Ill Communication

A few weeks ago, my awesome friend Trace Dogg got married to his lovely girlfriend. In the run-up to the wedding, I had an idea for a card that I could make for him, and got VERY excited about it. You see, Trace Dogg is a huge Beastie Boys fan (his Root Down rendition is a thing of beauty) and I had the perfect line from a Beasties song that would totally work for a Happy Wedding Day card.

"I’m a newlywed, not a divorcé / And everything I do is funky like Lee Dorsey".

I hadn't ever really noticed the line before (it's from Sure Shot), until I saw someone point it out in the comments in an excellent 7 Reasons To Love the Beastie Boys article that Anna Carey wrote for The Anti Room about two years ago. I thought it was a cool line and filed it away in my brain with random bits of songs that I know, along with the Animaniacs Nations of the World song. I can get as far as Guam.

Anyway, Trace Dogg + wedding + Beastie Boys = Sure Shot.

Obviously.

So I made this:


I was pretty pleased with myself. Especially when I could see him knowing exactly what the reference was before he'd finished reading it. It was also a fun way of finding out who else at the wedding was a Beasties fan, as for the most part the card was met with polite puzzlement, but Trace Dogg liked it and that's all that mattered.

And because it's fucking tune and a half, here it is. Mimed by Muppets!


Turn that motherfucker up.

Heads Will Roll

There's this song that's been stuck in my head since I heard it. Thankfully this isn't like the times when you get a Harvey Norman jingle or a One Direction song stuck in your head and you start to lose the will to live. It's quite the opposite, I'm more than happy to have this song lodged in my brain. In fact, I think I've forgotten the words to one of the verses of Jump Around, in order to make room for it. The fact that I'm ok with that speaks volumes about how good it is.

If this typeface was a person I'd shift the face off it and make it a lasagna for dinner.

The song in question is Queen Herod Will Find You, by Queen Herod. As awesome as the name is, the story of the song is pretty much exactly the sort of thing I love.

"This tells the story of Queen Herod, a giant, murderous witch who lives in an isolated castle in the forest. She gathers the children from their homes and eats them. But does she eat them because she's lonely, or is she lonely because she eats them?"

Oooh! And look at the beautiful, creepy video!



Queen Herod is the lovely, jangly, bitey alter ego of Dublin artist and musician Holly Pereira. Her debut EP can be listened to here (it's really very good, I highly recommend you listen) and is being launched in Whelans on the 13th December.

Queen Herod is on Facebook too. You'd better go say hello, because she WILL find you, you know.

Words With Friends

I actually meant to post this video ages ago, but was most likely distracted by something shiny. And/or chocolatey. Shiny chocolate, perhaps. The following video is for The Friend Song by EleventyFour. It was filmed on a drizzly Sunday in Rathmines, where the Bear and I joined an assortment of Eleventy's friends and partook in some frisbee throwing in the rain, eating so many Refresher sweets that our jaws were temporarily glued shut (that might just have been me, actually) and frantically miming our way through a game of charades.



The charades game was particularly fun, as I hadn't played it in years. The Bear and I weren't allowed to be on the same team though, as the others had decided to hold our track record of being really good at Cranium together against us and so we ended up on opposing teams. Those jerks. Each team was then given the task of coming up with the things the other team had to mime. Which means that it was ENTIRELY the Bear's fault when I pulled out a piece of paper for my turn, unfolded it and froze in horror.

THE VAGINA MONOLOGUES.

Are you fucking KIDDING ME. As I steeled myself for what was going to be the most embarrassing miming ever, two more friends of Eleventy's arrived, whom I've NEVER MET BEFORE IN MY LIFE. They sat down, joined a team each and looked at me expectantly from the couch.

And so I began.

Play....three words....first word....the!....third word....three syllables....

................

................

................

I had nothing. I was drawing a complete blank as to how I could possibly convey the word "monologues" with my increasingly erratic gesturing. With a resigned sigh, I signalled that I was moving on to the second word.

And pointed at my crotch.

They got it immediately. Thanks a lot Bear, you ASS.

Your Kids Are Gonna Love It

Way back in April, I was regaling you all with tales of a weekend spent cutting something like two hundred fish shapes out of coloured paper, sacrificing faithfulness to original film set design as my instinct to stay inside the lines while painting a banner took over and generally dancing till my feet were about to explode. It was all in aid of a terrifically fun video shoot for The Dead Flags and if you managed to somehow bypass me enthusing about the finished result on other quarters of the internet, well WORRY NOT.

