The diarist sets out his entertainer’s gripes: bad riders, rude venue staff, no personal space, waiting, sound guys, audiences standing at the back of a room, and bogans. Published in e-book format, it is accompanied by a limited run of hardcopies printed with a Risograph – a high-volume photocopier, used here to imitate the appearance of a 1970s high-school yearbook.

Heazlewood is at his best when he imitates travel writing. He records his experiences in towns around Australia. In Canberra he describes the local ABC radio (on AM frequency 666) as ‘Satan in slacks’, and at the Hotel New York in Launceston he wonders ‘if New York has a Hotel Launceston with walls adorned with cricketing paraphernalia [and] homophobic numberplates’. Moments like these justify struggling through sentences such as this: ‘You’re validated to the heavens and flying high on mirth and faith and syncopated idea smashing where the hammer of industry fitness reigns [sic] down on the flint of a rock hard lifetimes [sic] worth of joys and disasters.’

It is surprising that someone at Affirm Press (publisher of the e-books) wasn’t enlisted to supply some hyphens and curb the alliteration. The Diaries feels like a bad Kerouac imitation at times. Heazlewood is to be congratulated on his candour: if only an editor had tempered the sanctimoniousness of the conclusion, which leaves a bad taste in the mouth.