Will climate change kill the Arctic Monkeys?

Yes. It will kill all your favourite bands. But don't worry it will kill all the poor people who live by the water first. They might ask to come in, you'll say NO.

It's all over. Your daughter might listen to the monkeys up on Mars. She brought a canister up there, with "Sounds from Earth", genre "World Music" on it. African monkeys, Arctic monkeys - those entries come one after the other, because there wasn't time at the end, or monkeys, to get the full range of what Earth used to have to offer. 

This wasn't going to be lighthearted, but the truth is, I thought all day about the Great Barrier Reef, and a suddenly dead, disappeared huge river in Canada, but I still managed to laugh and smile tying bells to huge chopsticks for our other friends' wedding. Our friend told us a story about learning she was not Italian but Indonesian, and then learning she was not Indonesian but Chinese: slippery but good-hearted fathers.

All those places end up on the canister. Once you can't see Venice anymore you can still talk about it, like Atlantis. Venice, the second Atlantis of Earth, if you don't count Kiribati, the Solomons, Nuatambu, Choiseul, Taro, because they are poor and brown and fleeing. DON'T LET THEM IN. Do they even know how to DJ house music?

I wonder what they'll play over the speakers as the last Mars ship takes off. The launching pads have ocean water and a cyclone and desperate reindeer lapping at their feet. Will it be "The End of the World" 1962 semi-classic song by Skeeter Davis, made famous by the series "Mad Men", or will it be a song from the Murrum people of Norn Norn Nup (Walpole) sung for thousands of centuries and containing all the information we needed to live here forever until the sun dies.

That's the hope, another earth, another state of existance. "The End of the World" is country music, another dead genre. No houses, no countries, no gods, no masters, on Mars. Jks, just no houses.

I tend to think, everything is important. Every good action is worth doing, even if it's miniscule. But perhaps eschewing takeaway coffee cup lids is stopping me from starting or joining a true revolution. 

The 61,000 starved to death frozen reindeer are probably still there on the Russian peninsula. They will provide protein for the last rich people. Maybe Leonardo Di Caprio will remake "The Revenant" in real life, feasting on that last frozen flesh, afforded a plane ticket because everyone preferred coal and oil powered movie screens and plastic drink bottles and celebrity worship over taking care of Krill or Dragonflies or Balga Trees. 

My daughter is looking down from the rocket - this might seem like sci-fi but it's actually happening, I saw the vision on the land of the Murrum people looking up to Mars last week with 10 teenage boys, leading them through a wilderness we're ending, telling them over and over and they mocking me back with the words "Don't Step on the Moss!" as if it mattered. 

There you go. And what did we get for the end of the world? The cool aesthetic of the industrial revolution. BCF. Space travel. The concept of "work" (economics, not physics). White rice. A typewriter. Dying arctic monkeys. 

If They Even Exist

so i went to put on a record just now. in my mind it went like this "i'd like to listen to some music by a woman." i ruffle through the records. there were some ladies in there - but mainly just as pictures on the cover.

i looked and looked. it's not like trying to find a needle in the hay stack, but it's like trying to find a four-leafed clover. it's 2016, man.

anyway, thursday night we played at el grotto. me and evelyn had been eating mint slices in the back yard and ev talking about a musicians' union. we started it - the union - the next night at the bird. it went like this, me: "i'll join it", matt saville, photographer, musician, videographer :"me too". there we go: begun.

well we drove to scabs, pulled up in front of this loud, dim lit, fully-scabs taco and tequila eat and drinkery place. women in high heels, men with hair gel and long tshirts. and that was it, el grotto. ev and i burst out laughing when we saw it. "ahh, do they know what music we play?!"

it seemed crazy, but we were ready, a gang of two. the gang became three when we realised luke rinaldi from the bakery was doing sound, and then five when we saw rupert and rebecca, there to be Erasers, and six when one of the owners, kane, came out and told us we could have food, drink, our tab was at the bar, and then started in straight up with the music talk and compliments to ev, who he'd seen do their pikelet set at camp doogs a month before. i thought he was keen on ev but it turned out he was just truly keen on music and on bringing strange good things into his taco and tequila bar, taking the scarborough bra boys up on their exposed v neck chests and saying "here you go fella, you've exposed your heart to the night, here's something real and true to pour into it."

and then eight - beth from Pool Boy and jordan the handsome bird watcher and private piano player joined us too.

well, i set up and started, began with some loops to quiet the crowd, but instead just gave myself a taste test of why it would actually be good to start practicing. it was so loud - people devouring their delux tacos and cocktails and thinking about their branding. i'm not trying to be a snob, just be humourous, and then ev got up on the drums, buddying up behind me to send something out into all that ocean swell. people were sitting at the front, smiling at us. i can see them through my closed eyes, for the last song i called out over the mic; /"this is a VERY SPECIAL SONG, LISTEN TO ME". but really i meant listen to the song, and then sung to them about human rights and every other thing that truly just consumes us every day.

i read an article the other day where the woman's thesis was that everyone's into special foods and clean living because we are going mad and perishing under the evil weight of this current kind of capitalism and the climate change it brings, but we're too lazy or uninspired or beaten down to attack the real problem so instead we give up sugar once in a while and complain about identity politics. i concur, kind of.

even though i'm reducing her argument somewhat.

team rupert and rebecca are ready now for you. they are flawless these days, it's just the walls and the ceiling surrounding you, and your legs get taken on a trip elswhere. not really, it's really grounded, in the sounds, in their solid compositions set something up and stay there. it's repetitive and never boring, like the first two weeks an alien comes to earth, marvelling daily at the rising and setting of the sun, and viewing human life as a … film, all vivid patterns, repetition, unity, grand design. i was eating a taco but got in there quick smart - but actually the sounds were even better outside - somehow louder, more unified. but we can't help wanting to be close to our friends. even if they all had the plague we'd go right up next to the stage to look them in the eyes.

some guys from a "brand" came to talk to me. they were enthusiastic. they offered me other drummers when they found out ev was from the other side. they talked of new year. brand is a strange word, but people think it now even when they don't use it. but comeon, let's fight against the commodification, the brandification of everything.

Brandom… a new company that use plant-generated algorithms to design your next campaign - colours, copy, even the product. aie! this is my instant idea.

when evelyn played, my body and spirit set to tingling. it began two songs in. the first songs i was talking to jordan, the twitcher, about what it's like to play shows, what it all means, what i want people to feel, how you never can know how it's going to turn out. well, then evelyn got into it, and i, as one of her audience got into it. i could hear she was singing for the woman whose dad had introudced her to ev as "my son, i mean, my daughter, i mean my son". wrong crowd for that hesitation.

this song she was singing "it is open, it is open, it is unwritten", well, i'm getting goosebumps on my skin from the mind of the Big Infinite just thinking about it. like, right now at the typewriter, listening to Buzy and telling you about a song. that's what you want, music blessed by the Big Spirit that can change people, hold them up in their distress, fill them with power to change self, world, move the spiritual realms if they even exist.