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the molly fet circuit

  • ftn simonFuck The Neighbours leader Simon Chainsaw.

    Fuck The Neighbours
    + The Molly Fet Circuit
    MoshPit Bar, St Peters, NSW

    WORDS: Geoffrey Datson
    IMAGES: The Barman

    There was some confusion, so I’m arriving at the bright Saturday afternoon gig late.

    Into the long dark venue.

    It seemed there’d been some mishap?

    A first responder with a head torch on  is stumbling through debris, where the stage used to be.

  • FTN WEBHe spent his early years as a player in Sydney’s underground music scene and also broadcasting its music on community radio. So it was a labour of love for ex-Vanilla Chainsaws frontman-turned-solo-artist Simon Chainsaw in 2009 when he put together a covers record of the songs of the era that inspired him.

    Sixteen years later after the “Fuck The Neighbours” record, he’s taking to Sydney stages with a band bearing the same name whose members helped birth the music.

    Named after a Thought Criminals song, “Fuck The Neighbours” is an all-Australian punk supergroup playing Oz punk classics for a limited number of shows. You can catch them for a matinee show at MoshPit Bar in St Peters in Sydney on Saturday, November 29. Tickets here.

    Comprising Simon Chainsaw on vocals, guitarist Cub Calloway (The Saints, New Christs), bassist Bob Short (Filth, Urban Guerillas) and drummer Murray Shepherd (Fun Things, Screaming Tribesmen. Hitmen DTK) as the core band.

    They’ll be joined at the MoshPit by guests including Mark Easton (Suicide Squad, Bedhogs, The Kelpies, Soggy Porridge), Geoff Holmes (X, Evil Rumours) and others to-be-announced.

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    You recall the Monty Python sketch about the poor sod who goes on telly to promote his book and discovers to his horror that the TV presenter is only interested in his lame nickname, “Arthur ‘Two Sheds’ Jackson”?

    Books are damned difficult to start, maintain and complete; any author should be proud of their achievement in completing a book, never mind getting the sod published. However, Jackson's long hours and hard work are worth precisely zilch in the eyes of the TV presenter and his bosses: all they care about is the ratings scored by making far more of Jackson's pathetic nick-name than it deserves.