Yes, it's a weekend of rootin' and tootin' startin' off with The Textettes dishing up their unique style of original Country Roots music at the Whitmore Hotel on Friday May 20. With a new album bubbling on the gas ring, the Texettes are out to win fans and vanquish enemas as more of their music hits the airwaves around the country. See them at the Whitmore with suport, a youngish feller called Brendan Williams who is a dab gob with a tune and a harmoniker.  Action starts around 7.30-ish.

If Blues and Roots is more your thing get along to the Rob Roy Hotel to catch Sweet Baby James and Rob Eyers trotting out their Double Voodoo blues. Early Start at the Rob Roy - about 6 pm., so don't go home after work; go straight to the Rob Roy and get hammered then come down to the Whitmore and make a real fukkin' nuisance of yourself at the Texettes gig. See you there... or there!

May 21, Saturday night is the day for Country Music fans when the First Two Queens of County hit the stage that evening at the South Australian Sea Rescue Squadron, Barcoo Road, West Beach. Featuring Amber Joy Poulton (left) as Loretta Lynn and, straight from Tamworth N. S. Of W, Marie Hodson (left and down a bit) as Reba McEntyre, and ably supported by the Amazing Sharrahs, the evening promises to be BIG with both leading ladies presenting a showcase of their own home-grown music before the real fun starts. And a big one for the night is the extended Holy Men backing band with added poisonality and holding power. Here's some shit you'll need to know:

What: The First Two Queens of Country supported by the Amazing Sherrahs
Where: South Australian Sea Rescue Squadron, Barcoo Road, West Beach, SA 5024
When: 7:30pm-10:30pm – approx
How: Tickets: $20. Phone: 0413 522 516 to book, BYO Supper. Drinks available at the bar

 See also: http://blueringrecords.wordpress.com/

Sunday, May 22, have a rest, then get down to the Gilbert Hotel for an afternoon session with Sweet Baby James and Rob Eyers.

Don't forget the Gov has the Blues on Sunday with Dave Blight and the Flyers kicking off at around 5.30 pm. Who will be this week's mystery guest? No-one? Well... who knows, eh?

Kevin Borich is also in town, blowing out doors and windows with his powerhouse rock and roots and stuff. Here's a list of places you can catch him and his band:

Thurs. 19th The Beachhouse Café Victor Harbour
Fri. 20th The Old Clarendon Hotel
Sat. 21st. The Settlers Hotel
Sunday 22ND. The Semaphore Workers Club. 

Speaking of the Semaphore Workers Club, Ray Beadle plays the club on Friday May 20. Mark Chewey will be on drums, Narmon on Hammond.

Blurb:  At only 24 Ray Beadle is a regular on the Australian Blues Festival Circuit and has played at premier venues such as The Basement in Sydney. This talented young performer has been invited to play with the likes of Renee Geyer, The Foreday Riders and The Hippos. Ray’s tours of the USA have been very successful, playing in venues such as B.B King’s Club in Memphis and Buddy Guy’s Blues Club in Chicago as well as several Southern Blues festivals. Ray has also had the privelege of being asked to play with American greats such as Andy Just, Dave Bowen and Chris Cain. Chris Cain has said, “Ray is unquestionably one of the finest musicians I have come across …His song writing has a harmonic and emotional depth that many strive for but few capture. Ray’s guitar work…well, lets just say this cat is VERY dangerous.”  

Folk Federation gigs: DAMH THE BARD & SPIRAL DANCE: THU MAY 19TH @ 8
MUNRO, O’CALLAGHAN, TITCHENER: SAT MAY 21ST @ 8
MOORE BLACK & THE ORGANIC ROOTS: SUN MAY 22ND @ 4
Info: Folk Centre of South Australia
P: 08 8354 4606
E: This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it
W: www.folkfederation.com 

Now, onto more important stuff: This week, in the continuing series of the Greatest Detectives – Kevin Hillary, the Kiwi Kopper. And yes; I’m making this up as I go along.

