Archive for the 'Being Slick' Category



25
Nov
11

The Road To Synergy: Part 5 – Lock And Load Bitches!

open-roadToday we pack our shit up and hit the open road.

We drive until the city melts away behind us and we are flanked by mountains and vineyards and farmhouses that look like they were built 100 years ago (they were).

We drive until our city lives are far behind us and for two days we forget the stresses and the pressure and the deadlines and the endless pursuit of a meaningless things to give our lives meaning.

From here on in, it’s all about the music. Forget about your King sized bed and hot shower and lemon-scented exfoliating balm, your big screen TV and your shiny laptop, your Saturday grocery shopping missions and your froo-froo girly cocktails.

We’re going to rough it for a few days, camp on top of one another, get a little smelly, get a little dirty and make some memories we’ll be happy to look back on one day when we’re wrinkled old farts.

Me, I got my eyes on the prize. I’m there to reconnect with SA’s best bands, meet some fucking crazy kids and take the first few steps down a road I hope will take me where I need to be.

And of course, I’m there to watch Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and, if I play my cards right, hopefully meet and interview the band.

 

 

I’m old enough to know that I’ve probably built this up in my head to be something much bigger than what it’s going to be when we get there, but I honestly couldn’t give a fuck.

I’m living in the moment until Monday morning 8am and right now the moment couldn’t be better.

To get everyone in the mood, here are my top 5 Black Rebel Motorcycle Club tracks to drink whisky to while you tear howling through the night, one from every album the guys have recorded.

 

“Love Burns” (off their self titled first album)

“Six Barrel Shotgun” (off Take Them On, On Your Own)

“Lien On Your Dreams” (off Baby 81)

“Shuffle Your Feet” (off Howl. The story of my life)

“River Styx” (off Beat The Devil’s Tattoo)

See you guys there. I’ll be the guy with my face in a puddle on the floor Winking smile

Expect an EPIC review on Monday.

Until then never forget that ours is not to question why.

Ours is but to do and die.

-ST

24
Nov
11

The Road To Synergy: Part 4 – SUCCESS!

wtf_catYOU GUYS AREN’T GOING TO MOTHERFUCKING BELIEVE WHAT FUCKING WENT DOWN YESTERDAY! THE CRAZIEST SHIT, LITERALLY THE CRAZIEST SHIT YOU COULD POSSIBLY IMAGINE!

After that mopey “I give up” post I wrote because I’d completely lost hope that I’d ever get tickets to Synergy and get to interview Black Rebel Motorcycle Club (one of my favourite bands of all time), EVERYTHING changed!

Thanks to Mr Dan Nash, the organisers of Synergy, a little badass called Paula K and most importantly, Grant Gelt from New Sound Artist Management I now not only have two tickets to the festival, but a photo pass so J-Rab can get shots from the photo pit and they’re doing what they can to arrange an interview on Saturday!

How fucking crazy is that shit?! It just goes to show, if you want something badly enough and throw yourself into it face first (with a cat on your back) sometimes, just sometimes, it actually works out.

Throughout the day one thing after the other was falling into place and then last night, at about 9pm, an email came from New Sound Artist Management saying they’d read my posts and wanted to basically help me get as close to the band as humanly possibly!

If you guys could’ve seen me last night you would have thought I had actually finally lost my fucking mind. Air punching, screams of “FUCK YEAH!” and practically having a full on seizure is how I spent the better part of an hour.

 

 

Then I promptly passed out from exhaustion, woke up this morning and continued the air-punching, seizure-inducing marathon that will probably only stop on Sunday.

This is going to be the best fucking festival EVER! I can hardly sit still I’m so fucking stoked – how the hell I’m going to get through the next 24 hours without physically detonating from excitement is anyone’s guess.

Batten the hatches boys and girls, the Tiger’s tearin’ up Synergy Winking smile

 

 

That was “Weapon Of Choice”. They’ve changed their drummer since recording that video, so you won’t see that dude (Nick Jago) behind the kit. But don’t be sad, they replaced him with a total belter!

 

 

In all my BRMC-inspired obsession, I realise that I’ve completely neglected to mention the killer SA bands that I’m going to be supporting at Synergy.

