Joe Nuttall & Enola Fall

Stalk me. Go on.

http://twitter.com/Joe_Nuttall

It’s like a mailing list but more intrusive, and involves technology I do not understand..

Join here..

http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/pages/Enola-Fall/19134302805?ref=ts

…she really is.

Thanks to everybody that came to the show and tied it all into a huge ball of awesomeness, which we then batted around like some playful kittens. Or something.

Anyhoo.. we’ll be starting on a video in the next few weeks and require any burlesque dancers, firetwirlers, jugglers, clowns, breakdancers, ninjas or mad bastards who would like to be inlvolved. Let us know.

Finally, I’d love to hear from you. Send any mail or greetings/death threats to.. nuttallghost@hotmail.com

Thankyou… message ends.

Hi kids,

Enola Fall will be supporting the lovely Amanda Palmer (the Dresden Dolls) on her two Hobart shows at the Brisbane Hotel, on the 14th and 15th of March.

The show on the 14th will be ALL AGES, so there really is no excuse.

In other news, there are new songs emerging from that strange wardrobe that goes down to Narnia. They’ll be hopefully available for free download in the next couple of months. Plus video releases and other exciting stuff.

We’ll keep you posted if we can stay awake. Thank Jah for cheap coffee.

Well, that’s that.

I am sitting in blinding sunshine in Federation square typing this, with four hours to go before boarding a plane for Tas. The final gig is over ‘Rob Zombie’ the tour van has been returned with only minor damage, and The GLORIOUS 5 YEAR PLAN has come to an end.

I hope you enjoyed reading this account, and if you came to the shows, I hope we see you again on the WEEKEND WARRIOR tour this April/May.

Thanks for reading,

Joe.

Here is the past 6 days in brief…

Brisbane.. Hamish gets lost and wanders into the ghetto. Is found sometime later drinking a ‘middy’ in a pub down the road. Later we embark upon an impromptu percussion jam in South Bank.

We spend the night in Surfers, surrounded by thousands of tiny blonde surfer versions of the hitler youth. We go swimming, head out into the ‘strip’ converse with English people and eventually head to bed. Several hours later a man is shot to death a few metres down the road.

What a town.

The Hopetoun show in Sydney is great. It’s a lovely little place in Surrey Hills, I become incredibly fond of it and henceforth name it the best (so far) venue of the tour.

My opinion of Sydney keeps changing every time I am there. This time I am rather enamoured of it. Less heart than Melbourne perhaps, but it’s an extremely pretty place.

And so to Sale, after a record breaking 11 hour drive, at the end of which we are all but insane and throwing our poo at each other. Sale itself is a pretty non descript little town. The home of an RAAF airbase, it sports several pubs which we were rather pleased to find open. I am writing this at the end of a protracted pub crawl.

And so, love to  you and yours, until next time.

Joe.

The half way point has been reached and breached. The taco incident is receeding into the past and we spend each and every day saturated in sweat. Someone informed me only last night that we have chosen the most humid and freakishly hot week to come to Qeensland. Werd.

Sydney to Surfers was punctuated by a stay in a COMPLETELY UN-AIRCONDITIONED cabin in Port Macquarie. This has kind of set the tone for the rest of our Northern adventure, although the living conditions have somewhat picked up to incorporate pools, and cold beer. Which is a turn up.

Brisbane is a pretty amzing looking city, with a a road system straight out of 1800s London. It’s like driving though a hall of mirrors. We fetched up at the QUT Guild bar to play a set while PNAU played a festival three meters away through a hedge. That was strangest gig yet, not to mention the heat/humidity crazed punters spinning vague stories about surfing with the Red Hot Chilli Peppers and sheep shearing with Soundgarden whilest we waited to load out. Bizzaro.

With three or four hours to kill in Brisbane, I go seeking riches, glory and a fried egg sandwich. more soon..

Food poisoning and Enola Fall tours have a long and rich history. So it came as fairly little surprise when, about an hour after the best gig yet at the Phoenix in Canberra, I once again descended into gut cramps, spewing and basically feeling rotten.

As it goes, I still feel this way. Kind of hoping that it FUCKS OFF at some point and I can get on with enjoying the tour.

In other news, the drive Melbourne to Canberra is fiendishly long. Due mainly to the fact that the highway GOES AROUND IN CIRCLES before it finally deposits you in the leafy but oh so hot and bland suburbia of the nation’s capital.

We spent the day in the city. It is by far the strangest Australian city I have been to (this being my first time) all vast empty boulevards and anywhere-USA style architecture. It was during this time that I encountered the fateful taco that has decreed my fate. Check out a pic of the offending article at www.linclefevre.com/blog

The gig that night was at the Phoenix bar in the middle of town. Although the venue is the shape of a tunnel, it actually filled up pretty nicely and the whole show went swimmingly up until the vomitous conclusion.

Wish me luck

Hi hi.

We are currently three days into our national tour. In Geelong after just finishing up at ‘The Studio’, a strangly formal room in the middle of town. It’s not a pub, and it’s not a hall, it’s more like a recital room, or indeed a studio. *ahem*

Geelong is a strange town, shades of Launceston in the long, flat streets and low skyline. Does seem a bit livelier though. Although we made record time for fucking off out a pub that started playing Pink songs at a decibel level more suited to an F-16.

Also, the van has not yet been named, please let me know any suggestions before the end of the tour, and it shall be thusly christianed. it is beginning to look like a serious beast of burden, and needs a title to match.

Melbourne again tomorrow, before heading straight up to Canberra. City of culture and stark raving lunacy.

more tomorrow.

Love Joe.

Hello,

It is now exactly one week until we embark on the first ever national Enola Fall tour. The state of my nerves is steady for the time being, held together by coffee and a naive altrusitic belief that things will turn out for the best.

CD launch this Saturday, with ALL FIRES THE FIRE, AND PETER ESCOTT.

Rather unfortunately, the MONA FOMA fuck buttons gig is on the same night. So there will more than likely be a lot of crossover. Fuck Buttons have been described to me as ‘post punk/noise’. It seems that every new band I hear about is ‘post punk/noise’. Maybe it’s age.

Sooner or later I’m likley to start holding forth about Neil Young and dribbling on the cigarette burns in my shirt.

The Hives are in my car stereo, as well as a gigantic huntsman spider that seems to pissed off up into vents. This frightens me on quite a deep level.

Love Joe.