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The Lottery Tickets

Firebirds and a face full of Gravel

by Brett Allen-White, images by Kate Davies / 01.09.2010

It’s getting a little late. We’re pumping Doomriders first album Black Thunder, nodding heads to their abrasive blend of bluesy hardcore, and screeching down Baden Powell Drive like a soccer mom car out of Hell. I didn’t get a Pontiac Firebird for my 21st. Renault Modus. Laugh it up.

The Hidden Cellar isn’t built for bands. It’s cramped. Hot. Loud. It reminds me of Roger Young. I like it. Dylan, the lumberjack I arrived with, and his bottle of Tassies have disappeared. I’m standing at the entrance having a word with the Lottery Tickets manager, Fred, about the Great Apes. He seems to be quite a big fan. I haven’t heard them before, and all of a sudden I can’t stop thinking about grapes. I hate grapes. But I make a note to check them out. The band, not the fruit. Horrible little things.

The opening band, Youth, is emo. And young. Which I guess makes sense. Their vocalist is reaching high notes I wouldn’t have thought possible for a man out of his teens, but despite the “we’re singing about our girlfriends” impression I get, they’re not half bad.

Goodness knows why, but I still love bands like Saves the Day and the Get Up Kids, and Youth remind me of a classic, honest emo band from that era… not some scenester nonsense group dressed up in Tim Burton uniforms. It’s pop punk, without pop punk guitars. I’d like to check them out again when they’ve had some time to tighten up and play with a more capable sound engineer. At the end of their set I resist the urge to give them a hug and some girl advice.

The Lottery Tickets

I don’t think I’ve met one person who’s gone to a Lottery Tickets show and left disappointed.

Sure, in the beginning they weren’t the tightest thing since a dolphin’s butt (water tight), but a year and a bit later I’m finding them to be one of the most exciting new bands to watch. Take indie rock, and add a dash of intelligent pop. Now shave the moustaches, drop the arrogance (you’re not doing anything the Rolling Stones didn’t do years ago, dude) and cut the obsession with those simpleton disco beats, and you’re left with something close to their sound.

I didn’t do a write up on their set. I was too busy dancing and singing along with the entire club. It’s contagious, infectious, but without the need for ointment. School teachers supporting Robbie cheered like bare-breasted teenagers at a KISS concert, free peach champagne flowed like milk from Mother Nature’s swollen bosom, and I even managed to tolerate the invading photographers (It’s simple: tap me on the shoulder and request that I give some space so you can take photos. Don’t shove me with your camera). That’s two references to boobs, if you didn’t catch them.

In addition to it being their official album launch for Occupations, it’s also drummer James “This Ring is a Fucking Birth Right” Regout’s farewell, as he’s moving to some place with no sunlight and shit weather for a while. I’m a bit sad about this, and choose to express myself with Jagermeister, which continues to haunt me until the beginning of the work week.

We end up at the petrol station with the Lottery boys after what turns out to be a blur of a night, craving things of dough and deep fried cheese, when I manage to get involved with someone confrontational. This charming young man, who I’m going to call Anger Boer, has decided to shout at his girlfriend and grab her arm because he isn’t ready to stop drinking and wants to go back to Bokke, boet. I mention, in passing, while eating a delicious burger that he shouldn’t treat his girlfriend like that. I end up with a face full of gravel (why on Earth was this primate holding a fistful of gravel… in case his girl stepped out of line?), and decide it’s best to taunt him from the inside of the car.

One thing a Renault Modus has that a Pontiac Firebird doesn’t is an auto-lock button. Good thing too, because it took three of the Incredible Hulk’s friends to choke hold him and pull him back from the window.

*Images © Kate Davies.

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RESPONSES (28)
  1. Peter Crafford says:

    Still so bummed that I missed the set. Love The Lottery Tickets!

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  2. Kate says:

    What a great night!

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  3. Matt says:

    Awesome pics!

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  4. Luke D says:

    Brett, I love your Modus.

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  5. heino says:

    haha this was one of the most entertaining pieces i’ve ever read. haha love it, brett!

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  6. Brett says:

    Thanks dudes.

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  7. Lorien says:

    In my head you are reading this aloud to me. A nice chunk of writing. x

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  8. Brett says:

    Trash can hands?

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  9. JoeBlog says:

    Leave the writing to Max.

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  10. Anonymous says:

    this is a story not a review.
    i dont know this bret character but i will assume all his friends love this piece?

