I saw Deerhunter last night. Fantastic show, but, when the songs seamlessly string together for 45 minutes, it makes you wonder - how much do they want to avoid talking to their audience? Maybe talking to your fans in between songs, cracking funnies, (or non-funnies) is something that local, unknown bands do. Or, I guess, being from Atlanta, they were short of conversational topics (except of course pointing out the fact that when it's summer in America, it's winter in Australia....mindblowing). During my brief stint as a lead singer for a band, I realised that I am a chicken shit, and find it hard to even look at the audience, let alone talk to them. Maybe if I had harnessed the power of charisma, I wouldn't have bowed out of my commitment so ungracefully. On Thursday, Faster Louder Study Break was on at Bar Soma. I heart Chloe Turner and Drawn From Bees. (Could probably live without Dawn Collective). And then Strange Attractors at Ric's made my night. This weekend ended my long hiatus from the local music scene in Brisbane, and of course it looks like I might be moving to Sydney soon, after months of bitching about the dull Brisbane life. Goes to figure that as soon as I get accepted into the postgrad course in another city, I start to appreciate Brisbane again, and the music here that I wouldn't really want to trade. Of course, there's always the pretentious scene kids, some crap music and a serious lack in quality venues, but it's Brisbane, warts and all. When it comes to the crunch, could I really give up this place? The Alibi Room, The Zoo, The friggin Outpost?

six months isn't a very long time. unless of course it comes to elena's relationship hahahah in which case it's recordbreaking........anyway, my new blog on vox is a lot prettier so i'm moving there. gonna get into political activism and what not, and came to the realization that music media is just glamorous bullshit and after i leave fasterlouder i'm going to go shower and scrub myself really really really hard ^_^ you can find me at elenamaria.vox.com it's still a baby and i might be recycling posts because i'm lazy and uninspired at the moment but meh. i don't give a fuck. hahahhahahahahahahahhaha *exits laughing maniacally*

GODDAMN. Three posts in one night. Arent you a lucky bunch of ducks? So in the last tale I left you at the end of my journey to Byron for Splendour in the Grass, and now is a detailed recount of my recent days, and what i learned from my assignment (yeah the one that's taking over my life).....  (More)

So Sunday morning, we'd had a proper night's rest (supposedly) and were hungover and bleary-eyed and ready to take on the second day of musical festivities...  (More)

So I went to Splendour this year. Lost my festival virginity, exciting stuff. It's been a whirlwind since last weekend. I accidentally slit my brother's throat, my mum told me to go off the pill, and I just found out Tony Wilson died. Oh yes and my first uni assignment of the semester is taking over my life and has shaken up my dream to write for Rolling Stone in the US.  (More)

I'm really bored right now, and I'm supposed to be editing a short story for an assignment about a neurotic woman whose flight is delayed. She starts hearing voices in her head telling her to kill.....The following is something completely unrelated but is an example of my procrastination habits.  (More)

Today is the first sunny day after about a week of rain and overcasty gloominess. And I must say, I miss the rain. It postponed our graduation to level 6 water restrictions about a month and technically we're back into full drought mode now.  (More)

When you're finding that life is just too much to handle, there's nothing like the haunting, nostalgic music of Joy Division to perk you up.  (More)

Obsession With a quick flex of the muscles, the iron releases in her grip. Soft curls crumple down her face. She is already distracted by the promise of him. Dangerous, even in blue jeans. Squeezing into a red dress, angry and sexy all at once, she closes her eyes and daydreams of motorbikes, swing music and…him. Touch of mascara and in ten seconds, she’s ready. She opens the door seductively. The single bed, once a top bunk, beckons. Tell me about your day sweetheart. On her wall, the tall black and white image of her beloved, Mr. James Dean, yawning.

