Archive for the ‘Sam’s Male Bag’ Category

Sam’s Male Bag: Witness The Fitness

Friday, March 15th, 2013

Greeting Ladies and Genitals! Time again to dig into Sam’s Male Bag. This week’s letter doesn’t have anything to do with music really, unless you wanna go into some snoozy discourse about body image in popular culture. I certainly don’t. I just wanna finish this off so I can get back to eating pickles and watching Foxsports news. Our troubled soul this time is a gent called Bongo. Obviously some kind of Beatnik.

Hello Sam.

I’m keen to lose weight (for my lady) but maintain my Herculean intake of Golden Ale, red wine and triple brie.

You seem to be doing well without more than a day in the nets or on the field every week.

How do you do it?


What can I say Bongo, old bean? Some folks got it, some folks ain’t!

So what’s your problem? Can’t get a gig? Don’t know what to get pierced? Send all your musical questions to and he’ll tell you exactly what you should do in every possible situation.

Sam’s Male Bag: Guilty Pleasures

Tuesday, February 12th, 2013

I have been sitting here patiently for months waiting for some letters to come in.  I thought maybe my work here was done. You guys were on the right track at last. Well, I couldn’t have been more wrong. I received a disturbing letter today from April Jones-Smith of Munster. Nice surname, by the way, April.  Obviously preserving a rich family history there. What a momentous day it must have been when those two lineages were joined forever by a hyphen! There hasn’t been a more dramatic pairing since Soccer met Moms. You honestly couldn’t expect anyone to choose just one.

Anyways, April writes:

Dear Sam,

My friends think my taste in music is absolutely unassailable. I read Pitchfork and agree with their reviews, right down to the decimal places. I buy vinyl, even though I don’t have a turntable. I prefer the Dee Dee Dums to Tame Impala. I’m white and I own Enter the Wu-Tang.

Lately, however, I find myself enjoying music that is neither unpopular, nor blogosphere approved. How do I keep these “guilty pleasures” from my friends so I don’t lose cred?

Yours sincerely,


I don’t know who started this “guilty pleasures” bullshit but god– it is some boring shit. It’s like that thing where people constantly refer to something as that thing. Or when adults refer to one another as “naughty” for eating a Snickers.

It’s not just a dull, overused phrase, it’s also a total puss-out.

“Sure, I like Phil Collins. It’s a guilty pleasure.”

Translation: “Sure, I’m aware this artist is uncool. I am still cool though. I call GP immunity.”

Number one, there is nothing less cool than trying too hard to be cool.

And two, what do you have to feel guilty about? You like a song? Have you told a priest? Nobody gives a shit what you like. Masturbating at funerals– that’s something you should feel bad about. It’s just as tiresome to hear about the artists you’re willing to go public with your affection for, as it is to hear about the ones you “secretly” like.

I put secretly in quotation marks, ‘cause people sure love to crap on about these songs and artists they’re supposed to be ashamed of liking. If you’re so embarrassed, why not keep it to yourself? Because you think having these taste blind spots makes you a rare, magnificent orchid that only blooms once a century? Well, it don’t. It’s also pretty fucking lame to base so much of your identity on how you choose to be entertained.

Now, you may be getting the idea that my advice is to JUST BE YOURSELF and if they were really your friends THEY WOULDN’T CARE about stuff like that. Let me disabuse you of that notion. If you like shitty music, you deserve to be made fun of. You don’t get a pass for calling it a “guilty pleasure”. You’re just having a bet each way. On the other hand, there’s nothing wrong with liking music that people think is dated or dorky, just don’t hide behind irony. It’s not that fuckin’ important.

Right, that’s it for this round folks. I gotta go fart on a baby. It makes me feel good and bad at the same time. Bye.

So what’s your problem? Don’t know L.A.M.F from LMFAO? Are you a man who wears his hair in a bun? A French backpacker? Send all your musical questions to and he’ll tell you exactly what you should do in every possible situation.

Sam’s Male Bag: Is My Relationship Doomed?

Friday, September 14th, 2012

Maverick. Mystic. Miscreant. These are all adjectives. Sam Scherr is two proper nouns. His involvement in the Perth music scene has spanned two centuries, but it feels like way longer.

Alright gang, it’s sacktime again. I’m gonna solve the problems you can’t solve yourself because the Facebook and iTunes have turned your minds to mush and you can no longer function in society. Though I suspect that even without these modern developments many of you would still struggle. I’ve got a letter from an ‘RG’ here who is facing some obstacles in his love life. Well, I’m gonna assume ‘RG’ is a dude, but I’m not 100% positive ‘cause ‘RG’ could stand for anything. He also didn’t say where he was from, which is a bit disappointing since I like makin’ fun of where people live. That said, if I had to make an educated guess as to where RG resides, I’d bet on Joondalup. You’ll see why. Here’s his letter:

My fiancee and I never agree on music. She likes the Stones, I like the Beatles. She likes Blur, I like Oasis. Is it really all about “what you like, not what you’re like”? Is our relationship doomed? Help!

