I have just finished applying my mascara & squeezing on my velvet beddy boots, well prepared as always for a fitful nights sleep. My Mike & The Mechanics tape is whispering from the stereo (in deference to my sleeping housemates) & the scented candle filling my boudoir with the appetizing waft of chemicals, many thousands of them.I have swallowed a handful of pills, arranged to a pleasing visual pattern, and am waiting the abating of my viral symptoms with a cup of coffee. Sadly last week both Tim & myself contracted something hideous, possibly due to the Ekka (the terrifying truth being that should you refuse to attend, the cocktail of infection & bacteria will attend to you). While I relax I will relate the weekends events, mainly focusing on Saturday night & especially the parts where we played.It was yet again an evening in which we managed to book two gigs. This is the third time we have done this. Considering our delicate temperaments & fragile physical conditions, it would seem like a dangerous undertaking. We do not, however, let thinking get the best of us, & enthusiastically accepted everything we could.The first show was an evening slot at the Wrecking Ball, held at the Jubilee. I am not sure if the Wrecking Ball happens on an annual basis or if this was a one off occasion, but I can safely say it was the WORST fucking show we ever delivered. It would have been less painful to watch a person with a terminal case of leprosy attempting to dance for spare change while being pelted with rotten fruit. EVERYTHING went all different kinds of wrong. The volume restrictions were beyond severe, moving well into the realm of authoritarian sadism. The one cheer I recall was after I attempted to jump back on to the stage and fell face first at Scott's feet. I think our collective dignity slid off to wait in front of the other stage for the next band to start as we limped through the rest of it. Much like getting cold feet halfway through a murder, we really didn't want to continue, but couldn't stop. Eventually though, it ended. I can only hope our various apologies were accepted by the handful of bemused spectators who stuck around. We didn't get to stay for Giants of Science, which was a bummer, as we were due at the Step Inn.The obvious blessing of our night was the second show, a chance to redeem ourselves, & to play with a group of AWESOME bands! Angry Dave, a man who has turned the science of being excellent into an art, organized the show. The deft touch of genius was visible on every surface of the room. From the first show, where the bored sighs of the bar staff were louder than our strangled chords, we were greeted with the sight of a towering wall of speakers & what could be the highlight of my life thus far, A BUBBLE MACHINE!Ash Kerley, Captain Sledgehammer, BMXray, & The Riot all played. Things, as per my usual routine, kind of get a little foggy in my head. I recall Ash Kerley & Captain Sledgehammer playing, both doing an excellent job of erasing the horrible memories of earlier. I may have gone outside at some point convince myself not to throw up on the floor of the Step Inn. I cannot recall if I was present for BMXray & The Riot, but have been informed both were in excellent form.It was a night of extremes, dizzying highs, dizzying lows, & dizzying middles. Fuck knows when we are playing again, but I am sure it will be eventually. Until then we shall continue to do our regular stuff, but will hopefully have some exciting other type things coming up!Stay de-tuned.
