Last week I went to Melbourne with The Seja Band to do a couple of supports with Los Angeleans, Warpaint. The shows were over two nights, sold out on each, at the Northcote Social Club and it is fair to say that I probably played my worst and best shows ever with the band. Luckily it was in that order....
The most significant moment I can remember from the dud set was during 'We Begin' where I play the keyboard hook throughout the song. We started playing the song, I manage to get the keyboard run done (quite tidily) once, then, out of nowhere, brain fails and I suddenly can't remember ANY note that I am supposed to be playing. I keep trying and trying, hitting everything wrong and nothing right. To make matters worse, I just keep doing it, throughout the entire song, distracting, torturous and completely obvious FORGODSSAKESJUSTSTOPPLAYINGWOULDYOU???
No... I keep going and going, determined to right my wrongs, and fail miserably. On top of this, I am so completely frustrated with myself that I yell "FUCK!!" mid song. In this moment I realise that microphone is right there, in front of my mouth, and I still can't be sure that the front of house speakers didn't pick up my crude awakening.
The next night I (thankfully) redeem myself; no fails, no yelling profanities into mics, and I manage to find myself still employed in The Seja Band for another day. Believe me, I thought it was touch and go there for a moment.
I got to catch a bit of Warpaint this evening too, and wow, it was one of the sexiest things I have ever seen. 4 girls, all haircuts and collarbones, awash in red light, reverb and chorus, looking achingly sultry and a just little bit sad. Yepppp. I would turn for any one of them.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
The ol' disappearing January trick, eh?
Well, it seems I have taken my unemployment a liiiiiitle too seriously. I have let pretty much let it all go. I have not only stopped working, but have stopped blogging, stopped checking emails, stopped getting up early, stopped caring what I look like at 4pm in the supermarket in my pyjamas with crazy bed hair, and stopped giving a toss if anyone judges me for it.
That said, it has been a pretty eventful past month. There have been natural disasters, park drinks, inland tsunamis, mid week parties, returned luggage, noise complaints, flood refugees, job offers, juvenile delinquency, renovations, walking after midnight, long distance dragster rides, romance, bromance, and mad rants.
I have realised that having no job makes you really good at things like:
Baking
Craft
Indifference
Strolling
Procrastination
General time wasting
Conspiracy theory
Drinking-far-too-much-coffee-javajavajavajavajavajavajava
Trolling the Internet
If these new skillz weren't enough, I have also very nearly mastered mid week binge drinking, and how to make friends and influence them into giving me their cigarettes.
*IamstillanonsmokerIamstillanonsmokerIamstillanonsmoker*
All in all a great month. My sincerest apologies for not posting during this time. I will endeavour to be better. Starting......now!
That said, it has been a pretty eventful past month. There have been natural disasters, park drinks, inland tsunamis, mid week parties, returned luggage, noise complaints, flood refugees, job offers, juvenile delinquency, renovations, walking after midnight, long distance dragster rides, romance, bromance, and mad rants.
I have realised that having no job makes you really good at things like:
Baking
Craft
Indifference
Strolling
Procrastination
General time wasting
Conspiracy theory
Drinking-far-too-much-coffee-javajavajavajavajavajavajava
Trolling the Internet
If these new skillz weren't enough, I have also very nearly mastered mid week binge drinking, and how to make friends and influence them into giving me their cigarettes.
*IamstillanonsmokerIamstillanonsmokerIamstillanonsmoker*
All in all a great month. My sincerest apologies for not posting during this time. I will endeavour to be better. Starting......now!
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Luggage lag
Good morning jetlag! Well, It is 5:39am and I have woken up bright as a bunny, back home in Brisbanetown. Jetlag is well and truly upon me but luckily its most adverse effects are going to bed at a very sensible hour and waking up at a time that others of the unemployed would mock with great amusement.
The trip home has been, well, epic to say the least. There were snowstorms, flight delays, 5 extra days in Paris, 11 hour stop overs, Christmas Day at Heathrow, exit rows, histerical babies (also in exit rows) and stolen business class chocolate.
We arrived home on Monday 27th of Dec 1010, relieved and exhausted, exiting the plane with gusto, pushing our way through customs, determined to be the first to get our bags and get home. At the baggage carousel we waited, and waited....and then waited some more. The checked bags chugged on by, and with every new piece that was spat violently out of the baggage hole, I lost a little confidence that mine would be next. The other passengers from QF52 happily pick up their luggage, smiling, laughing, kissing their partners, high-fiving other successful baggage claimers and finally passed by me, bags in tow, whispering 'loser' and wearing their superiority proudly as they pushed their way out of the international holding area. My elated glad-to-be-home mood first turned into anger, then sadness, then apathy, then resentment, then anger again and finally self-pity. The bags were not coming.
After filing a report with baggage services I walked away not certain that I would recieve my bags and guitar at all.