I struggle to make ends meet as an out and out bludger so I borrowed some money and bought a Private Detective Franchise – I call the business: Private I’s ‘is’ I. One of the benefits for tenderfeet flatfeets is that the franchise company supplies you with experienced detectives to help you learn the ropes.  The chap they sent me for my first case was Kevin Hillary, New Zealand’s top detective. I picked him up at the dole office.
“You can’t get the dole while you’re working, Kiwi…” I sez.
“Sorry, mate,” he sed. “Ferce of hebit.  Inny way, me names Kivvun Hullery”
“Hi, Kevin,” I sez to him…. “here’s my first case: there’s been a murder in a ground floor room at the Hyupp Hotel. Apparently there’s a politician and a sheep - both dead. It sounds pretty weird. It’s obviously one of them bizarre murder cases…”
“J’ya  rekin? Sounds more like a livvers’ quirrel, to me,” sez Kev.
“Right up your street, eh? So… you’ll handle it, then?” I arkses Kevin as we pulled up in front of the joint.
“Yus. Pease uv puss.” He sed and off he headed into the hotel foyer.
He was back inside a minute. “What’s the matter?” I arksed.
“Fekkin door bastard wouldn’t lut me un with me thongs…”
“Jesus, Kevin. Here, wear my boots.” He stuck ‘em on the ends of his legs and shot through only to return inside another minute.
“What the fuk is it this time…?”
“He wouldn’t lut me un weiring shorts…”
“Christ! Here’s me fukkin duds… now get in there and get this case wound up”
You wouldn’t read about it but he was back in another minute.
“What the fuk…. Kevin?”
“He doesn’t like me weiring a singlet. Have to weir a shurt.”
“Here, have the shirt of me fukken back and get in there…!”
He was back in a minute. I couldn’t look at the bastard.
“Thet bloke’s a bit of a kent; he says I can’t tek me Esky in….”
I hit Kevin with the steering lock, put my own duds back on and stormed into the hotel. Ten minutes later I got back to the car. Kevin had sold the radio-CD player and bought a bag of dope and was sitting on the front seat choofing away with a dozen empty Speight's stubbies at his feet. The seat was propped up against the front wheel of the car.
“LIvvers’ quirrel?” he aksed, blowing a cloud of happy smoke my way.
“Looks like it; get in there and sort out the bodies; call the morgue and a vet. I’ll write the report….”
Thirty minutes later the morgue van rolled up and took the body away. No vet. No Kevin. I went in to get him. Still no Kevin but the French doors were open. I went out through the doors and there was Kevin, lolling back in a patio chair, feet on the little patio table, Choofin’ away, while the garden was belching smoke sympathetically.
“Kevin! What the fuk????”
“Gut us sim beers, will yer…  I put down a hungi with thet shup en ut wull be riddy in ebet an hour or so.”
“You fukkin idiot…!! That sheep is evidence!”
“Not eny, more ut usn’t – ut’s lunch. Here… have a choof and chull ert a but!”
I have requested a new helper.
 

First... Amber Joy Poulton has his the Top Ten in the Country Charts with Break Even. Catch Amber Joy and the Holy Men on April 21. More about that later.

This week, Friday May 13, you can enjoy the Double Voodoo blues of Sweet Baby James and Rob Eyers at the Wheatsheaf Hotel, Thebarton.

Saturday May 14 catch the Texettes set at the Kapunda Music Festival. The Texettes open their lunchbox... I mean... open their set at 1.30 pm. Festival Information: SA Country Music for Cancer at the KAPUNDA TROTTING TRACK, Hancock Road, KAPUNDA. And it's UNDERCOVER!
BYO Chairs and Rugs—No Eskies—Full Catering facilities available
For further information call Chris—(08) 8566 3140 or 0408 100 209
Entrance Fees: $15 Adult; $12 Concession; Children under 15 free when accompanied by an adult
Entry after 7pm Free.
Visit the South Australian Council for Country Music website for this event and other gigs in South Australia. http://www.saccm.com/gigguide/gigguide.htm

Saturday May 14 is the day pan!c rip up the Daniel O'Connell Hotel in North Adelaide. 9pm is the time for the pan!c to set in.  Good beer and scran at the Dan. See you there.

At the Folk Centre…  IONIA GREEK BAND release their Debut album Saturday 14th May at the Folk Centre. The band features Steve Papadopoulos on guitar, John Kourbelis on Sandouri, Apostolis Poulis on Oud/Vocals, Anne Harrington on Toumberleki, Katerina Stevens on Violin and Patrick Montgomery on Lyra/Saz… Doors open at 7.30pm and tickets ($20) are available at the door.

Sunday May 15, at long last, after an almost-fatal motorcycle crash, Brian the Bishop Morrison hits the stage with Double Wammy! on home turf at the Semaphore Workers club.  Can he do it? He's had his arm replaced with a tension wrench, his leg bones replaced with two aluminium mop handles and had his head successfull re-attached just below the ears - or was it just above?? I don't know for sure!!! But.... can he still wrangle the guitar into submission....? Eh?? well... can he??? Can HE!!!?? why don't you come along and see for yourself. 5pm at the Semaphore Workers Club, Semaphore.

 May 14 at the Gov: The SOUL SISTAS REVUE will present a tribute to soul music, and the soul divas that made not only this style of music legendary but themselves legends. Tickets at the door or Moshtix.

 May 15, The Gov presents Blues on Sunday with Dave Blight and the Flyers. 5.30 pm the mighty Flyers kick off in the front bar of the Gov. Go to www.thegov.com.au for info.

And..... Tony Joe White - The Gov - Wednesday May 18.

Now, about that Amber Joy.  

The Railroad Country Music Club brings you a tribute show you shouldn't miss.  On  Saturday, 21st May 2011, Amber Joy Poulton (as Loretta Lynn)and Marie Hodson (as Reba McEntire) perform ...

Two Queens Of Country.

