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fatlaces

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fatlaces last won the day on September 14 2014

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About fatlaces

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  1. fatlaces

    >>> - SYDNEY - NSW - AUSTRALIA - <<<

    Since we're on the old school buzz heres some instagram goodstuff... all off the one account not sure if i should post up here,..
  2. fatlaces

    >>> - SYDNEY - NSW - AUSTRALIA - <<<

    Bagl interview on MTN blog http://mtnaustralia.com.au/blog/ G’day Bagl! Thanks for taking the time to chat. What’s been happening? Yo man. No problems, thanks for having me. Just been trying to keep up with day to day life at the moment. Got a couple personal and business projects on, so trying my best to get them done! Get us started with the essentials, where do you call home, what crews do you rep, and how did you come to be known as Bagl? Raised in East Sydney and I write with the HKL and FKCS crews. I came up with the word ‘Bagl’ myself back in 2007. Originally I spelt it ‘BAIGLES’ and it was derived from the doughnut looking pastry thing. After a couple pieces I dropped a couple letters for ease and eventually ended up being just ‘Bagl’. I also write ‘Blunt’ on occasions just to switch it up. Now your crews, HKL and FKCS, tell us a bit about them and how you became a part of them? Me and my homie ‘Astro’ started HKL back on ’07 when we were still only fresh to the scene, tagging the back of buses and shit. Everyone back then had there own little crew so we decided to make our own. Its original meaning was ‘Hoes Kash Liqour’ and ‘Hard Knock Life’ and now has up to 16 members. Growing up in the East back then i always looked up to FKCS (FEW KEWL CATS) writers such as Locker, Driks, Meta4, Poets, Fix, Dast and Keans to name a few, and soon enough I ended up painting with a few of them. Then in 2010 ‘Locker’ asked me if i wanted to write for the crew, and since then those two have been the only 2 crews I rep and always will. BGL1Do you have strict constraints on style within these crews? Or is it just a case of each member bringing their best to the table? I personally consider my crew members my good mates. Everyone in my crew is in their because I call them a friend and not for their graffiti capabilities. This is something I learnt over time. Everyone in my crew has their own style, we all share a love for graffiti and do our best when there out there painting and I think thats what matters. Considering the caliber of your work and your consistency, you seem (no offence intended) not to be as well known, even though you’re painting as often or more than the big names out there, and rocking pieces of the same standard or better. Why do you think that is? Do you think this is changing now? No offence taken at all man. I do feel a little underrated at times i guess, but that’s no one else fault but own. You only get out what you put in. I know what I’ve accomplished myself and I know what I’m capable of. Im not too fussed about being the biggest name in the game, Im just going to do what I feel like doing, and hopefully people enjoy the work as much as I did doing it. Your style has familiar elements of a classic Sydney style, but with your own swing and flavour, very recognisable as your own. How did this style develop? Were there any writers who you looked up to when you started painting? My style has changed so may times over the years its crazy. I’ve gone from really simple big bubbly letters to a chunky sort of public style with big connections and add-ons and everything in between. At the moment I have a couple different styles I like to paint depending on what I’m running at. I found one of my biggest influences on my style was my good friend and crew member ‘Jebs’ HKL KGB. When I first starting painting with him back in 2010 – 2011 I always felt a little behind the 8 ball next to him, so i was always striving to keep up. He still to this day is a big influence on my style. Growing up around my area I always looked up to writers I used to see up around the hood like ‘Avoid’, ‘Giels’, ‘Sbak’, ‘Skills, ‘Keans’, ‘Akers’ and ‘Vizer’ and crews like IM, KOC, AYTO, ABK, CK as well as my FKCS boys. Also writers like ‘Mach KGB’, ‘Freak KGB’, Banos, ‘Sofles DTS’, ‘Seiko DTS’, ‘Urge DTS, ‘Deft TKP’, ‘Ayres TKP’, ‘Slor BNF’, ‘Reals WTCS’, ‘Pudl BCF’, ‘Set BCF, ‘Siks TSC’, ‘Pact PLS’, ‘Zombe OSF’, ‘Bones KOS, ‘Arems MOC’, ‘Phibs’, ‘Days DCA’, ‘Kaue EK’, ‘Revok MSK’ and ‘Rime MSK’ to name a few, where also writers who I really admired and still do. BGL2Do you find it difficult to find a balance between graff and the rest of your life? For sure man! Painting regularly is a full time job. Painting trains on the reg is even more hectic. Nowadays I’m just trying to fit in a piece here and there, but sometimes I’ll get the urge to get out there and have a crack at something. I feel if you really want to stay on top of this game you have to live, eat, shit and breathe it, otherwise you’ll barely stay afloat, and theres a lot of dudes that do that. Much respect to those out there that have dedicated there entire lives to this. I feel I’m just trying to keep up, but I’ll always have mad love for it. I’ll never leave it alone. We’ve all heard a decent chase story, or of a time things just haven’t gone quite right in the yard, have you ever been in a situation like this? Do