[While trawling the web to find the Doctor Rock logo (a masterpiece of graphic design), I came across this. It's the bio written for the second Doctor Rock website.
Perhaps the way it is written hints at a secret longing to do interviews. Doctor Rock only ever did one, with the same five preprepared questions the magazine put to every new band. The only thing I remember from it was that Scrappy claimed our name came from the fact that it was an anagram of 'C Dork Root'.
This is the worst bio I have ever read, and after five years of music journalism, I feel I am in a position to truly judge that. If I were a booker, I would not only refuse to book the band, but probably also set the bio on fire.]
Dr Rock Q And A Session
Q: So, this is the new Doctor Rock bio?
A: Yes, that’s right.
Q: And this is the “wacky” style you guys are using this time?
A: Yes. We feel we have a history of wackiness in bios to live up to. I realise that your use of the word “wacky” had a certain touch of sarcasm to it, but I honestly believe that our previous efforts have been, if not exactly wacky, then at least unconventional.
Q: Would you care to elaborate on that?
A: Well, our first bio was written in fairy tale style, and was two A4 pages long, in size 8 font. It can still be found somewhere on our web page, at drrock.stormloader.com. We have also done bios in diary style, in HTML and JavaScript formatting, and of course, then there are the ones that we’ve written while drunk.
Q: So you’re not drunk now?
A: No, actually, this is to replace the one we wrote a few days ago while drunk. It was shit. We were kind of surprised. But, no, I’m not drunk at all. I’m actually in my room. It’s a Thursday.
Q: This would probably also be the first bio written in first person, right?
A: I believe so, yes.
Q: And you are?
A: Oh, right, I guess I should have gotten to that earlier. I’m Ptism, the bass player, and sometime singer.
Q: And the other members?
A: Watch the fragmented sentences. Grammar is underrated in today’s society, I believe. I mean, look at SMS for example. I cannot abide people who use abbreviations like “U” for the word “you”, and, more importantly, I cannot abide the use of incorrect punctuation. Even worse is when no punctuation at all is used. And, yes, I realise the irony in the fact that that was a fragmented sentence.
Q: You’re digressing quite severely.
A: Sorry. I know. Well, there’s Mick, who is our drummer. He works as a hairdresser in Ballarat. He’s probably the best drummer we could have ever hoped for. Maybe that’s a kinda weak compliment when you actually think about it, but he really is. Then there’s Matt, who’s our singer, and sometime bass player. He works at Safeway in Ballarat. Notice that I’m using people’s job’s to define who they are, personality wise? I don’t think the world should work that way, but it does. Anyway, Matt, he’s an ace singer, he really is. He can do some amazing things with his voice, not the least of which being he can sometimes sound like Axl Rose. We also have Scrappy, who plays keyboards and organ. He works with me, at Living Fabric in Oakleigh, which is a fabric wholesaler. Scrappy is a classically trained pianist, who learnt for seven years, or maybe more. He’s like a grade 6 or something, which is pretty fucking good. Last, and arguably least, is Clemo, who works at Safeway in Newmarket. Actually, he’s not the least - he’s quite a good guitarist. He should be - he practices for like two hours a day.
Q: So, you guys are pretty good then?
A: I didn’t say that.
Q: But…
A: No, it’s kind of a case of the whole being less than the sum of its parts.
Q: Oh.
A: Well, we’re good with gimmicks.
Q: Yeah, I hear you wear dresses a lot.
A: That’s such bullshit. Who told you that?
Q: Spagger; the bouncer from the Bridge Mall Inn.
A: Christ - for the last time, I’ve worn a dress like twice. Ever.
Q: Anyway. You guys have a CD out, right?
A: Hey, yeah, that’s right. It’s called ‘More Ways To Have Fun!!’ and it has five tracks, one of which I sing on, and four of which Matt sings on. We recorded it for only $46.
Q: That doesn’t sound promising.
A: No, I can see now how it probably wouldn’t. Ignore that thing about recording costs then.
Q: No, I mean the fact that you’ve named the CD after a Tatts Pokies advertising slogan.
A: Err. Yeah. There is that, I guess.
Q: So do you have any bragging stories about the big names you’ve played with, or the massive gigs you’ve headlined, mainly because your friends organised them?
A: What, you mean apart from the wicked gig we played at Ballarat’s Central Square Chopping Centre? That was a highlight of our career, in my opinion. Well, until we got asked to half the volume of our instruments after two songs. Mick had to start playing with his hands. Oh, and then we got booted out after another two for being too loud still - while the drummer was still playing with his hands! Shopping centres eh? Anyway, we’ve played with Area 7, and the Testeagles, oh, oh, and Stormfront. And Klinger - they were nice to us, and actually watched our set. I’d whinge about the awful life of a supporting band - ignored by the headliners! Oh, the horror! - but you’ve probably heard enough of that already, and let’s face it; we pretty much bring it upon ourselves.
Q: What - you bring the role of a supporting band upon yourselves?
A: Well, would you come and see us headline?
Q: Um…I wanted to at that gig you did actually headline, but there were other things on that night - things with free beer on entry.
A: That’s my point.
Q: I’d have no problem watching you guys if you were supporting a band I liked.
A: I appreciate that.
Q: Why are you writing the bio, Ptism?
A: Because I’m the Official Bio Writer.
Q: Who says?
A: Scrappy.
Q: So?
A: He’s the Official Delegation Delegater.
Q: That’s…truly great. Really. So what do you sound like, anyway?
A: Oh man, I knew this question was coming up. Look, I don’t really have an answer for this. We sound like Doctor Rock. Some people like to use the words “filth”, “cradle” and “of” - not necessarily in that order - but I don’t get it myself. For one, I’m too nasal a singer to do anything brooding, or even serious, now that I think of it. And plus, metal bands of that ilk have better keyboard tones than us, and they’re less geeky. Didn’t I give you a CD to listen to? Isn’t that the point of me giving you a CD?
Q: Probably, but…
A: But nothing. Make up your own mind. And before you say it, I’m aware that that was a fragment.
Q: I like the fact that you’re bringing the bio full circle. Is this an indication that we’re almost finished?
A: Yes. The thousand-word mark is fast approaching. That is, unless you have anything else to ask.
Q: Well, do you feel you’ve achieved everything you wanted in these three pages?
A: No, no, not at all. I can’t imagine what anyone reading this would possibly be thinking. Can I just add at this point how much I truly hate Rove?
Q: You’re watching Rove?
A: Yes.
Q: I thought it was a Thursday? Why is Rove on?
A: Actually, it’s not a Tuesday. It’s taken me six days, on and off, to write this thing. I have excuses though, you know, I went to Ballarat to see Matt and Mick, and I’ve been playing Final Fantasy VI every time I get on this computer. Not that I’m a hopeless geek.
Q: Um, right. What about your contact details?
A: [insert appropriate details here]
Q: Thanks. So are you guys real doctors?
A: That question only gets funnier each time I hear it.
Q: Ptism, you still don’t how to end a bio, do you?
A: No.