But first some stills, as I'm super delighted with how the room looked in the final video and so glad that the wrist pains from all the scissors action and steady-handed letter painting totally paid off.


The Bear and I managed to pop up a fair bit in the video, jiving up a storm and doing our best not to trip over. There's also a bit where the lower half of my red dress looks quite cool and swishy, if I do say so myself.


Now, for your viewing and listening and Back To The Future loving pleasure, You Got It Wrong:

Fair City's Finest

You may remember that some time ago I designed EP artwork for the very lovely EleventyFour. Part of that design consisted of her new logo, a depiction of Eleventy driving a forklift against a Rubik's cube background in honour of her song Forklife, which concerns her stealing a forklift and using it to do good deeds.


Since then, the wheels of EleventyFour's plan for world domination have been well and truly set in motion, with her whimsical influence most recently reaching as far as...


FAIR CITY


I have been reliably informed that this charming young man is called Wayne. As someone who doesn't actually watch Fair City, I can only assume that he's something akin to Carrigstown's version of The Fonz.

Here we see Wayne heroically consoling his friend who is quite clearly distraught over his choice in cushion pattern. If Wayne had been there at the time, his cushions would be amazing. Because Wayne knows the entire Ikea catalogue off by heart.

Wayne about to rescue a barrel of puppies from rolling down a hill.

Considering I was excited to see something I designed on iTunes, I can safely say that it now pales in comparison to to the brilliance of SUPERWAYNE and his excellent choice in logo t-shirts.

You Got It Wrong

A few weeks ago I was delighted to be asked by Billy Flag to design an EP cover for The Dead Flags. Seeing as I had so much fun designing one for EleventyFour not so long ago, I jumped at the chance. The band wanted something a bit Hitchcock, a bit Saul Bass and a bit retro in style. After a few listens to the tracks I zeroed in on the idea of using hands in the design, as each song is linked by references to either hands, touching or holding. And here's what the result was:


The finished CD case is a much brighter blue than the photo suggests (empty cider cans from last night's Presidential debate drinking game are just about out of shot) and I'm really happy with how it turned out. The EP features the bouncy, fifties rock 'n roll-tinged title track You Got It Wrong, the supremely sing-a-long-able What's It All About and a terrific funk-drenched remix of Let's Start A Fire Tonight by electro sexfunk overlord Jack Samson.

It's already been clocking up mighty favourable reviews on Pop Culture Monster, Boob.ie and MutantSpace, but don't just take their collective words for it, come along to the launch gig in Whelan's on the 26th of October! If you click attending on the Facebook event page here you'll even get a discount on the admission price and you can hardly say fairer than that now, can you? Head over to their website for more tour dates and a listen to the tracks. They're a tremendously fun live band and I for one will be found in Whelan's on the 26th, drinking on a school night and dancing my socks off.

Truly Truly Truly Outrageous

One of my more recent charity shop finds and one that I was particularly delighted with was a VHS tape in a battered case with a special offer sticker from days gone by half peeled away. But not just any tape, for this was in fact the all-singing all-dancing ninety minute extravaganza that is the first five episodes of Jem. Girls born in the Eighties, brace yourselves.
 

I watched it on Saturday afternoon and can confirm that it is exactly as cheesy, sparkly, demented and brilliant as I hoped it would be. It was a bucket of glittery nostalgia being thrown in my face, interspersed with one minute music video segments and I LOVED it. The outfits are bitchin', the hair is enormous and multicoloured, the pop songs are insanely catchy and the storylines are utterly bonkers. Just to recap, Jerrica (Jerrica? Seriously? Not even a real name) Benton's father dies and she inherits half of his record company and a house full of orphaned girls. As you do. She then receives a mysterious gift of earrings that lead her to a supercomputer called Synergy, designed by her late father. The computer can project holograms and transforms Jerrica into pink-haired pop sensation Jem.

Look at the SIZE of that hair! The sheer weight alone would be enough to snap any normal person's neck.

Jerrica's makeover and an evil music executive trying to take over the company then results in the formation of Jem and the Holograms, comprised of Jerrica's redhead sister, the Eighties-tastically named Kimber (who doesn't seem to mind that her dad left her fuck all in the will) on keyboards and their friends, blue-haired guitarist Aja (who I thought was Eastern European from her accent but is actually supposed to be Asian) and purple-haired Shana (who immediately hooks up with the only other black character in the show) on synth drums. Synth. Drums.