There’s a shitload of them, so not sure how I’m really going to be able to fit them all in, but here’s my festival wishlist:

  • The Plastics
  • Shadowclub
  • Taxi Violence
  • Zebra and Giraffe
  • Good Luck
  • McCree
  • Sixgun Gospel
  • Tumi & The Volume
  • Desmond and the Tutus (it’s been WAAAAYYYY too long!)
  • Isochronous
  • THE NARROW (HELL’S YEAH!)
  • Captain Stu (if I survive until the bitter end – please guys, stay to watch these guys, besides being awesome guys, their music is guaranteed to melt faces)

Life, my friends, has a funny way of working out sometimes.

To everyone who made this possible, thank you again, I won’t forget this Winking smile

-ST

23
Nov
11

The Road To Synergy: Part 3 – Restless Sinner

Kalifornia brad pitt  03Black Rebel Motorcycle Club have a lot of killer songs, a lot of shit-kickin’, badass tracks that make you want to drive screaming into the night, firing a shotgun out the window of your buddy’s pickup while he swerves at breakneck speed through Nowheresville.

But it wasn’t until I heard “Restless Sinner” that I really started to take this band seriously, because for me, that song cuts right down to the bone.

It’s very seldom I can listen to it without some long buried memories clawing their way back out while I stare through the walls glassy-eyed, remembering…

It’s getting tired now, this constant pleading for tickets to Synergy and besides that, begging fucks with my pride.

This would have been a great opportunity for someone, an event sponsor, a partner, the event organisers themselves (God forbid!), to hook a brother up because the coverage I’d give them in return would have been epic. Their loss, the retards.

 

 

Instead, I guess I’ll just have to skip Synergy this year. I can’t afford R820 to get me and J-Rab there, because that’s not the only cost. It’s also another tank of petrol and it’s the booze and food while you’re there.

Add it all up and you’re looking at the business end of at least R1500 and we just plain can’t afford that at the moment.

I had this dream of meeting the band, swapping some war stories, connecting with them as people, flesh and blood and finding out what makes them tick.

In that dream, I asked the frontman Peter Hayes about “Restless Sinner”, what the song was about, why he wrote it, what it felt like to play it, but he didn’t say anything, just crossed the room and unlatched his guitar case…

 

 

-ST

22
Nov
11

The Road To Synergy: Part 2 – Radio Silence

insaneLife is fucking funny.

I’ve been thinking about my buddy, Guitar Jon who once, in a very drunken state, decided to tell everyone about ROCK AND ROLL!

We were varsity students getting fucked up in some bar or other that had a clever name and was wildly popular on Sunday nights in Jozi, but I’m pretty sure it closed down at least 3 years ago.

Guitar Jon was feeling low and disillusioned and like no one understood him (we’ve all been there), so he stood on one of the tables outside and delivered the following diatribe:

“Everybody shuddup! Shut the fuck up and LISTEN! Because I’m here to tell you, all of you, about ROCK AND ROLL! OK?! Because it’s something you FEEL! And it’s fucking ALIVE man! And it’s the best FUCKING THING that ever happened to us, to ANY of us! People forget that! But you just gotta BELIEVE! Because ROCK AND ROLL is the ONLY fucking thing that can save us! OK?! It’s… only fucking thing…”

He said. And one or two people looked at him, but mostly they just carried on drinking like nothing had happened, nothing at all.

 

 

So Guitar Jon got off the table and I think we patted him on the back and ordered him another round and that was that really.

I think in his mind things went differently – maybe people cheered him on or raised their voices in a passionate “Fuck yeah!” or two, but real life never works out that way.

I got in touch with the Synergy Live guys again yesterday and was told because ticket sales are going so well, they’re not issuing any media comps, which is why I’m climbing on the table to tell you guys:

“STOP BUYING FUCKING TICKETS OK?! YOU’RE BUYING TOO MANY TICKETS! IT’S NOT GOING TO BE THAT COOL, RATHER SAVE YOUR MONEY FOR RETIREMENT OR SOMETHING! OK?! YOU’LL NEED IT MORE WHEN YOU’RE OLD AND UGLY AND NOBODY LOVES YOU!”

But seriously guys, my big fucking plan is going nowhere.

 

 

I emailed Black Rebel Motorcycle Club’s management and climbed on the table (again) to explain, in a passionate diatribe, how much I love this fucking band and what it would mean to get an interview with the guys while they’re in SA and so on and so on.

They probably printed my email out and then took it in turns to wipe their asses on it before filing it in a rather unpleasant smelling cabinet labelled “Interview Requests From Blogger Wankers” and all had a good laugh.

Or, like the crowd that witnessed Guitar Jon’s epic revelation, they probably just stared at it blankly for a few seconds and then pretended nothing had happened and quietly pushed the “delete” button.