tell… First time I’ve ever tried to do a panel solo. I made my approach to the idle train with no problems. Hiding in a bush I scoped out the train from a distance for while. All was looking good to go so I made my way over to the train. I set my camera up and began to paint. I painted for about 6 or 7 minutes uninterrupted besides the frequent hissing from the locomotive which already had me on edge. Just as I started my outline I hear the rumble from a train passing behind me. Surely that I had been spotted by the driver of the fly-through that just passed I tried to pump the rest of my outline and shadow as quickly as possible. Before I could finish I hear yelling from a fluro next to me telling me to “get a life” or some shit. I decided to abandon my unfinished panel so I packed up my kit, grabbed my camera and made my escape. On the way out I ran into an unknown group of people on the tracks in the distance that i would have to pass to make my way out. I noticed a timely passing train approaching so I crossed tracks and ran alongside it and dodged the crowd completely. As I made my way back onto the street already exhausted from a long run, I began to make my way to the car. As i crossed the road I looked to my side and to my surprise I seen two of the ugliest police officers pacing towards me about 20 metres away. Hoping they weren’t for me I kept walking across the road until i hear one of them yell ‘STOP POLICE!’. I thought ‘ Fuck that!’ and took off running down the street. As the thump of police boots pursued me I hear one of the police radio in they have spotted a suspect. Making my way down backstreets I eventually jumped into a front yard of a house. Surely that they seen me jump into the house I frantically tried to find somewhere to hide or escape too. I quickly found out that i was stuck in a dead end, i was trapped. With the dogs surely closing in I was ready to surrender, until i noticed some window grills forming a perfect ladder to the roof. I brushed my bag of paint and quickly climbed on to the roof. As soon as i got onto of the roof I curled up in a ball and waited as the sound of radios buzzed and the barking of police dogs barked around me. Surprisingly no one saw me climb up there. After 3 hours or so, the commotion was long gone and i made my decent back to the street and cautiously ran back to the car. Another close call and another unfinished panel :( BGL3We do a little thing called ‘Top 3′, where we pitch something at you and you hit back with your Top 3 of whatever that may be. Time to spill the beans… Songs of all time: 1. 93′ till Infinity – Souls of Mischeif 2. Jay Z – Public Service Announcement 3. Work (Remix) – A$AP Ferg ft. A$AP Rocky, Trinidad James, French Montana, ScHoolboy Q Australian Writers: 1. Skew TCB 2. Bones KOS 3. Machine KGB Overseas Writers: 1. Revok MSK 2. Kuma 3. Dart ENC Movie Characters: 1. Batman 2. The old man from Up 3. Borat Must have things when out painting: 1. Paint 2. Gloves 3. Camera Cities: 1. Barcelona 2. Paris 3. Melbourne Beverages: 1. Peach Iced tea 2. Homebrand apple juice 3. Aloe Vera drink Letters of the Alphabet: 1. F 2. T 3. P BGL4 BGL5Quantity or quality? I personally think you gotta have a bit of balance when it come to this. Both sides are just as important as the other. If you weren’t involved in graffiti, what would you be doing with yourself? Without graffiti i honestly wouldn’t have a clue where I’d be. I don’t think anywhere good. Graffiti has given me so much opportunity in life its crazy. Ive met some of my best friends through this and so many other good people as well as a lot of good life lessons. Who would of thought writing a name on stuff with some paint could effect someones life so much. I owe my life to the can, its made me who i am today. Ill always be grateful for that! Do you find yourself to be one of those guys than agonises over colour schemes? Or do they just come naturally? Usually when I go to the paint shop I pick my colours on the spot. I never really have a plan unless i have a colour scheme in mind i really want to paint. I don’t really fuss too much over colours, they usually work themselves out. BGL6Similarly, do you sketch a lot and spend time shaping your letters? Or just freestyle it? Same with picking colours man its all very touch-and-go with me. Sometimes ill have a bit of an idea in my head of what I want to draw but I usually just let myself go and see where it takes me. When it comes to stocking that green bag, what’s your favourite paint? And why? My ideal kit would be MTN Hardcores for fills, background and infills for its quick coverage and gloss finish. and MTN 94 for outline, highlights, lo-lights and aura for its low pressure and crisp lines. This might sound like an MTN ad but it really is my choice of paint. Top colour range, always reliable and smells great :) Let’s wrap this up… final words or shout outs? Big shouts to the HKLAN! Astro, Lazy, Raels, Fogs, Locker, Dime, AL, Saliva, Snail, Yeal, Onets, Funds, Jebs, Valet, Keans and Lkid. Shoutout to the Few Kewl CatS and AYTO boys. Thanks to my Mum for putting up with my bullshit over the years. Shouts to everyone who I’ve painted with over my graffiti career and everyone who supports my work! Thanks to MTN Australia for the opportunity and to do this and a big thank you to everyone who took the time to read this! Much Love!! Thanks for your time Bagl, much appreciated! Keep killing it! more picso n the link
  3. fatlaces