The rival band in the show, and the one I remember best from my childhood are The Misfits. They're the punky, brazen and mean counterparts to Jem and her do-gooder Holograms, led by the perpetually snarling and scheming green-haired frontwoman Pizzazz. The rest of the band is made up of white-haired bassist bitch Roxy (who seems to display slightly sociopathic tendencies, as she very nearly steamrollers Jem and the Holograms to death just for the hell of it at one point) and my favourite character from when I used to watch it, blue-haired keytar player (KEYTAR!) Stormer, who is actually the only nice member of the Misfits. Although watching it as an adult, I realised that she's actually a total pushover and could do with copping the fuck on and not putting up with Pizzazz and Roxy's bossy bullshit.


The Misfits were my strongest memory from the show, which may be partly due to their magnificent entrance in the first episode. They smash into the record company office on not-at-all-unwieldy GIANT GUITAR MOTORBIKES and threateningly circle Jerrica, bursting into their first song. Incidentally, their songs are far better than those of the Holograms. While Jem's numbers simper over love and friendship, the Misfits sing about causing trouble, winning at all costs and other assorted divilment. The music videos in the show seem to provide either an opportunity for a montage or even better, actually just reuse footage from previous episodes and videos, often completely irrelevant but shoehorned in nonetheless in what had to be cost saving measures. Needless to say, eight year old me didn't notice at the time. Twenty seven year old me was most amused by it all.

Giant guitar bikes. The only way to travel.

An aspect of the show that seemed to go over my head as a child is the love triangle storyline between Jerrica, her boyfriend Rio and Jem. Winning the award for most oblivious boyfriend ever, Rio has no idea that Jem and Jerrica are the same person, even though the only difference is their hair and a bit of pink facepaint. However, he seems happy enough to cheat on his girlfriend with...eh...his girlfriend in disguise, shifting the face off Jem at every given opportunity. Which isn't really cheating at all, but HE DOESN'T KNOW THAT. If he'd just get his dopey horn under control for all of five minutes he might realise that his beloved Jerrica is inflicting the biggest mindfuck of all time on him.


Anyway, once I had finished the video and was searching the internet for pictures for this post, I realised that there were TONNES of episodes I had never seen. Later into the series there were even new band members added to both the Holograms and the Misfits. Raya, a Latina drummer temporarily replaced Shana, who later rejoined the band and Jetta, an obnoxious Brit sax player with a brilliant Adam Ant style lightning bolt across her forehead was added to the Misfits line-up.


And, AND as if that wasn't enough of a surprise (for me anyway) there was A WHOLE NEW BAND introduced to the series in the form of The Stingers (supposedly based on German metal band The Scorpions), led by frontman Riot with a head of hair that would outgay both Siegfried and Roy, accompanied by Aryan hotties Rapture and Minx.


BUT THAT'S NOT ALL! At one point Kimber and Stormer, both feeling unappreciated, temporarily leave their respective bands, record an album together and embark on a tender and exploratory love affair. Alright fine, I made up that last bit but that would have been an amazing storyline.

I don't know about you, but the picture on the left screams "INTENSE SEXY LADY LOVE!" to me anyway.

Other new developments to me include Clash, a Misfits groupie and henchwoman with bloody MARVELLOUS hair who uses disguises to sabotage whatever Jem and the Holograms happen to be up to at the time.


There's an 11 disc Jem boxset due to be released in October, which I'll be most unsubtly dropping hints about in the run up to the C word. (Christmas, not cunt. In case you were wondering.) But for now, I'll leave you with some shots of the outrageously ferocious Eighties explosion that is the fashion from the series. Leggings and side-ponytails a go-go!

Hectic Picnic

I think it's pretty safe to say that Electric Picnic is essentially a weekend of guaranteed merriment, regardless of how demented the weather has decided to be at that given point in September. Of this I am convinced, having had spectacular fun at the the wet, muddy, cold version in 2009 and the earlier ones around 2005 and 2006 where there was actual honest to God SUNSHINE for most of the weekend and I have the photos and rather hazy memories to prove it. Anyway, that's enough preamble. For this was yet another shenanigan-filled three days, which involved the following...