– RG

Boy, oh boy. We got ourselves a regular Sid and Nancy, don’t we? I feel sorry for the cops who must get called out week after week to pick up the pieces after the slight differences of opinion that go on between these two. I’m desperate to know their thoughts on which way they put the toilet paper on the holder.

RG, that can’t be a dealbreaker, unless the two of you are totally insane. Musical taste can indeed drive a wedge between people, but it’s gotta be something way more serious than just preferring one band to another. It has to be one of the following nightmare scenarios. You would be perfectly within your rights to immediately end all contact with someone and get a tattoo that says ‘regret’ or some bullshit in Arabic if they commit any of these crimes against reason:

1. They say shit like, “I think Bob Dylan is a really great songwriter but I just don’t like his voice.”

This person is an idiot. They probably like to buy clothes in places that have an in-store DJ. Take a powder. Do not leave a forwarding address.

2. They like Grinspoon.

How is this even possible? Sure, taste is subjective and everyone has their own perspective, but forming a positive opinion of these musical fartmongers can only be the result of brain damage from excessive off-brand energy drink consumption. Slip the fuck out the back, Jack.

3. You’re a Juggalo, she’s a Maggot.

I know you think you’re on some beautiful white trash Romeo and Juliet tip, but this can’t work. Maybe, in some futuristic Utopia people will accept this forbidden love. Not now. Please continue to cover your disgusting faces though, be it with a mask or makeup.

4. They use the word ‘funky’ to describe things that are in no way funky.

The only acceptable uses of this term are to describe either a mildly unpleasant odour or music which is, yes, funky. A chair cannot be funky. Wallpaper is not funky. Cutesy little ye olde shoppes that sell candles and other assorted garbage are funky, but only because they stink. If you happen to be dating George Clinton or Bootsy Collins, you can disregard this rule because I’m pretty sure those dudes have forgotten all other adjectives.

I could go on, RG, but I won’t. The point is you don’t really have a problem. What you and your fiancée have is a conversation starter. Do I think your relationship is doomed? Of course it is, but it won’t be anything to do with Noel saying he wished Damon would catch AIDS. I also don’t think you should get married, but that’s because I’m a god-hating, terrorist-enabling, enemy of the traditional family and I believe that only gays should be allowed to get married.

So what’s your problem? Girlfriend started a band that was instantly more successful than yours? You’re a busker? Send all your musical questions to and he’ll tell you exactly what you should do in every possible situation.

Sam’s Male Bag: “Should I Give Up Playing The Bass”

Tuesday, July 31st, 2012

Paul SimononWell, this column is really gathering a head of steam now.  It’s up to the third edition and the questions keep rolling in.  The first one this week comes from a gent by the name of Billy Fart. Like a true punk, he has decided to just post his enquiry in the comments rather than email it in as requested. Ian Mackaye would be proud of his DIY attitude and grass roots approach which seeks to breakdown the barrier between the artist (that’s me) and the audience (that’s you people). I, on the other hand, am not into that bullshit.  Billy writes:

Dear Sam,
I used to play bass in a band when I was younger, inspired by Paul Simonon. Unfortunately, I was crap. Now I am old and still crap at the bass. Do you think I should continue playing or give up and take up gardening or fruit pickling? Would appreciate your advice.

I dunno, Billy. If you can’t master the bass guitar, I’d say you’d probably have a rough time diggin’ holes and spreadin’ shit around.  And if I’m not mistaken, fruit pickling is what killed Jaco Pastorius. You should probably pack it in. Perhaps you could do what Bill Wyman does and shlep through the English countryside with a metal detector looking for Ancient Roman coins. You need them because Ancient Roman deli-owners, like their modern day descendants, rarely provide EFTPOS facilities.

One more thing, and to be honest it’s not really advice, it’s more of a criticism.

Though there is a fine tradition in popular music of stealing stuff from poor black people, taking this guy’s name for your punk rock nom de guerre is just crossing a line.

The second question this week is brief and to the point.

Dear Sam,

Just what the hell is Skiffle?

Jayden Boot,


Don’t worry, Jayden. I’ve checked and there is actually no such thing as Skiffle.

So what’s your problem? Don’t know the difference between GaGa, The Go-Gos, Go-Go and the GooGoo Dolls? Can’t find a cardigan that’s gangsta enough? Send all your musical questions to and he’ll tell you exactly what you should do in every possible situation.