I know it’s still early in the game and things could change, but right now the Road To Synergy isn’t really leading anywhere except to the nearest bottle of whisky and then after that, the street for some drunken swearing and public nudity.

I wish I had better news for ya folks, but that’s all she wrote.

Now if anyone needs me, I’ll be drawing an unhappy face on the head of my penis (adds a hilariously sorrowful undertone to the flashing) and listening to this track from my favourite band of all time, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, who I probably will never, ever get to see play live.

Ever Sad smile

This one’s called “Sweet Feeling”.

 

 

Don’t say it’s over so soon

We’ve tied to the day every wrong

We can wait in the shadows of mourning

But to wait just betrays what’s to come

There’s nothing, there’s no one, no cause

And still we believed in it all.

The sweet feeling’s gone

The sweet feeling’s gone…

-ST

21
Nov
11

The Road To Synergy: Part 1 – Shitting On The Dream

Black-Rebel-Motorcycle-ClubSo on Friday I got all deep and philosophical on your asses and wrote about how I’ve been dicking around for too long and it’s time to step up to the plate and start slugging for the fence.

Well, I good couple of people who read the site and know me personally started asking what the hell I was on about was all about and why I was being so goddamned cryptic, so I decided I’d just spill the beans and give it to you guys straight.

My plan is to figure out a way to meet Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, the guys headlining Synergy Live this year and one of my favourite bands of all time and I’m going to write one of the best goddamn features you’ve ever read in your LIFE about that experience and use that piece to start doing what I’ve always wanted to.

Write about rock n roll.

People are forever asking me what my site’s about and I’m forever answering, “I have no fucking idea. I just wake up that day and whatever comes into my head – BANG! That’s what I write about on that day.”

 

 

But for a long time I’ve been seriously considering steering this site in a musical direction so that at least I can say it’s about something.

Don’t freak out though, there will still be the random, awesome shit there always has been, I just want to have more of a focus on local and international music.

I guess it was that post “That Intangible Moment…” that I wrote awhile back that cemented the idea for me. If music means that much to me, if it’s such a powerful force in my life, then why not write more about it?

Of course, for my big plan to work I first have to get to Synergy, which is proving a little problematic.

 

 

See, I’m dirt broke at the moment. In fact, less than dirt broke. I’ve been living off my goddamned credit card the past two weeks and I’m so far in the red I’m contemplating robbing a bank just to tide me over.

Can I afford the R410 for a ticket (x2 for my photographer J-Rab) – fuck no.

So of course, being arguably one of the best bloggers in the country who has gotten free VIP tickets to U2, Rocking The Daisies and Kings Of Leon to mention a few, I contacted the event organisers to see if they could help a brother out.

Here’s how that went:

ME: Hey guys, I fucking love at least 15 of the bands playing at this year’s Synergy and am the BIGGEST Black Rebel Motorcycle Club Fan in the entire fucking world, do you have media comps available for Synergy this weekend? I’ll give you HUGE love on my site.

THEM: No. All gone.

ME: Ok, um, well do your sponsors maybe have any tickets available?

THEM: That’s our sponsors prerogative.

ME: Huh. Well can you please send through some contact details so I can get in touch with them and see if they can help a brother out?

THEM: (verbatim) “Why would we share our sponsor details with you and why would they issue you with tickets? If you are such a big fan why don’t you just go and buy a ticket from webtickets or outlets?”

That made me feel like a gigantic asshole. So I wrote back and said the following:

ME: (also verbatim) “It’s quite simple, you would share your sponsor’s contact details with me and they would (hopefully) issue me with tickets because I’d do a great write up of the event, hopefully get an opportunity to interview some of the bands and generally give your event some positive exposure on my site and through Twitter.

But judging from your tone in that last email, I can see I’m wasting my time. You think I’m just another snot-nosed blogger angling for free shit.

There’s a little thing called reciprocity, which is a principle I live by and one that can be loosely described as helping people in the good faith that one day they will return the favour. 

You should try it sometime.
-ST

Not long after sending that, the guy I was communicating with (Person A) called to give me a piece of his mind over the phone, but to his credit ended the conversation saying I should call Person B and ask if they had any tickets available.

I called and was told the guy who handles the media comps is Person A and that as far as Person B knew there weren’t media comps left, but she’d chat with Person A and get back to me.

And so here I am. Less than 5 days before everything kicks off and I got zip.

Anyone out there know anyone who knows anyone who can hook me up with media comps for Synergy?

