The song Northcote (So Hungover) had its origins as a sketch I wrote for Channel 10 comedy show The Ronnie Johns Good Times Campfire Jamboree Half Hour Show (Now on Television) in 2005-2006. I guess it was depicted to be takin’ the piss out of the emo / punk scene – about three years before the ‘hipster’ thing blew up.  

Here are some original scripts from the recurring Underground characters. None of them were filmed in their entirety, but mostly chopped up (by Chopper ha ha) and cut in with other writer’s contributions. 


F: How’s your band?
J: We just got signed.
F: That’s a bit mainstream.
J: No, I mean signed by the audience, everyone at our last gig stuck their fingers up at us.
F: Tough crowd. We got signed too, but we’re totally independent.
J: No label, keeping it real.
F: No, the record label is called Independent records, it’s an off-shoot of Sony.
J: Oh. What’s your deal?
F: We have to make an album every fifteen years, plus we get clothing sponsorships, rage guest programming rights, a skill-tester filled with cigarettes and a packet of 10 000 mixed Myspace friends.
J: You’ve sold out.
F: But we have total creative control.
J: No I mean your t-shirts, I tried to order a men’s medium but they were out. So what are you called?
F: Finding Emo.
J: I don’t get it.
F: Exactly. So how’s your album coming along?
J: Okay, we’ve laid down some tracks.
F: What kind of sound?
J: No, I mean actual tracks. We’re all working for Cityrail to pay off the studio hire.
F: Right. What’s the album called?
J: B-sides, c-sides d-sides and rarities. It’s a greatest hits concept EP.
F: What’s the concept?
J: It’s a secret album. Every track is a secret track recorded in a special frequency that only dogs can hear.
F: Are you worried about people burning it?
J: No, we’ll have copy control.
F: I meant in a fire. Hey, we’re having a launch next week, you should come along.
J: Yeah, whereabouts?
F: The local army airbase. They’re going to do a test launch aimed at North Korea.
J: Overseas market, cool. Hey, did I mention we just picked up a grant?
F: Well done.
J: Yeah, Grant Taylor, our bass player. We literally picked him up from the side of the road, he was passed out.
F: Yeah right, did you have to deal with an agent?
J: Yeah, Demestos mainly, he was in pretty bad shape. Maybe I could support you sometime?
F: Your band?
J: No I mean emotionally, make you cups of tea, rub your feet, listen to you grumble.
F: You’re not really my genre of person. Plus, I’m kind of going out with my music career.
J: Are you defacto?
F: Yeah, but Centrelink don’t know.
J: Okay. See you.
F: I guess.
J: Whatever.
F: Whatever is passé.
J: Oh, um, whatever two?
F: I guess.


J: Sorry I couldn’t make it to your gig.
F: Were you busy?
J: No, I just didn’t want to go.
F: That’s pretty rock. We rocked out. We smashed up our gear afterwards.
J: Oh, that’s pretty rock, does your record company supply you with new equipment.
F: No, we’ll probably move into spoken word now.
J: Hmm, that’s not so rock. Yeah we did a gig the other night where we smashed up the band room. We tried to glue the couch to the roof.
F: Did it work?
J: No, we only had clag.
F: Still, pretty rock. Did I mention we smashed up our hotel afterwards. We threw the bed out the window.
J: Gee what happened?
F: The inner coils kicked in and it bounced back up.
J: That’s pretty rock. Well we got kicked out of our hotel for smashing it up, and then went back to my house and smashed that up.
F: Gee, what happened.
J: Mum woke up, so we glued her to the roof.
F: That’s way rock. After we got kicked out we smashed up the street. Our drummer borrowed a crane and wrecking ball.
J: That’s rock. Did you hear how we smashed up the city?
F: No.
J: Dave our guitarist borrowed his uncle’s F-14 hornet Jet and we carpet bombed the place, then glued the jet to a skyscraper.
F: Pretty rock. We were planning to smash up the southern hemisphere.
J: Really?
F: Yeah my cousin is a scientist and has a home-made atomic bomb.
J: Right, did it work?
F: No, it was a dud.
J: Pretty rock.
F: Yeah that’s all it was. A rock.


F: Hey.
J: Whatever.
F: Do you want to form a band?
J: Yeah okay.
F: Right, you’re out of the band.
J: Already, why?
F: Creative differences.
J: But I didn’t say anything.
F: It’s your look, it’s not right.
J: I can change.
F: Okay, put on these. (She pulls out sunglasses. J puts them on)
J: Is that better?
F: Yeah, you’re back in the band.
J: Fine. I quit.
F: Why?
J: I think with this new look I can have a solo career.
F: Good luck with that. Sunglasses are passé. (She takes hers off)
J: Oh. Can I be back in your band?
F: Fine, but we don’t wear sunglasses anymore.
J: Okay (he takes them off. Flick puts hers back on) What are you doing?
F: I’m being ironic, on purpose – that’s cool.
J: Right (he puts his back on), well you’re out of the band.
F: You can’t fire me.
J: Why not?
F: (She takes her glasses off) I already quit.
J: (He takes his glasses off) This is stupid.
(F takes out a country hat and puts it on.)
J: What are you doing?
F: Hats are the new sunglasses.
J: Do I get a hat?
F: No.
J: Good, I don’t want one.
(F takes her hat off.)
F: I’m quitting my solo career. I’m going to form a band.
J: Oh, can I be in it.
F: No.
J: Good. Bye.
F: Apparently.