2 days later, my guitar has arrived, my big bag however (with EVERYTHING I OWN in it) is still MIA.
The trip home has been, well, epic to say the least. There were snowstorms, flight delays, 5 extra days in Paris, 11 hour stop overs, Christmas Day at Heathrow, exit rows, histerical babies (also in exit rows) and stolen business class chocolate.
We arrived home on Monday 27th of Dec 1010, relieved and exhausted, exiting the plane with gusto, pushing our way through customs, determined to be the first to get our bags and get home. At the baggage carousel we waited, and waited....and then waited some more. The checked bags chugged on by, and with every new piece that was spat violently out of the baggage hole, I lost a little confidence that mine would be next. The other passengers from QF52 happily pick up their luggage, smiling, laughing, kissing their partners, high-fiving other successful baggage claimers and finally passed by me, bags in tow, whispering 'loser' and wearing their superiority proudly as they pushed their way out of the international holding area. My elated glad-to-be-home mood first turned into anger, then sadness, then apathy, then resentment, then anger again and finally self-pity. The bags were not coming.
After filing a report with baggage services I walked away not certain that I would recieve my bags and guitar at all.
2 days later, my guitar has arrived, my big bag however (with EVERYTHING I OWN in it) is still MIA.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Spent
Spent last night bragging about how I have an uncanny ability to make long distance transport with only minutes to spare.
Spent this morning trying to get another ticket to Paris because I missed my train at 8.02.
Spent last night partying with the Family Fisk in Switzerland.
Spent this morning bruised, broken and wondering just how much champagne one can consume before one realises they should indeed be in bed by now.
3 hours sleep. 5 hour train ride ahead. Jazz in Paris tonight (with any luck).
Spent this morning trying to get another ticket to Paris because I missed my train at 8.02.
Spent last night partying with the Family Fisk in Switzerland.
Spent this morning bruised, broken and wondering just how much champagne one can consume before one realises they should indeed be in bed by now.
3 hours sleep. 5 hour train ride ahead. Jazz in Paris tonight (with any luck).
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Switzerland ya!
Gots me an all day sandwich and I'm off to Switzerland for a few days. The tour finished last Friday and I spent a few days in Rennes with my sister from a Frenchy mister, Marie.
The tour was great but it's definitely a lot harder doing it in the winter. The summertime in France (and especially Brittany) is vibrant and exciting. The sun is out and people are happy to be alive. I definitely noticed far more reserved attitudes this time around. No wonder....it really is hard around this time of year. The sun hides longer in the earth's rotation, plants die, roads close, trains are delayed... but life must go on.
I feel like I drank enough wine on tour to considerably impact on the grape industry in northern France. They better get to replanting otherwise we could have some very angry frenchies next summer. Also, I am officially a smoker in France and a non-smoker in Australia. It is certain that if I lived in this fair country I would have NO CHANCE at giving up. It is simply unavoidable.
So since Friday I have been in Rennes and I am officially on holidays. Had the pleasure of attending 'Transmusicales', a festival attended by around 60,000 this year. One thing learned is that it don't matter where in the world you are, there will always be a healthy dickhead contingent at festivals. A second thing learned is that if you give me a VIP pass, don't expect that I will leave the glorious minimum dickhead comfort of the VIP bar. The theory has been tried and tested in Australia and France alike and the results remain undoubtedly stable.
Glad to be enroute to Switzerland, although, I did discover a hole in the toe of one of my boots last night. Probably not the greatest for trapsing through the snow-lined streets of Basel. Nevermind... got the gaff, taped it up, hopefully that'll do. Waaaah.
The tour was great but it's definitely a lot harder doing it in the winter. The summertime in France (and especially Brittany) is vibrant and exciting. The sun is out and people are happy to be alive. I definitely noticed far more reserved attitudes this time around. No wonder....it really is hard around this time of year. The sun hides longer in the earth's rotation, plants die, roads close, trains are delayed... but life must go on.
I feel like I drank enough wine on tour to considerably impact on the grape industry in northern France. They better get to replanting otherwise we could have some very angry frenchies next summer. Also, I am officially a smoker in France and a non-smoker in Australia. It is certain that if I lived in this fair country I would have NO CHANCE at giving up. It is simply unavoidable.
So since Friday I have been in Rennes and I am officially on holidays. Had the pleasure of attending 'Transmusicales', a festival attended by around 60,000 this year. One thing learned is that it don't matter where in the world you are, there will always be a healthy dickhead contingent at festivals. A second thing learned is that if you give me a VIP pass, don't expect that I will leave the glorious minimum dickhead comfort of the VIP bar. The theory has been tried and tested in Australia and France alike and the results remain undoubtedly stable.
Glad to be enroute to Switzerland, although, I did discover a hole in the toe of one of my boots last night. Probably not the greatest for trapsing through the snow-lined streets of Basel. Nevermind... got the gaff, taped it up, hopefully that'll do. Waaaah.
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