R.F. Coleman: music video screening and debut live performance


7:30 pmThursday, 13 October 2022


Brunswick Ballroom

314 Sydney Rd, Brunswick VIC 3056

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R. F. Coleman music video screening and debut performance - Thursday 13th Oct

We're pleased to announce that on Thursday, 13th October at Brunswick Ballroom, R. F. Coleman will be screening his debut music video, 'I Couldn't Trust', for the first time! Followed by his first ever live performance as R. F. Coleman.

An independent Melbourne artist, R. F. Coleman's debut single "I Couldn't Trust" was a bit of a long shot. He likes long shots. With a bit of luck - and late nights on the couch - the song has picked up attention largely from audiences in Brazil, USA and UK with 13,000 views on YouTube in 6 days; 14,5000 streams and a reach of 2.65m on TikTok. Coleman is stoked, we're stoked! So we'd love to celebrate!

Come see R. F. Coleman perform live for the first time, on-screen and on-stage, this Thursday 13th at Brunswick Ballroom. Doors from 6:30pm. Free entry. And he'll even draw your portrait as a thank you after the show if you come and hang a while (limited to the amount of paper he brings).

About "I Couldn't Trust":

"I Couldn't Trust" is the debut release from R. F. Coleman. It was co-written with long-time friend, Joshua Moriarty (of Miami Horror and Telenova), and co-produced by Scott Horscroft (who produced Silverchair, DMA's, Empire of the Sun, The Presets etc!).

Accompanying the single is R. F. Coleman's debut film clip, directed by Jono Dutton (ex Director of 'Neighbours', RIP) and shot by an award-winning DOP, Chas Mackinnon. Like the song, it narrates the transition from addict to Coleman being able to trust himself. 534 days sober at time of writing, if you keep reading, you'll probably understand why it was a good idea!

About R. F. Coleman:

R. F. Coleman is an independent debut self-funded artist from Australia. Surprisingly, fluffing a contract with the largest label in the world as a 36-year-old debut musician isn't the dumbest thing R. F. Coleman has done. While writing for the New York Times he put a hit out on himself after befriending a gangster in a military-run cocaine bar. He's been shot, stabbed and poisoned with cyanide. Written books. Trashed them. Created thousands of pieces of art. The only one he's kept is the soon-to-exhibited 'The Toilet'. 'The Toilet' has been programmed to print R. F. Coleman's shit artworks whenever money is flushed down it.

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