> Santigold taking the roof off the Electric Arena on Friday night, such was the ferociousness of her electro/superfunk set, sending the crowd into a frenzy. Her show was made all the more amazing thanks to her two backing dancers that would out-fierce Tyra herself, bopping along in perfect time with matching golden pom-poms which were soon exchanged for giant hammers, which then gave way to lassos for the part when the pantomime horse came onstage and danced to the music. Yes. A DANCING PANTOMIME HORSE. I want to live inside Santigold's head.

> The Salty Dog shipwreck stage being its usual decadent, dreamy and brilliant self, where we caught Jerry Fish and The Mudbug Club, a Cajun band I can't quite remember the name of and most importantly, the three delightful cancan dancers that frequent The Burlesque and Cabaret Social Club. Jackpot.


> Getting our disco on at the glittery, sparkly wonderfulness of Bitches With Wolves. I seriously can't get enough of this band, not to mention frontman James O'Neill's AMAZING Eighties Madonna dance moves. Eighties Madonna but miles better, in fact.

> Ambling past someone in the full bespectacled, stripey jumpered Wally outfit passed out asleep under a tree.


> The sheer joy of getting to see the very lovely and tremendously talented EleventyFour play both the Peace Pagoda and the Love Letter Stage in Body & Soul. Both of her sets seemed to attract the most random, bizarre and brilliant of happenings, what with the man dressed as a tiger raving to her sweet, funny, folksy stylings, a zombie bridal party stopping by for a listen, a conga line of people disguised as a deck of cards scampering through the audience, and that's actually only the half of it. She handled all the distractions marvellously with her witty banter and the audience most firmly on her side for the Eleventy vs Loud Drumming Bastards debacle. She's recounted the whole thing on her own site and it makes for most surreal and entertaining reading. Also, I completely missed the fact that I had been sitting near Pop Culture Monster at her gig, who I would've loved to have met properly. Next time, purple monster!


> Mr. Billy Flag distracting the drunk-ass headwrecker that kept asking us all what our favourite Bruce Springsteen song was by pointing to the middle distance and shouting "What's that over there!?" whereupon we all legged it in the opposite direction. It was the only way, there was just no getting rid of this fucker.


> Tieranniesaur stomping some amazing funk pop into the main stage of Body & Soul, with bass lines so big and delicious I wanted to eat them. The bass lines, not the band. There was also a brief appearance by frontwoman Annie Tierney's brother Mick Pyro, which was rather class.

> Discovering the genius that is Abandoman in the Comedy Tent. An improv hip-hop duo that stormed through a series of amazing on the spot songs, earning themselves three standing ovations from the delirious crowd. After that astounding performance, MCs Andrew Stanley and Damien Clarke led the audience through the first verse of Fresh Prince Of Bel Air, with the entire tent taking over when they forgot the rest of the words because we all knew it by heart, obviously. David O'Doherty's meandering lo-fi whimsy followed, which was hilarious as ever and topped off what was possibly my favourite ever stint in the Picnic's Comedy Tent.


> Lords of Lightning BLOWING MY MIND entirely with their genuinely awesome lightning bolt performance as they duelled atop a giant Tesla coil each alongside the fire-breathing Arcadia stage. Yowza.

What the Jaysus fuck? Amazing, is what!

> Dancing my socks off in general, but particularly to Gordon Gano finishing out his set with Blister In The Sun, Public Enemy lashing out Don't Believe The Hype, Pulp treating us to Disco 2000 and pretty much all of Beirut, as I do love a bit of brass.

> The Brownbread Mixtape knocking it out of the park in Mindfield with their inspired comedy sketches (in particular the reconstruction of Amanda Brunker's already laughable appearance at Oxegen, punctuated with the YouTube comments from her video. There's really nothing like seeing the unnecessary rage of the YouTube commenter brought to life) the gorgeous poetry and music and the most rousing end to a performance that I've ever seen, in the shape of their alternative Irish anthem My Blood Is Boiling For Ireland. It mostly involves the crowd shouting "Ireland! Ireland! Ireland, FUCKIN' IRELAND" and a fantastic call and response bit as Gaeilge. Go h-ana funky ar fad.

All told, it was a typically fantastic Electric Picnic weekend...'till next year, Stradbally!

