Centre Negative, Blue Cheese & Human Susan
371 St Asaph Street, Christchurch
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Centre Negative, Blue Cheese and Human Susan are doing what all sensible adults do after a global social distancing outbreak: hiring a bus.
Come indulge your pleasure-seeking impulses as this 16-strong posse of merry cranks from Dunedin play a venue near you!
CENTRE NEGATIVE is what you call it when Michael McClelland and friends attempt to prevent silence from happening. It's pretty much just dour lyrics over asinine pop music, really. But what else did you expect from this horrific existence you were born into? Truly, Centre Negative fans (like yourself, of course) exist in the dark and eerie liminal zone between begging and choosing. Nobody is kidding anyone in this zone, and that's why it's so comfortable. That might be why Henry Rollins is apparently a CN fan—shitty news for CN!
BLUE CHEESE is Poppy Ophelia and friends. If you were to bear with us and coax the Snorlax that is your brain into imagining what it would be like if the Slits were released by Siltbreeze, you'd come up with something that would sound truly unique and mystifying, I'm sure. Anyway, onto talking about Blue Cheese. NZ hasn't had any proper rambunction since the latter was outlawed in 1992 along with large glasses, taking your sheep to the hoedown, being an oaf AND a banker, and the public caning of treasonous stepchildren. Not sure whether the Cheeses remember any of these things, but the memory of having to ingest drywall is very much alive in the memories of those who lived through the pre-good days. Where were we? Oh yeah. How fortunate it is that we are a culture of stoic self-denialists—this six-strong song throng have really made us wait for the goods!
HUMAN SUSAN, eh? Unlike most New Zealand bands, Human Susan are not your usual serving of oafish clods who get their feet stuck in their banjos and fall into wishing wells all the time. For instance, at their recent recording session, Human Susan's engineer was seen nodding approvingly to the others in the control room before slowly pushing his fingers on the control board to max out all the faders at full. Not sure why he did that, but if you were to clear the silverfish from your earholes for one goddamn minute, you might understand. Why don't you clear the silverfish out of your earholes? Hello?
In this country where everyone hates each other and everyone has worms in their brains, it's nice to occasionally go to a show and dance and not give each other a deadly lung destroying virus. Come to the show!
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