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  11. Brett says:

    …and the trash can hands arrive!

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  12. Anonymous says:

    Lottery Tickets were great. Nice going, guys. The opening band were pretty good. Bit sloppy in parts. But definitely one for the future. But emo? I think not. Nice review.

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  13. Brian Green says:

    Meh!

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  14. Brett says:

    Not emo as an insult. Emo as an old school genre (please don’t make me give a detailed description on the rise and fall of the emo genre and the incorrect use of the term to label scene kids and mall goths). I liked Youth’s set. Nothing wrong with a little tongue in cheek though 😉

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  15. Anonymous says:

    entertaining article. thanks!

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  16. Anonymous says:

    bland as shit

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  17. Anonymous says:

    Dude, I have to agree, they are so not emo, and I know what you meant with the whole era thing and it being classic, but still, go check out their stuff on facebook, there’s not one shread of emo in it, it has a good vibe and it looks like they’re apealing to some or other crowd at the moment and the fans are lining up, and although not many people came to watch them that evening it looked to me like a lot of people were digging it though. I myself came to watch them, and yeah they were a little sloppy sometimes, and the soundengineer was SHIT, I mean, I couldn’t even here the lead guitar parts that are somewhat prominent on their recordings, but still, the energy that the band portrays on stage… I could feed off that and it made me want to party.

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  18. Brett says:

    As I said, I liked their set, and it sounded like old school emo to me. I’m keen to check them with better live sound (was it the venue or the engineer though? I’ve never heard good sound at Hidden Cellar…)

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  19. Righard says:

    i checked out the Lottery Tickets fb’ page recently out of interest, and saw their genre listed as ‘shebeen noise pop’. Naturally then, i expected something along the lines of the last Black Dice album, you know, really wonky, oblique and fun. Boy was i dissappointed.

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  20. Ben says:

    Hahaha! Thank god they don’t sound like Black Dice. Black Dice just another shit band who is “cool” to like.

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  21. Anonymous says:

    Worse than any Rodger Young standard.
    This journo wants us to think he and his life are cool. its glaringly obvious that the highlight of his evening was arguing with a jock and then running and hiding in his car. this also apparently seemed to be the highlight of this article. This got more words than the Lottery Tickets who were apparently launching an album, something this joirno only half heartedly includes as an afterthought among the celebration that is his life. If it was a more interesting life maybe the article wouldn’t have been as boring. But it’s one boring guy saying he drove his boring car to a gig where he danced and got drunk and then some jock argued with him so he hid in his car.
    Wtf if this the standard mahala is now setting?

    I have some killer parties too, and when I get home sometimes I am convinced it was a great night. Does this make me Mahala Material?

    It’s funny that Mahala journos get a lot of shit for HST fanboyism. But then you get this guy. I wonder if while he sat in his car with the windows and his heart rate way up, he was thinking to himself that this is quality article material.

    get better journos, or give the ones you have more interesting lives. I can only imagine a Mahala staff party. Calling each other Goths and drinking jello shots before declaring it the best night of the year.

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  22. Roger Young says:

    @Anonz Your assessment of the Mahala staff party is almost correct, except for one thing, we never call ANYTHING the best night of the year.

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  23. ShlongDong says:

    2 September Anonymous = Gravel_Jock?

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  24. Miggs says:

    Nicely done dude .

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  25. Anonymous says:

    @ShlongDong, I doubt that Gravel_Jock even knows what Mahala is, I think the closest thing Gravel_Jock has to a pc is his wooden club he uses to beat his girlfriend with, so no, 2 September Anonymous couldn’t be Gravel_Jock. But I must agree, some Mahala journos try to make their articles so detailed and sometimes so insulting that they miss the point of a review, sometimes there is more about the stuff that happened around the event than the event it self, and so the reader gets sidetracked and the mind get’s stuffed with the most needless bullshit making them wonder for i.e. about who the Gravel_Jock is, and why he’s grabbing his girlfriend, and why the writer is sitting in his car, safe behind a window and why he isn’t doing anything about it… see what I meen, there’s almost no though of what the review is actualy about…

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  26. Hmph says:

    So how was the gig then? It was an album launch.. write about the gig and not a random jock.
    I was at the gig, it was great – pity you couldn’t write about it.

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  27. Unknown Not Cloned says:

    This is a fairy tale. No balls.

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  28. damndemons says:

    no balls indeed. bad play

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