Posts Tagged ‘Hesitation Kills’

Hesitation Kills

May 13, 2012

Heya this is brief but I thought I’d post it anyways.  This song came out last month but I’ve been lazy (I won’t even pretend that I was too busy) and blah blah blah here is the new single from Royal Chant and we like it well enough.  It’s been on the radio a bit but not enough to make us famous, or make much of a difference, really.  If it ain’t a hit then it’s really just in the noise level, but since that’s what we play (noise, of a certain verbal snarled strain), and where we are most comfortable (underground),  it all works out in the end.

Anyway, it’s called Hesitation Kills, and you can snag it for free and blast it to your hearts content, or have a listen here on the blog or here on the Triple J Unearthed site.  Whatever’s clever, my friends.  Let us know what you think if you’ve got a moment to spare.  Feedback = good.  Even if it’s bad.

So that’s pretty much it.  I waited almost 2 months to post something, and all you get is a crappy disposable single.  I’m not even going to pretend that I’m unaware of the delicious irony that the song & this post are called “Hesitation Kills”, so let’s just move on from here.  I’m not dead.

slantrhyme, this malnourished and untended blog of mine, turned 3 years old sometime over the past two weeks, and once again I forgot to notice. The Iron Man Triathlon came and went, and it wasn’t until it was truly over that I recognized that gnawing at the back of my mind.  Ah yes, a beginning of sorts.  To commemorate this non-event I have chosen “Lean Street”, by G.S. Fraser, taken from my Penguin Book of Scottish Verse, (ed. Tom Scott).

Lean Street

by G.S. Fraser

Here, where the baby paddles in the gutter,
Here in the slaty greyness and the gas,
Here where the women wear dark shawls and mutter
A hasty word as other women pass,

Telling the secret, telling, clucking and tutting,
Sighing, or saying that it served her right,
The bitch! – the words and weather both are cutting
In Causewayend, on this November Night.

At pavement’s end and in the slaty weather
I stare with glazing eyes at meagre stone,
Rain and the gas are sputtering together
A dreary tune! O leave my heart alone,

O leave my heart alone, I tell my sorrows,
For I will soothe you in a softer bed
And I will numb your grief with fat to-morrows
Who break your milk teeth on this stony bread!

They do not hear. Thought stings me like an adder,
A doorway’s sagging plumb-line squints at me,
The fat sky gurgles like a swollen bladder
With the foul rain that rains on poverty. 


Whenever we are in Sydney we stay at our bass player’s apartment (his name is James and he’s a lovely soul), which is in Kingsford/Randwick.  It’s a relatively short walk from there to the very upper-crust beach of Coogee Bay, but in order to get there I pass by a somewhat disheveled but still quite friendly looking veterinary practice called Struggletown Vet.  Struggletown.  I love it.

I want to know exactly where the term “Struggletown” comes from.  It’s so perfect and real that it begs to be remembered.  I’ve a hunch that it’s a forgotten term for the area in the early 1900s, but rather than Google it or some other short cut I’d like to sit down in some forgotten corner of the local library and meander amongst their local history section.  Even better would be to actually talk to someone who remembers, or who remembers someone who would remember, but the sad thing is that most of those people are long gone, and their stories with them, either dead or pushed out by the ever-rising property prices.  Even if you could find someone, it’s hard to imagine finding the right place to sit and listen to them over a pint, because there’s no proper quiet pubs anymore.  There’s few pubs left in the city that have history written into the walls and where old men gather to pass the time in silence or over well-worn stories.  They’re all gone.

Sorry to end on a bummer.  Things are a bit rough in the world overall right now, but that’s no reason not to smile and carry on, each in our own way.

Write back if it’s been a while.  I do enjoy hearing from you, wherever you are scattered across the globe.  Love & peace to you all…


Wish you were here…

December 10, 2011

Seriously.  I wish you had been there.  Yes you.  Royal Chant just played what was, at the time, our last show of the year, and although the room was comfortably full we wish it had been uncomfortably packed.  As in sweating and heaving in one giant mass packed.  Since we didn’t have that, and since you weren’t there, I thought I might share some of the highlights* of the night.

*(by highlights I mean whatever we managed actually get on tape).

