favourite genres
  • Indie
  • Pop
unearthed artists i'm following

(2)

Unearthed artists I'm following:

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Unearthed Listeners I'm following:

Christo Jones

Review

Review by The Sycamores The Sycamores

02 Mar 2017

50

Listened to the whole EP last night - hypnotising, enthralling, sublime stuff.

Listened to the whole EP last night - hypnotising, enthralling, sublime stuff.

Bagster

Review

Review by The Sycamores The Sycamores

19 Jan 2017

50

It's not often remarked upon now, but Bagster used to go by the name "Ster" for the first few years of their existence. I was a huge fan back then, and used to make sure I always caught the show whenever they played within an hour's drive of our town.

Well one day, I was lucky enough to snag some tickets to a big festival Ster were playing at in Sydney. A bunch of us...

It's not often remarked upon now, but Bagster used to go by the name "Ster" for the first few years of their existence. I was a huge fan back then, and used to make sure I always caught the show whenever they played within an hour's drive of our town.

Well one day, I was lucky enough to snag some tickets to a big festival Ster were playing at in Sydney. A bunch of us roadtripped down and spent the night at someone's cousin's house, and on the day itself we made sure to get to the stage an hour before they went on and work our way up to near the front.

They played a few songs, and then the lead guy kind of paused the show. He said he had a special treat in store for us - a magic trick - and asked whether anybody in the audience had a bag. Obviously I went crazy yelling and waving my hands, and they called me up onto the stage along with my frayed Billabong school bag.

He confirmed with me and to the audience that he'd never met me or seen my bag before, and that the bag was just a normal bag and had not been tampered with. He then had me hand it to him, and tipped its contents onto the stage dramatically (it pretty much just had my hoodie in it and a plastic water bottle.) They then had a couple of roadies wheel a big coffin type of box on stage, and put my bag inside of it. The lead Ster dude waved his hands and said some magic words, and then some pyrotechnics exploded, to the roaring approval of the audience. When the smoke cleared and they reopened the box, my bag was gone, and I was clapping just as hard as everybody else.

I was ushered off by security as the band resumed its set (they actually started playing Skeletons, I think), and I was obviously expecting to be taken backstage and given my bag back. Instead, they led me to the exit. I waited around for a bit, thinking that someone from Ster's management or something would come out at any moment to give me my bag back, but eventually I got impatient and approached the security guards to ask about it. They told me they couldn't let me in without a pass, and acted like they didn't know what I was talking about. When I tried to push my way in, they threatened to have me thrown out of the festival. I gave up, and decided that I'd probably never see my bag again. But boy was I wrong.

The following day, Ster announced that they would be holding a press conference in an hour. This was in those pre-Facebook, pre-Spotify days, so most of the then-vibrant Australian music press quickly assembled, and it was broadcast live on Rage.

The boys walked out to the flash of a hundred camera bulbs, and I saw that the lead guy was holding something familiar - my bloody backpack. He waved his hand to silence the chattering throng of press, and boomed in his commanding baritone:

"As of today, Ster...is dead. Long live...BAGSTER!". He held my bag aloft, triumphant.

The crowd gasped, and begun muttering excitedly, scandalised but intrigued. I was so angry watching it on TV, but there was nothing I could do about it.

I used to fantasise about confronting them at one of their gigs and demanding my bag back, but I'd never get the chance. That press conference was the start of their meteoric rise, and they'd never play any venue smaller than an arena after that. To my chagrin, I'd often see footage from their concerts shown on the news, and without fail one member of the band was ALWAYS wearing my bag on their back. A friend of mine told me he read a Rolling Stone article on it; apparently they wore that bag until it fell apart, and then ended the band then and there, never to play again. I try not to think about it, but even years later it still makes me mad. This is a pretty good song though.

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