The Twits Give Me the Shits
 

The Twits at the 2004 Big Day Out

I had to force myself away from their (Sonic Animation's) set to go to the Lilypad where I was loyally going to see the Twits.

That was a fucking stupid thing to do. Not referring to the abilities of the Twits, who are a great live band (and a fairly ordinary recorded band, and I know this because of the other stupid thing I did, which was buy the Twits album), but because they were running late and I had to put up with the fucking mediocre "entertainment" that the Lilypad was putting on. Still, I got a seat on a big communal beanbag and the huge bald guy next to me silently gave me the last of his spliff (obviously the innocent face failed me).

Still, the wait was worth it. Say what you like about the Twits, they are an experience live. The first time I ever saw them was at the tribute at the Espy for the late Tim Hemensley, at which Fred was ten inches from my face belting his dick with a microphone. Needless to say I feel compelled to see every gig they ever play. What could be more attractive than the sight of a man who looks alarmingly like my grandpa wearing nothing but a shirt with a picture of a naked female torso and the words "KATE SHAW'S TITS" and a Hello Kitty g-string, fucking a large plush rabbit? I just don't see anything to dislike about this situation. The music is old-fashioned, dumb-arse punk - kinda like the stuff that's popular with the kids now, but not fucking run through a professional laundry with extra bleach. I bought the CD thinking it would capture the live energy - um, no. Go see them live instead. Although it's not compulsory, I suggest you get pissed first.

Barb, TISM Self Storage