    >>> - SYDNEY - NSW - AUSTRALIA - <<<

    ^^^ Damn that is indeed a shame RIP he really did kill it in the late 90's early 2000s.
  4. fatlaces

    >>> - SYDNEY - NSW - AUSTRALIA - <<<

    Anybody heard about/seen this? http://www.lukeskennedy.com.au/stabbed-ego/ Extract: Graffiti Gang leader writes Tell-All Memoir The train was unmanned. With its lights standing out against the black night, the monstrous machine appeared weightless, as if floating on air. I was eager to rush at the angelic beast and commence my first panel, but Snap hadn’t yet turned up and there was no way I’d paint without him. Anyway, it wasn’t late enough. Trains were still running, which meant passing drivers would witness our barrage. The crunching sound of footsteps on the tracks snapped us out of our mesmerised state. We ducked down to avoid a possible sniper. Damn! Security! I thought. We raised our heads slowly. Three guys with backpacks were walking down the tracks. ‘Other writers!’ The five of us crept over, keeping our heads down the whole way. My back ached from the full bag of paint I was carrying. The others watched us approach. We faced each other in a circle like businessmen in a boardroom about to start a meeting. Moments like these were dramatic. We never knew if those standing before us were friend or enemy. Only when we heard what they wrote did we know whether we were in for a hand shake or an explosive attack. ‘What do you boys write?’ Kon said in an arrogant tone, trying to sound bigger than he was. One man spoke confidently in a deep voice that wasn’t fake. Then, like a rehearsed choir, each member of the group spoke one after the other, informing us of their tags: Bunk, Mone and Pins. These three men were big-time, quality writers who I’d respected since I started, genius painters who I’d followed by searching for their pieces on walls and in magazines. I’m about to do a panel with legends, I thought. I smiled and was about to shake their hands when I noticed Kon hadn’t responded. Instead, he slowly reached into his backpack and pulled out a pair of scissors. ‘Do you know my brother, Billz?’ he screamed. Like a sprinter hearing the starter’s gun, one of the other men leapt towards him. These writers had a beef with Billz. The scene had instantly switched from a quiet little huddle to an explosive melee. As the man rushed at Kon, one of our boys met him mid-air with a track rock to the face, forcing his surge to be deflected. Kon attacked another, holding him in a headlock and stabbing him repeatedly in the head with the scissors. That was the thing about Kon. Mostly, he was a cool, jovial guy. On these occasions, though, there was no way of talking him round. He’d want blood, and most times he got it. When his temper cracked, all sensible thought processes vanished and he had no regard for human life. His ego’s hold on him was stronger than that of anyone I knew, and it often forced him to do unforgivable things. He was notorious for stabbing people. I guess he had attached this label to himself and it had become a part of him. If he didn’t live up to these expectations of who he was, what was he? The truth was, though, until he could be free of such labels, he would never be at peace. Track rocks, fists and scissors were flying everywhere. ‘This is the wrong place for this,’ I heard one of the other guys yell. He was right. But backing up the boys was our first priority, and that’s what made us different from other crews. There was an unmanned train there for the taking, but so was the fight. The other writers were outnumbered and soon retreated. After giving a short chase, we decided to leave as well. The noise from the brawl would have raised the alarm. Back at Kon’s house, we were pumped up, reliving what just happened. Though we didn’t get to paint, the story was worth a thousand panels, I figured. My phone rang. It was Snap. ‘Where are you? I’m at the train,’ he whispered. I told him about the fight and he sounded disappointed. ‘Stay there. We’re coming,’ I said. Only Base and I went back. Neither of us was going to let a brawl, the possible return of our enemy or the arrival of police ruin our chances of our first panel. I didn’t want to let Snap down, either. He’d been looking after Base and me. We were his boys. I wanted to paint that train with him. Snap was there, accompanied by a few other boys from RM. We gave them a quick rundown on what happened. That made them suspicious of the lack of activity around the helplessly innocent train. We watched it for another twenty minutes looking for any movement, but it was dead still. ‘It’s sweet,’ one of the RM boys finally announced. He stood and walked confidently towards the train. He was a veteran train painter. Now he told us what to do. ‘Stick to the first three cars. The rest of the train has too much light on it.’ We all moved into position. I was used to standing on a platform next to a train. Now I was standing on the track, and the train towered over me. I leaned on it to get my footing. Its massive steel shell was as cold as ice. It sat, as it awaited its blanket of paint. The night was still and silent, the air crisp and fresh. There was the sound of hissing snakes as the chemical-smelling paint fumes filled our surroundings. My hands were shaking. I looked to my left to see all the boys working intently at their showpiece. To a writer, the sensation of seeing your boys panelling was unmatched. Later we would have discussions about panelling being better than sex. I’d only had sex once and it hadn’t been a memorable experience so I had to agree that train painting was better. My first spray onto a train was thick and green. It covered the Tangara’s silver section like a long-lost child reunited with its parents. The paint held onto to the steel, hugging it, as if it knew that this was where it was meant to be. With every spray I moved closer towards completion of my first panel, and I suddenly realised what all the hype was about. Painting gave me a sense of stillness, a quiet mind. The world could have been ending around me and I wouldn’t have had a clue. I wasn’t thinking about anything besides that moment. ‘Hzzzzzz.’ The train’s brakes let out a sudden rush of air. I freaked out and jumped back a few metres. Snap giggled. ‘Don’t worry. It happened to me the first few times. You’ll get used to it.’ Get used to it? This I could definitely get used to! I thought. We finished two panels each, then stood back to marvel at our work. ‘Damn that’s nice, Snap. It’s a burner!’ Snap was a great painter who was constantly improving. Mine, on the other hand, was terrible. I didn’t care, though. It was my first and I was glad to have been a part of this monumental experience. I slept deeply that night, even though adrenaline had been pouring through my veins. The previous eight hours had teemed with tension, excitement and fear, and they’d finished with an overwhelming sense of achievement. The team assembled at Kon’s the next day to mull over the previous night’s events. The story had already been going around Sydney’s graffiti world. Overnight, we younger boys, who were completely unknown, had become household names to any writer. ‘What!? You still pulled off panels?’ Kon asked with a hint of excitement and a touch of jealousy. ‘Yeah, two each,’ we said, as though it was an everyday thing. ‘Two? What!?’ Kon shook our hands and thanked us for backing him up. His phone rang. ‘Billz, what’s doing?’ he said as he walked out of the room to chat in private. I was eager to hear what Billz had to say. We’d backed Kon up, which was as good as fighting for Billz. Fighting for the leader of the crew would be sure to win us respect. Maybe we’d be put in RM. ‘Billz said to put you boys in RM.’ I looked at Base. I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. I wanted to go out there now and put my tag everywhere with an ‘RM’ next to it. ‘I told him you weren’t ready yet, though,’ Kon said. He saw the disappointment on our faces. ‘You’re close, but it was only once. You still have to prove yourself a couple more times – and improve your painting skills.’ I was disappointed, but I saw it as a challenge. It was time to turn the heat up. We went to see our work in daylight. The train’s carriages were covered end to end. It looked like it had been in a paintball fight. Paint was in places it wasn’t supposed to be, the wounds of our panels bleeding colours of pinks, greens, blues and whites. We thought it was beautiful and stood silently, enchanted, taking it all in and admiring the detail of our own work. We each turned to applaud our fellow painters after examining theirs. ‘Let’s try it again tonight,’ Kon said. It burnt him that he’d missed out, especially after seeing our production. We’d have been happy to leave it at that, but peer pressure is a bitch. To do more carriages would be more of a risk, as the next four cars were better lit. It was also fifty metres from a police station, and having being hammered the night before, the train was sure to attract some attention. Still, we went back. I painted slowly this time, taking every- thing in and savouring the experience. For a while I sat, watching as the boys painted away. The lights of the train illuminating the paint mist, sparkling as it rested on their faces. We were close to finishing when we spotted a man in an orange vest three metres behind us. We knew from his uniform that he was a train driver. He knew we were there but didn’t want to look – he was severely outnumbered and a wrong move by him and we’d have attacked. He past us as though he was passing a pride of lions. Not wanting to disturb us, look us in the eye or show fear, he simply stared straight ahead, stiff-necked as he walked by. ‘Good morning, mate,’ Snap said. ‘Morning,’ the train driver responded without turning his head. We hurried to finish off our panels. ‘Honnnnnnnnnnk!’ We looked to our right: spotlights from the train were flash- ing on and off. The driver was trying to alert the police. We all frantically stuffed our bags, scaled the barbed wire fence to the road and ran to the safety of the cars. Once we were far enough away, we celebrated. It was 4:30 a.m. and I felt alive! I was hooked. The train we painted ran the lines for three days. This was previously unheard of. Usually, a train with even a single panel would be taken out of operation to be cleaned. This train, covered end to end, curved along the tracks for all the graffiti culture to see and talk about. We rode that train on a few occasions. I loved seeing people heading to work, being woken up from their dull morning by a brightly coloured train. It was good to see other writers getting photos of it, too. We imagined everyone talking about us. The train felt like it was ours, and we became arrogant towards other writers. We believed what we wanted, and with all the talk of these new writers taking the world by storm, fighting and painting their way to the top, our feelings of supremacy grew. But I hated the thought of my family finding out. Society viewed our behaviour as wrong, and rightly so. In my new world, though, I wasn’t accepted unless I went against society’s rules. My moral compass was starting to spin out of control. I was being pulled by the magnetic forces of my ego. Soon I’d be lost.
  5. fatlaces