In the meantime, here’s one of my favourite BRMC songs, fittingly entitled “Ain’t No Easy Way” (people are naked in it, so if you’re watching it at work, maybe check over your shoulder first…)

 

 

Imagine them rocking out with that shit live! That song is going to MELT FACES on Saturday.

Hopefully I’ll be there to rock out with you guys, once I’ve finished wiping all the shit off my dream…

Stay tuned folks. The Tiger’s hitting up Synergy one way or another and when he gets there, he’s meeting Pete and the guys from BRMC and getting the best fucking interview out of them anyone has ever gotten, EVER.

Amen.

-ST

15
Nov
11

The Tiger Jumps Back On The Horse

Tiger_riding_a_horseHey party people, how the hell are ya!

It’s been way, way too long since I last did this. Work has literally been killing me the past two weeks, but things are finally stabilising which means I’m back in the saddle, riding this, the Anti-Christ of South African blogs once again, all flashing eyes and floating hair, towards the event horizon.

So what’s your Tiger pal been up to the past two weeks? Curazy pops that’s for sure, ricocheting all around the country like a piece of loose shrapnel.

Transport, motorways and tramlines, starting and then stopping, taking off and landing, the emptiest of feelings…

One minute I’m dressed in full black tie, sipping Johnnie Walker Blue Label and listening to Lewis Pugh speak about how his old man was part of the team of physicists that first started detonating nuclear bombs.

His old man was standing hundreds of miles away in full protective gear when the first one went off, but even that far away, the light was so bright he held his hand up to shield his eyes and saw the bones of his hands like he was looking at an x-ray of himself.

The next minute I’m dressed in a full kilt, sporran and ghillie shirt at the Cape Town leg of the Whisky Live Festival, regaling people with stories of Bell’s Special Reserve whilst pouring my way through 23 bottles of it, one shot at a time.

 

 

I’m in a plane flying over the mountain ranges of the Western Cape, I’m looking down and wondering what life would be like down there if I just build a house right there in those mountains, away from it all, J-Rab and I could start a family there, farm vegetables.

I wanna live in a wooden house. Making new friends would be easy…

I’m meeting with Diageo’s Global Whisky Ambassador, we’re doing one media interview after the next, he’s talking about how they drink whisky in Suriname with coconut water and in China with green tea. I’m nodding and smiling and thinking “Suriname… where the fuck is that?!”

I’m driving through the streets of Jozi, the ones I grew up on, and the sun is pouring out of the sky in waves so hot they’re turning the tar soft and leaving a shimmering heat haze over the horizon. It’s glorious how hot it is, how many memories this brings back.

 

 

I’m seeing my mom again after too long. I’m feeling that deep down sadness that echoes in the well of your soul when you can’t ignore how old your parents are getting. I wish I was a better son.

I’m flying into Shaka International, my stomach twisted up in knots because later that same day I’m going to co-ordinate a putting coaching session with the media and Gary Player. At seventy-six, when the man gives you an hour of his time, you make that hour count.

Everything comes together at the last second, and moments after I arrive at the putting green with the media, Mr Player’s golf cart pulls up, he steps out and like a true veteran, takes centre stage like a pro. It’s awesome watching him operate. Seventy-six years old and still able to keep his audience utterly captivated with every word.

I’m drinking Johnnie Black and watching Johnny Clegg rock out onstage. I’m thinking how much this man has seen and done, how he made it his life’s mission to write and perform music that brings us together. South African music, played with a lot of heart. Stories of love and bravery and triumph. I’ll play this music to my kids one day, whether we live in this country or not.

 

 

I’m standing side by side in the DJ booth with Gareth Cliff and we’re shooting the breeze. He’s surprising me with how utterly unaffected he is, I’m throwing curveballs at him and he’s smacking them out the park.

Other people come up to him every 5 minutes to say hi, or request a song or just tell him he’s rad and he takes the time to talk to them all. He’s a stand-up guy – don’t believe the bullshit people say about him, it’s based on jealousy, not fact.

And finally, I’m on a flight back home, so hungover it hurts to breathe. When I finally land what feels like eons later, J-Rab greets me at the airport with that beautiful smile of hers and I take her in my arms and breathe her in until my lungs feel like they’re going to burst.

We go home and I wash the hangover and grime from travelling off me. We curl up for an afternoon nap and in that moment I couldn’t be happier.

It’s been a rough two weeks, what you’re reading here are only the very best parts. The bad parts aren’t worth repeating or remembering and most of them I’ve already cut loose anyway.