Amy Amy Amy

The first time I heard an Amy Winehouse song was when Ian Dempsey played Rehab during his breakfast-time slot for Today FM. I was living just off Anglesea Street in Cork and slowly getting my act together for work that morning in my tiny bedroom that overlooked an alleyway frequented by drunk old homeless men. I remember being genuinely amazed by the voice that came streaming out of the speakers and I'm pretty sure I did that stupid thing where you stare at the stereo as if doing so will help you hear what's coming out it that bit better. Up to that point, I was vaguely aware of Amy as a brassy, mouthy London jazz singer but had never actually heard her.


There's been a huge amount of beautifully worded tributes written about her that say everything far more eloquently than I ever could (Russell Brand's piece is particularly moving), and to be honest, I still can't quite believe what's happened. As much as I love Back To Black, I really just want to watch this video for In My Bed, from Frank, where Amy slinks around an empty hotel, all Coca-Cola bottle curves, showgirl legs and raw, spectacular talent.



Gorgeous.

Oxemorons

Well how about that. I actually went and achieved my aim of making it out of Punchestown both alive and relatively unscathed. (Save for a smattering of sunburn on my shoulders - I know, SUNBURN at an Irish festival! It's unheard of!) I genuinely wasn't sure if that would be the case after the helpful and terrifying comments on my last post and hearing that Oxegen is the only festival that the security guards are required to wear stab vests at, but we somehow pulled it off.


As I sat by the tent drinking cans with T Cup and her sister, observing the festival attendees passing through the campsite, it felt a bit like a wildlife programme. That is, if David Attenborough wore giant sunglasses and the wildlife in question consisted of drunk, half naked teenagers.

It seems that boys favour walking around with a hand down the front of their pants. Or in one case, BOTH hands. BOTH hands were actually shoved down the front of his pants as he wandered about. What the holy fuck is all that about? The less skangery variety seem to think that everyone wants to hug them, and much of the weekend was spent humouring seventeen year olds with high fives for fear of being called a cunt. The girls inexplicably appear to enjoy writing on each others arms and legs (who brings markers to a festival? WHO?) and wear denim hotpants with the mandatory two inches of ass cheek hanging out. I swear their shorts were wedged so far up their arses they must have been able to taste the frayed denim. All weekend it was wall-to-wall ass on show.

Anyway, aside from just not getting kids today, there was some most enjoyable music to be encountered, at which I found myself:

* Dancing in the Electric Ballroom while Bitches With Wolves were their usual exuberant, sparkly and ferociously fun selves, with their cover of Toca's Miracle sending the crowd into a disco frenzy.

* Catching Weezer play My Name Is Jonas and a cover of Teenage Dirtbag, at which point I sniffily decided that this crowd of kids probably thought they were actually Wheatus.

* Having Joyce Country Céilí Band lodged in my head until Tuesday after seeing The Saw Doctors.

* Coming to the conclusion that The Black Eyed Peas and Foo Fighters are actually the polar opposites of each other in terms of live performances. You see, will.i.am and his motley crew are probably the worst band on the planet, but their live show is actually sort of entertaining, thanks solely to an abundance of lasers and great visuals, even though their songs are criminally awful. Whereas Dave Grohl and the lads crank out hit after tremendous hit with inescapable charisma and enthusiasm and no reliance whatsoever on fancy light shows and as such, rock the pants right off you.

Dave can rock my pants off any time he damn well likes.

* Squawking along happily at Fight Like Apes and their typically raucous and demented set. May Kay emerged onstage dressed like a version of Morticia Addams that had decided to take up crime-fighting, with the boys in the band wrapped in technicolour morphsuits. Their performance was an obscenely fun mix of whacking giant iron bars together, the title sequence from California Dreams and a trailer for Plan 9 From Outer Space being played on the big screen and May Kay clambering onto a surprised security guard's shoulders from the stage, from where she finished belting out her song.


* Being taken completely by surprise at how much I enjoyed Beyonce. Seriously, when Twitter was set alight during her Glastonbury performance, I didn't even bother changing the channel to see what all the fuss was about, and yet there I was whooping, dancing around and singing along to the Destiny's Child medley, Crazy In Love and Single Ladies, out of my mind with happiness. I have to hand it to her, girlfriend puts on one HELL of a show.