We kicked off the evening with something new.  Brand new.  This was the public debut of “Junk Theory”, a song that I’m finding increasingly difficult to finish off.  As it was, we only played one verse and a bit of the chorus, which was probably more than enough.  Highly observant folks will note that it’s Matt on guitar, and me on drums, which was a nice way of breaking up the doldrums of our usual roles.  A member of one of the opening bands came up after the show to helpfully tell me that he liked this song but I’m not as good on drums as Matt.  Also, since I’m in charge here, I’d like to point out that James started off his bass riff with the time turned around.  Once that happens it’s almost impossible to turn it back around, so I gave him a dirty look and swapped the time for him.  I think we charged him a beer for his infraction.  It happens.  Anyway, here it is….

I’m not sure when we played this next crop of songs, but it was somewhere in the middle.  They are “Oh, The Shame” followed by “Irish Eyes” and “Hesitation Kills”.  We’re going into the studio again next month, and hopefully when we leave we will have one, if not two or three of these songs ready to take over the airwaves of your local 15 watt community radio station.

Love my reliable gear.

And lastly, here is “A Series Of Sighs”.  This isn’t a new one, having come out on Raise Your Glass & Collapse, but there’s something special about this version.  I can’t say what it is exactly, but it strikes me as one of our better performances.  Maybe it’s watching James jump (right around the 2:15 mark).  Maybe it’s something else.  What do you think?  Help me out here, I’ve not got much to work with.

And that’s a wrap.  We played more songs than that of course, but it’s nothing you haven’t heard before.  And yes, I did subtitle every song in our set as “North American sex life”.  I said it once and kept running with it because it works with nearly every song in our catalog.  “Bored Awake”, “A Series Of Sighs”, “Oh, The Shame” You get the idea.  I’m a riot.

So here I am on a crap Summer day.  There hasn’t been a wave in weeks, and today is not looking any better.  There’s a very popular music Festival on in town, but I can’t be bothered going coz I’m far too cynical and jaded to enjoy much of anything at the moment.

What we thought was our last gig of the year has turned out to be our second-to-last, as we will be playing at the Beach House right here in sunny (in theory) Port Macquarie  for their Boxing Day Bash.  I have yet to understand what Boxing Day is, where it comes from and why we need an extra day off of work after having both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day to ourselves, but from what I can tell here in Regional NSW it involves most of the townsfolk getting really, really drunk.  That’s where we step in, taking the stage to play in front of a wild, unruly audience who would prefer to hear AC/DC and will not stop letting you know that very fact.  Should be a riot.  Literally.

I know we have posted this photo before, but since we’re broke and don’t have an advertising budget we had to make up a crappy poster.

Boxing Day Bash

Oh boy!

That is all from here.  There is a very real chance that I won’t do anything special here for the holidays, so if that is the case I’d like to take the time now to thank you very much for reading, listening, and staying in touch over the past 2 1/2 years of this blog.  This is a very, very, very small corner in the online universe, but it is mine/ours/yours and it means a lot to me.  Thank you all very much.  Happy Holidays to you and yours.  Stay safe and stay in touch.



Boys On Film

November 17, 2011

Here’s our latest video.

It was directed by Heremaia Rudkin, part of the Creative Foundry.  He heard this song on the radio and contacted us to do this video.  It was very simple.  We like it.  We’ve been waiving our arms around trying to get the attention of radio to get this fine burst of garage cinema some extra lovin’, but in the likely event that that doesn’t happen we decided to do it ourselves and…do it ourselves.  There’s only so much one can beg about pr and promo and stuff like that–eventually you just shrug and….[shrug].  As a matter of pride we’re doubling down and making today an all Royal Chant affair.  Snap!

Since November is Aus Music month and most of Australia’s rock royalty are on the “Straight To You” Nick Cave-tribute tour, we dredged through our film footage and sure enough hit upon Royal Chant on stage at the Tote Hotel in Melbourne this past May, playing our own version of Nick Cave’s beautiful “Straight To You”.  I’m not saying it’s good, I’m just saying that it’s us.

And lastly, since it takes just about three of anything to make a feature, our bassist James put together some crap footage of our most recent gig, playing far too early at the Newtown Festival.  Geez, the dog show was barely over and we’re trying to kick out the garage jams here.  All good.  As soon as we wrapped up our set we went across the road to the Courthouse Hotel and sank into a few ciders to ease the morning pain.  Lovely.  Absolutely lovely.  [ps–for the curious or obsessed, there’s a few new songs buried in this clip.  When I’m singing alone on the couch, sounding rough as guts, that’s a new one called “Oh, The Shame”.  Following “Sea Chanty” on stage, we try out a zippy new number called “Hesitation Kills”.  Now you know….]

Sorry to make this all about us….again.  There’s heaps to write and it’s raining.  Conditions are perfect….

Write back if it’s been a while.  Tell me what’s going on and all that jazz.