I completely missed it in the midst of the chaos of the last two weeks, but it was my birthday on the 3rd of November.

I’m 28 years old now.

Ain’t that wonder Winking smile

-ST

27
Oct
11

Kings Of Leon Melt Faces In Cape Town

26102011430“If it bleeds, it leads,” is generally accepted as the first rule of journalism, which is why I should have been sceptical right from the outset when I heard that Kings Of Leon were cocky, arrogant arseholes who were known to give the middle finger to crowds who don’t hang onto every note the band plays.

Their performance last night in Cape Town was anything but cocky and arrogant, which proves that either the rumours were a load of utter shite, or the band were suitably impressed by their reception last night when they took to the stage and melted our faces off.

I was lucky enough to have been given VIP passes by the kind folks at Nokia, but even better than that was the fact that I also bagged one of 20 VIP parking tickets that were randomly put into the 200 media packs they handed out.

It’s the only way to go, seriously. J-Rab and I drove right INTO THE STADIUM after passing through security checks that were so intense, at one of them they unleashed a sniffer dog on us to make sure we weren’t packing any bombs to blow the place up (luckily I’m saving the bomb for when Maroon 5 come to play so I was safe).

Once inside we hopped in the lift, shot up to the fifth floor and sauntered into the Nokia suite where, like a typical blogger, I immediately started abusing the free drinks and taking pictures of the food.

 

 

We managed to catch the end of Shadowclub’s set which I was really impressed with. It’s a bit sad the stadium was basically empty at that stage because the guys put on a great show and played some killer blues/rock in the Strokes / Wolfmother / Black Rebel Motorcycle Club vein that would have gotten the crowd pretty pumped if there was one.

What quickly became apparent though was that while the Nokia lounge was seriously p1mping, it was pretty far away from the stage, and even with my camera on full zoom, this is what everything looked like:

 

 

A plan would have to be made… but not before another few rounds of drinks / bowls of biltong.

The Black Hotels followed Shadowclub and played a decent set, but sadly we missed quite a big chunk of it thanks to the varied distractions of the VIP lounge (whisky).

Unfortunately when it came to the SA bands, they were given such limited stage time that it felt like they were over before they’d really begun. On the plus side, their sound was surprisingly good and for once it didn’t sound like they were playing through rusty tin cans.

By the time Die Heuwels Fantasties took to the stage, the place was starting to really fill out and energy levels in the crowd were rising fast. Die Heuwels played like seasoned stadium veterans, but it wasn’t until Jack Parow joined them onstage for “Die Vraagstuk” that the crowd really started going batshit crazy.

From there on in, the night belonged to Kings Of Leon and I for one was truly blown away by their performance which, coming from a cynical basterd like myself, is saying a lot.

 

 

I started following KOL when Because Of The Times dropped and within weeks of getting my filthy mitts on that album, picked up Youth And Young Manhood and Aha Shake Heartbreak. 

For me, the material in those three albums is some of the band’s best to date, which was why I fucking loved their set last night.

Sure, they played the four tracks that make up the entire catalogue most South Africans know (ie. “Sex On Fire”, “Use Somebody”, “Radioactive” and “Pyro”), but they also played at least 7 or 8 tracks from Because Of The Times and some classics like “Molly’s Chambers” and “Taper Jeans Girl” from their first two albums.

It was a nod to their die-hard fans to remind us that before they exploded into the mainstream with Only By The Night KOL was our band, not 5FM’s, and the music they wrote was the soundtrack to our lives that we heard at random house parties and played on epic road trips.

 

 

I know I sound like a typical music snob saying it, but there’s a very close connection you feel to a band before they get picked up by the mainstream that is never quite the same after their material gets blasted on high rotation on every radio and TV station known to man.

And don’t even get me started on remixes. I’ve heard “Sex On Fire” remixed so many times I start twitching involuntarily whenever I hear that song butchered on another “doef doef” beat.

In a sentence, I loved KOL’s performance last night because it made me remember why I used to love this band and judging from how fucking nuts the crowd went, I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of the people there last night go out and buy their first three albums.

 

 

Also, Nathan Followill is a fucking SICK drummer. If you’re going to watch them in Joburg, keep an eye on that man, he’s truly amazing to watch live – he pounds the living shit out of his skins, it’s beautiful.

Joburg, prepare yourselves for a concert you won’t soon forget, but take my advice and go out there and get their first three albums because listening to those songs live is nothing short of breath-taking.