Honourable mention must go to Tinie Tempah, Two Door Cinema Club, Swedish House Mafia, Manic Street Preachers and Coldplay (who were surprisingly fun) as well as the outdoor screening of The Life Of Brian which was exactly what we needed on Sunday morning. But not Arctic Monkeys, seeing was they were shite. So despite the surrounding knackpocalypse and being wary of everyone in the crowd in general, a great weekend was had, and yet...and yet...it's still no Electric Picnic. Which can't come soon enough.

EDIT: Completely forgot to mention that Imelda May was fantastic as ever and Slash & Friends was like watching a quite good cover band. Except for the part where Fergie Ferg joined them onstage, at which point it was more like listening to a bag of cats being swung against a wall.

This Ain't No Picnic

Earlier this week, a free ticket to Oxegen was most kindly bestowed upon me. Having never been to this particular festival, and having been spoiled by year after terrific year of solid gold fun at Electric Picnic, I find myself both scared and excited about the weekend ahead. I made the mistake of reading this article a few days ago, which served to frighten the bejaysus out of me and envision a three day stint spent as a paranoid wreck, but nevertheless to Punchestown I go.

The weather forecast is awful and I'm well aware that the surrounds will be nothing like the fairy-lit forest or rolling green hills of Stradbally. The only rolling green things I expect to encounter are discarded cans of Tuborg. Then again, with a hipflask of rum stuffed into each cherry-print welly boot, I'll make it my mission to ascertain the perfect level of fucked up and enjoy myself enough to be undeterred and unfazed by the myriad shitfaced teenagers. Also the prospect of Fight Like Apes, Bitches With Wolves, Fun Lovin' Criminals and Foo Fighters will surely make up for any amount of mud. Right?

If all else fails I can just throw things at Amanda Brunker.

Back To 1955

Oh my aching feet. Last night I, along with the Bear, T Cup, the Incredible Mulq and various others bedecked in fifties finery danced our sexy socks right off at the shoot for The Dead Flags and their ingenious Back To The Future themed video. The red and white dotty dress I wore to the Blog Awards was whipped out once again, this time with a ponytail and neck scarf to Class of '55 the bejaysus out of it.


Up until that point, I spent my long weekend pretty much offline, under the radar and armed to the teeth with scissors, glitter and paint as I was tasked with the aquatic style decoration of the venue. I found it most amusing that for someone who ticked the 'no religion' box on the census form, I spent a sizeable amount of Good Friday cutting different shapes of fish out of coloured paper. I think that between the Bear and myself, we cut out something in the region of two hundred fish, not including the bigger and be-glittered fish and seahorses that adorned the stage and pillars. It was ridiculous, but the upstairs of the Grand Social completely looked the part for the Enchantment Under The Sea dance, if I may say so myself. Here's a sneaky still from the shoot:

My banner has tidier lettering than the original, despite my initial intentions to match the movie version. When it came to painting them in though, my natural instinct to stay inside the lines took over entirely.

I'm extremely excited about seeing the final result for the video, the song itself is insanely catchy and has been rattling around my head for the last three days. Rest assured that as soon as it comes online I'll be shoving it in all of your lovely faces from every conceivable angle. In terms of the internet, anyway.

No McFlag ever amounted to anything in the history of Hill Valley

Continuing the theme of fantastic films from the eighties, I'm sure you'll all agree that Back To The Future is one of the greatest films of all time. If not, then I'm afraid things between us just aren't going to work out. Watching all three of them in one sitting is my idea of a day damn well spent. Only recently the first film was on TV, and I had switched to it just in time for the deadly Johnnie B. Goode scene at the Enchantment Under The Sea dance, which delighted me no end, as it's one of my favourite parts. In which case, you can imagine my excitement when The Dead Flags revealed that the video for their comeback single will be a recreation of THAT VERY SCENE. Get outta town!

So, to pull off this most epic of tasks, they require people all dressed up in 1950s style finery to twist and shout for an hour or two in The Grand Social next Tuesday, 26th of April. I for one am chomping at the bit to get myself into my polka dot dress and high school ponytail for it.


The occasion calls for circle skirts, pearls, bobby socks, layers of tulle, corsages and dainty neck scarves for the ladies, and blazers, skinny ties and quiffs for the boys.

They just weren't ready for it yet, the moody bastards. But their kids are going to love it.

So throw together an outfit not unlike the ones worn by the Hill Valley posse above and get yo' sexy ass over to The Grand Social next Tuesday. Details on Facebook here. Be there or be square.