When I was growing up in suburban Melbourne, the house constantly reverberated with the beat of drums. Successive teen rock bands formed, stormed and performed before either breaking up or branching out. The audience was strictly post-punk-rock adolescents, except for my parents who would shout at us either ‘food!’ or ‘turn it down!’, depending on their mood.
In memory of those ear-splittingly halycon days I dragged this little drum stool home from the tip and gave it a face lift. Right after that I started playing air guitar. Enough said.