In his opening speech, Mark Butcher looked out from under his cap into a darkened ACMI auditorium filled with an exceptionally MIFF-esque crowd, and told us the reason this film existed was because Melbourne desperately needed a rockumentary. And because of this glaring need, Mark was encouraged by the music industry, bands and radio crews.

Mark Butcher is a first time film-maker with no previous experience and it shows. The only tangible structure in Sticky Carpet is a chronology of comments the interviewees give a hidden interviewer. The film is haphazardly shot in parts’some gig footage goes on way too long and the editing reflects a newcomer going crazy overlapping images and changing focus.

Strings of Melbourne landscapes are included, but put together without much thought for their relationship to the music scene. I appreciated the archival images of Melbourne artists leaving formality behind’there’s Fred Negro from I Spit On Your Gravy rooting a BBQ chicken on stage, The Sailors announcing in singalong fashion that they’re gonna ‘punch your arse with the fist of my cock’, and Rod Cooper demonstrating his intriguing, otherworldly homemade instruments.

On the flip side, the questions asked of the interviewees inspire impassioned responses and cover issues about going mainstream, losing creative control, the insincerity of popular music; the debate about what constitutes a ‘real’ punk ethos; the problems women face in the industry; and touring insights.

Sticky Carpet is rough and wearing on the patience in parts, but you will probably never see such a unique combination of Melbourne’s live music images anywhere else.