So I just returned from my Easter weekend in Melbourne. I would tell you all about it, but all we really did was eat shitloads of food and drink pissloads of alcomahol. A great weekend. In other news, I really need to start getting to more gigs and writing about them, and after this weekend, when I finish my old job, I'll have Friday and Saturday nights free which should be good. However I am in a bit of a rut. See, I thought I could write anything, but I discovered that in fact I am clueless when it comes to writing about music. I just love it so much that I become a perfectionist of insane degree and end up screwing up proverbial balls of paper in frustration (I say proverbial because it's all done on keyboards these days). If anybody has any tips, I implore you, share them with me. In return, I can tell you all about the musical Miss Saigon, which was just stunning, with its Vietnamese prostitutes and resoundingly human questions about love, sacrifice and family.

So it's Good Friday. Jesus died on the cross for us today, but I was too excited about driving myself and my brothers to church this morning, and my incredibly awesome reverse parallel park to be humble and reverent.  (More)

Well this is depressing. It's Monday night, and after a crazy weekend which included getting my driver's license, working over 20 hours (over 3 days), and driving to my boyfriend's house in the middle of nowhere all by myself late at night, I have returned to my beloved fasterlouder blog only to find that my previous place as third most popular blog no longer stands. The new layout is kind of cool, I suppose, but I'm bitter and tired. Blame Laserforce, or rather, the multitude of smelly little boys (and big adults) that I've had to deal with. Also, my constant need for attention and love from readers. Thanks Steph (Maker) for that inspiring comment, I will read it whenever I'm feeling down :)  (More)

Yes I'm obsessed with Bob Dylan, get over it. This is a rant. I just came across the third reference to the old dude's lyrics, in the space of an HOUR. Before you call me a hypocrite, it was the same line from the same song: "The times, they are a-changin'"..................no fuck, really? (My quote was different ) I appreciate that it is a very fluid lyric, adaptable to any scenario, being as blatant as it is, but people, lets find something new to grind into the floor with our heels. The last straw was in fact a comment and analysis piece in an early March edition of New Scientist, which was raving on about secular fundamentalists. And it did not slip it in subtly, unobtrusively. Nooooo, it was the first sentence. Glaring at me, ridiculing me: "Na na na na nahhh Elena! You can't escape me!" Am I overreacting? Haven't any of you ever come across similar phrases/colloquialisms that get your eye twitch starting again?  

I feel so loved. My baby (i.e. this blog) is only a week old, and has had over 300 views. Woot. People seem to be interested in what I say.....(?) In other news, I'm about a third of the way through my assignment and should have it completed by tomorrow night. For some reason the uni library databases won't let me access any of the journal articles I've found, which is slighly irritating, but I won't lose my head over it. Positive attitude. The sun will come up tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow....(etc). If I feel like procrastinating I always have the skeleton pop song to work on, which I have put aside while other more important matters continue to swamp my existence. I was actually looking forward to dancing around the house naked to Billy Idol or Kamahl, but it appears my brothers will be home for the day. Oh well. Better get back to it then. I just discovered that punk music killed the structure of music journalism in the 70s. No kidding...

Random thought of the weekend: Last night at the pub my boyfriend made some random comment about never being able to win money on the pokies (surprise surprise), but only ever being able to break even. In my slightly inebriated state, I realised that breaking even in life , is the best way  to minimise  unhappiness, heartbreak, etc. The way  I have it figured out is that  if you spend your years  fucking people over to get to the top, one day it will come back and bite you in the arse. To risk sounding like a crazy new-age hippie, it's the natural balance of the universe. But in reverse, if you spend your whole life letting yourself get walked all over and always selling yourself short, isn't that just as bad? I think so. My aim in life as far as being a kindly, generous person goes along the lines of...Whatever you have done for me, I will reciprocate it, maybe not in like terms, but equivalent nonetheless. I hope that the day I die, I have given back something to everyone that I have taken from. No more, and no less. My thoughts are racing at a mile a minute, but I am just too physically tired to get it all in here. So I might just leave it for tonight. Been having lots of romantic thoughts floating around in my head lately, if I happen to be typing in here while drunk, it's all going to come out. I'll try not to let that happen, but I'm just giving you all a general warning ;) This weekend has been crazy, I was at home only for a couple of hours in total, asleep for about 6 hours in total and ahem....doing other things.....quite a few hours. ;) I promise a more interesting read next time I do this, where I'll be awake and sunshine and buttons and puppies ^_^ mwah xoxo