By which, of course, we mean your snaking desire for a complete architectural revamp of your living room. Tired of getting butt cramps from eating your dinner on the floor because you haven’t found that elegant pouffe that speaks directly to your soul? Or perhaps your soul-speaking...
Depressed? Join the club. We've earned the right by possessing a certain level of sanity, dammit. Why deny it? Embrace it. And don't worry. There are no balding synth pop Londoners here. We communicate only in French Electro. An audio visual outing to Westworld, this'll finally be the night when external...
Shun the light. Shun the joy. Shun the normals. Hell, they’ve even spelt it wrong just to show you how freaking alternative this thing is. Been dreaming of a black christmas? Well these guys have the prescription for you. And it doesn’t involve you having to undergo a three...
Nothing matters now, nothing matters now, nothing matters now. It’s time you embraced the winter, Sydney. Take your white finger, slide the nail under the top and bottom buttons on your wallet and place your fate in the glittering Glaswegian hands of Franz Ferdinand (and MGMT). Surrender yourself...
It's a wedding! No...
Wake up, Melbourne. It's time you remember what you've forgotten. Cause it's wielding a bloody weapon of vengeance in your face. And you best do your darndest to pay attention this time. 10) Open House Melbourne: Meat Market 28th July Yes, we are referring to a literal meat...
Take your multivitamins, Sydney. You'll need every last molecule of physiological responsibility to compensate for this week. We hope you listened to your mother and ate your green vegetables. Otherwise we're not sure you'll survive. 10) DIVA Party 28th July Crack out those moulding fetid mistakes of your...
From eco-warrior to 80s scrape to drunken gourmand; we expect this'll be first week you end constipated, face down drunk in fish net stockings, reeking of moral pride. But certainly not the last. Not if we have anything to do with it. 10) Beat The Bottle 22nd...
Yeah, yeah we know. It’s permanent, you’ll regret it. Blah, blah, blah. But, you know. They’ll probably discover some kind of chemical in tattoo ink that causes cancer in about 5 years or so, so it’s not like any of us will live long enough for that hot mermaid...
The title says it all, kids. And what a trauma it is. It would have to be, at least physiologically. All that spinning and flexing and high-wire twirling whilst attempting to regurgitate that which has already been regurgitated by about fifty pop singers across the ages? ...