The night begins with:

* Marie Hodson, all the way from Tamworth
* Local Adelaide girl Amber Joy Poulton
* The AMAZING Sherrah's
Just when you think it couldn't get any better, out comes the Tribute Show:  Reba McEntire and Loretta Lynn - Two Queens Of Country.
Reba & Loretta singing their own songs and the songs of their girlfriends: Tammy Wynette, Patsy Cline, Dolly Parton, Linda Ronstadt & more. All backed by rocking band The Holy Men!
7:30pm-10:30pm - approx
BYO Supper. Drinks available at the bar
Tickets: $20.  Phone: 0413 522 516 to book your seats
Venue: Barcoo Road, West Beach

I think that is all.  Now.... Let’s see if you can believe this:  it starts with eBay.  I bought – via eBay – an inexpensive Chinese-made spa pool and threw my first nude spa party. Luckily for me I wasn’t in the fukken thing when it shorted out and killed 5 people. Well, ‘lucky’ is a relative term - I was in more shit than a Bolivar seagull; legal costs were mounting and the hand-wringing and carry-on over a few eager debauchers was ludicrous. I needed more money, and lots of it. The spa pool area was rapidly turning into a swap and that gave me the next idea.  Back to eBay where I bought a truckload of second-hand assorted safari-type animals. You can probably see where I’m going with this… I turned the back yard into a Big Game Shoot-‘em-up for rich yanks. It was as easy as snuffing grandad with a nursing home pillow. I had the first safari booked out inside 24 hours.
Now comes the weird part. The tigers and grillums were fine, the hostridges and armadillos, fur seals, moose… all that stuff was ok. The hippopotamus… the hippo was a gentle soul with deep understanding eyes that looked  peered at me with some apprehension.
“Don’t worry,” I sed, comfortingly. “The yanks are coming; they couldn’t hit the floor if they fell down. I could paint a target on your side and they’d shoot me.”
Then, to my surprise, the hippo said: “Thank you.”
Then, to my continuing surprise, the hippo’s mouth opened wide and a midget stuck out his head and said: “You I thank, also!”
I sat down, rolled a durrie and listed to the explanation:  The Hippo, whose name was Norman, worked in a circus as Sleepy Norman the Yawning Hippo. The midget, whose name was Grigor, worked the same circus in a tumbling act – the Bulgarian Ballisters – and was the football to his team-mates antics. One night he was punted too high in the big top and knocked the highwire artist flying. Grigor had landed in the net when the highwire artist decided to get revenge and he bounced the Bulgarian midget of the net and into the yawning maw of Norman. Suffice to say, Grigor survived and did not want to come out and play with his bully brothers and Norman was happy to have an obstacle in his gullet that prevented his frequent yawning. They chose to be together and the circus impresario put them on eBay and out of his life.
I put them in the swamp and they were happy. Then the ‘guests’ arrived. Three of the most gun-happy Seppos you could think of: George Bush, Sarah Palin and Donald Trumpet.  And they were packin! They had so much ironmongery with them they had their own magnetic field. Accompanied by a troop of minders they set about plugging everything with lead, including the kitchen sink.  I sat on a deck chair in the swamp with Norman and Grigor and watched the fukkers get under way.
“Before they start,” said Grigor, “there is something I want to do.” He hopped out of Norman’s mouth and trotted over to George Bush.
“Mr Bush,” he asked politely, “May I????”
“Certainly, Shorty,”  laughed George. “Little fukker like you can’t…OOOOFFFFF!!!”
Griogor punched George Bush in the balls and trotted back to the swamp. “For time long I have wanted that to do.”
The Yanks got under way. Donald Trumpet was hoisted on the shoulders of a raft of minions and yelled at every goddam freakin’ animal to stand still while he shot it. “Which one of you fukkers has got the oil?” he shouted while shooting wildly.
Three of Bush’s minders held the ostrich while George took aim….  the three minders got blasted. The ostrich escaped unarmed. We laughed. Loudly.  Trumpet heard us and yelled: “Shoot the hippo, Bush. Shoot the fukken hippo!”
Blam blam – George shot Sarah Palin in the arse. It was probably her fault as much as his; she was bending over to club a fur seal when the cry went up.  Fuk, was she pissed…. She set off after George with her silver-plated, English-engraved double-barrelled Arrieta, loaded with bear shot.
“I’ll blow your fukken brains out you idiot!” She screamed.
In minutes George’s head looked like a candy egg at the end of a tough Easter Sunday but Palin still hadn’t hit anything vital. Bush was going gun crazy, even shooting clouds he didn’t like the look of.
Trumpet had a Tapir cornered and was shouting at it… “I got you, you fukker, your ass is mine! And I get to own South America….”
“Excuse me, once again,” sed Grigor and scuttled over to George Bush who was decimating the olive tree with buckshot.
“Pardon me, Mr Bush,” he asked politely, “But, may I????”
“You agen, Shorty,” laughed George. “I s’poze you’re gunna hit me in the nuts agen…AAAHHH!!!” Right in the goolies - again; what a sucker.
I rolled another durrie and relaxed in the swamp while Grigor climbed back in Norman’s mouth.
“You gotta love these yanks, eh?” I sez.
“I stand under your Aussie ironical idiom but mine is a slightly different opinion,” Grigor mused. “I don’t think much of these Yankee political people,”  he sed. “They so fukkin stupid they give imbeciles a bad name.”