Big up to Nokia for hooking a brother up. I love your work guys, after the concert we partied at the VIP lounge until they turned the lights on and then J-Rab asked if she could have the flowers and kind folks at Nokia were like “Sure, go wild.”

 

 

But most importantly – Kings Of Leon, thank you for an amazing show, you made a believer out of this cynical music snob and for the two hours you were onstage, became our band again Winking smile

-ST

26
Oct
11

SlickTigers Movie Debut

IMG01469-20110813-0434A couple weeks back I posted this super cryptic post about the barbaric practise of “bear baiting” which used to take place in London in the 16th and 17th centuries in a place called the Beargarden.

Well, this Saturday we’re bringing the Beargarden back in the form of a short horror movie featuring your buddy ol’ pal Slicky-T.

So what I’m gonna do is show you the trailer for said horror movie.

But before you get all tetchy, lemme diffuse that little time-bomb by saying YES, I realise I’m basically not in the trailer at all, but I assure you I am in the actual movie.

 

 

Spooky, nè? Ja, this movie’s gonna make you okes KAK your broeke!

Actually, I have no idea what it’s gonna make you okes do as I haven’t seen the final version. The  writer / director / producer didn’t want any of us to see the final version until it’s on the big screen.

So here’s the dealy-o if you wanna come watch your Tiger-friend acting like a crazed, blood-soaked fucking maniac:

Date: Saturday 29 October
Time: 18h00 (starts at 18h15)
Place: Labia Theatre (68 Orange Street, Gardens, Cape Town, ZA)
Cost: Tickets are R30 each

They’re gonna be showing a shite-load of short horror movies that indie writers and directors from USA, Spain, Brazil, Finland, France and South Africa have shot. Each film is about 5 – 10 mins, so it should be pretty fucking wild.

Afterwards we’re going to celebrate my acting debut by getting completely out of hand probably somewhere on Long Street where I’ll be signing autographed pictures of my victims:

 

 

 

See you crazy cats there!

-ST

24
Oct
11

The Muizenberg Kite Festival: Average

128947679338947406Not too sure what I expected to find when we drove through to the kite festival happening in Muizenberg last weekend, but I guess a lot of kites would definitely have been at the top of my list.

Instead, what we found were a lot of people milling around who seemed a lot more interested in queuing for caravan food than they were in watching kites fly.

And who can blame them? After the age of 7, kites are kinda meh. You watch them zipping around in the sky and you think “that’s nice” and you carry on with your life.

So, in no particular order, here are some pics of the kites we saw on Saturday so you can also say “hm” and carry on with your life, safe in the knowledge that you missed absolutely nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

Right after that we found a festival of another kind entirely just around the corner, and this one had German beer by the goddamn BOAT LOAD!

I love you The Brass Bell.

 

 

So the day wasn’t a total waste. At least I think it wasn’t a total waste…? Things got a little blurry from that point on and then I woke up on Sunday to find this picture on my phone:

 

 

Good times I tell ya, good times…

Stay tuned later this week though, cause not only am I rocking out at Kings Of Leon on Wednesday, but I have some pretty exciting news about a film project I may or may not have acted in as a crazed, psychopathic FUCKING MANIAC!

So yeah. Don’t be a stranger Winking smile

-ST

20
Oct
11

Human Centipede 2 trailer. Yuk.

Human-Centipede-2-04So get this.

Tom Six, the writer and director of what is widely regarded as one of the worst films ever made, The Human Centipede, has decide to shit out a sequel, The Human Centipede Part 2 (Full Sequence).

The premise in the first one is the kind of thing you hear murmured on the internet but never expect to actually get made.

A surgeon who specialises in separating Siamese Twins goes batshit crazy and decides to surgically attach three people ass-to-mouth to create, well, a human centipede.

The idea is unthinkably disgusting, but the execution was surprisingly tame considering how bad he could have made it. Not so with Full Sequence which, if early reviews are to be trusted, is brutal.

This time around, it ain’t a surgeon doing the work, it’s a crazed oompa loompa who, in an interesting meta textual move, is obsessed with the first Human Centipede movie and wants to create his very own centipede in his garage.

Check it:

 

 

Very clever Tom Six. Very clever.

Make your antagonist watch the first movie, digest it in his twisted mind and shit out his own version of the original, exactly like the second person in the centipede eats and digests the shit of the first.

What a splendid imagination our friend Tom Six has. What a creative fellow!

Well done Tom Six. You are officially one of the most fucked up people I could think of off the top of my head.

-ST