Friday nights liver towelling (slash gig) in Syndey was of such an impressive magnitude – I figured it needs to be documented.
Friday August 12
1:30am – Still at the Governor Hindmarsh after the Children Collide gig... notable “check-ins” include Woody Annison, Johnny McKay, Simon and Shane (DZ Deathrays), and all but one of the Shiny Brights. Also - each and every member of Hunting Grounds are available right now, via telephone...at the same time....on six different cellular telephones.....Yeah, its getting pretty OSLO-circa-a-month-ago right now....people are smoking wherever they want, and people that didn’t already know Woody are immediately shocked and appalled by being pigeon-holed as “Racist”, before having actually met the guy. Fuck being a wiener at Woody’s school, in South London, in the eighties.....
2:00am – Red Wine glasses brimmed with Smirnoff and a DASH of red bull are being issued amongst the remaining team. I can’t stress “Dash” enough either, each sip was like a Chuck Norris knee to the bollocks. Yet the beverages on offer are consumed only in a boat race fashion – a notion that was forcefully peer-pressured towards anyone in ear-shot - Security guards and performers alike.
It’s at about this point that I notice the time, curse maliciously in rego’s ear and realise I’m due at work six hours. At this juncture I exit the premises. Later I catch wind of certain members of The Shiny Brights having to blow off some steam, by walking home from Hindmarsh – leaving little presents from within along the way....like an Easter-egg hunt.
7:45am – Buns’s alarm sounds for work. He smashes his alarm clock several times with a nearby shoe, before realising the alarm was actually set on his phone, not his bedside alarm clock. His phone is on the nearby bathroom floor. Cheers.
9:00am: Buns punches himself in the testies FIFTY times...I mean “goes to work”.
1:05pm: Le Shiny Brights board a plane to SYDNEY.
4:00pm: Sound check/ load-in at the Gaelic followed by the prompt purchase of overpriced beer. In Bulk.
5:00 pm: Beers/filthy jokes/anti-histamines at Karen’s.
7:00pm: The banta moves to The Strawberry Hills Hotel, for French fries/filthy jokes/beer
8:30pm: The Sunny Days/RadioStar/no-one-is-really-sure open at the Gaelic
9:20 pm: TSB perform as a Banjo quintet with a Bolivian pipes player. They are well received.
10:00pm: Chris “Bondi-vet” Plummer manages 4 little piggy’s on his back simultaneously – much to the amazement of two Peruvian back-packers, and nearby chiropractors.
10:15pm: Tales in Space from Syndey perform, to a capacity audience and a lighting show that is not for the feint hearted. If I was a chic – I’d have my titties out at this point. I did anyway.
11:15:pm The Cairos from Brizzzvegas (fuck off anyone who has EVER used that term seriously) take the stage to a chorus of extremely drunk scenesters/babes/Adelaide bands....
12:30am: Proceedings move to Oxford Arts Factory.
1:00am: People are that sort of drunk where they pretend to hump attractive chics that squeeze past while they aren’t looking. I am guilty of this.
Clancy Bennett - present
Buns - .......yeah...ish
Chris- sort of
Rego – maybe by a thread
Paul – not really present
The Sunny Days/RadioStar/not sure – ...heeeere.
(THIS IS MY FAVOURITE)
2:30am: Looking around, clearly all previous inhibitions have gone out the window, most people are attempting their CLEAN Usher moves – genuinely convinced that they are nailing them. Most of us have tangoed with other anonymous female inebriates – to no avail, for obvious reasons.
3:00am: people are talking reeeeeaaal slow now. Sentences riddled with hiccups. hugging – everywhere. Rego is sleeping on his feet, on the dance floor, with a beer. Numbers are thinning in the venue...
4:00am: Hungry Jacks, Oxford Street.
Chris has already “claimed” his second unwarranted burger , just doing casual laps back-and-forth from the counter, claiming he is waiting on assorted menu items. .......Now he is bellowing at the top of his lungs – we are still racking our brains as to why?? (An upcoming blog video will explain this better)
5:00am: Arrive at Karrots criiiib. Me and Chris sleep in one another’s arms, on the floor. Rego takes ownership of the couch. All fully clothed, with food.
6:00am: Lights out.
8:30am: Alarm. Shit. Fuck. Alarm. Clothes? Belongings? Dignity? Health? Alarm. Vom. Cab. Airport. Flight. Shit. Fuck. Bollocks. Sleep.
Lengthy read huh? Sucked in.