    >>> - SYDNEY - NSW - AUSTRALIA - <<<

    Someone ripped stayout: Some dope footage panels there...
  6. fatlaces

    >>> - SYDNEY - NSW - AUSTRALIA - <<<

    Sydney Train tunnel explorers https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SYmyECkjAzg
  7. fatlaces

    >>> - SYDNEY - NSW - AUSTRALIA - <<<

    Dont see enough (Enuph?) photos of this guys work around. One of my favourites form the mid-late 90's. TSP crew.
  8. fatlaces

    >>> - SYDNEY - NSW - AUSTRALIA - <<<

    2013 Sydney MVPs: Grime Soups and Rich Riz Ties Spray (shitty photo) Ready Insides Stet and Komer
  9. fatlaces

    Burners and Style!

  10. fatlaces

    ANTI STYLE what why when where

    Petro
  11. fatlaces

    ANTI STYLE what why when where

    Its an interesting development. I dont mind seeing it from dudes who have puti n work over the years and have developed/devp;ved there style over the years. I dislike it when new cats come out and dont even bother trying to learn style or the history behind a style in the first place. Heres an example of someone i think who has developed their style over time: Late 90s early 2000s recent
  12. fatlaces

    >>> - SYDNEY - NSW - AUSTRALIA - <<<

    running on instagram
  13. fatlaces

    >>> - SYDNEY - NSW - AUSTRALIA - <<<

    Embeded for you SRR
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