posted on May 28, 2006 at 8:35 am

dont ever tell me this aint a weird job
that im not in some weird weird position
i aint asking fer yer sympathy for this olde devil
i never do
but its doing my tiny head in
and its only about day 5
(insert own joke here!)
for a start
and unleavable
oh my tiny fiendss
those hungarians
living the boheemian lifestyle
oh budapest
with its green and slightly overgrown and wild gardens
the blossoms and pollen drift on warm breezes
its old ochre buildings
you dont think i wanna stay here for a hundred years
the food…..excellent, delicious
the special hungarian liquers
yeah whats that black stuff called
we had REAL absinthe
not that grain alcohol with a splash of wormwood flavour
that ya smugly buy in the bottle-o on oxford st
and ya think ya getting the real deal
now this real absinthe
drunk with the burning sugar n stuff
i can see how it drove a few olde poetic types
right round the twist…
its refreshes some part of ya
that other alco holes dont seem to touch much
typical ole sk raving on about some new drug…right?
but this one comes with a caveat
beware this fire burns
this green fire with burning sugar
it smacks ya into some wormwood place
they dont call it wormwood for nuthink
its also the name of the ghastly star
that will come close to earf in its final daze
go figger that druids
any way
yes i had a drop of absinthe
the gig was under a little pond/lake
in the middle of a park
in the middle of bpest
all long unmown grass
dudes sitting round in berets reading kafke
with beautiful magyar girlfriends
everybody taking their own sweet bohemian time
everybody just ambling along in that warm eastern hazy sun
a little bit like stockholm
if the swedes were a bit more fucking laissez-faire
and not so uptight with the gardening
but more inviting than scanda
some strange allure
fiendss this place is a best kept secret
anyway the gig is actually under this water
from onstage you can look up thru
a layer of water and beyond it the greyblue sky
this aint no ordinary gig
the people there….a DELIGHT
everyfuckingone of em
laying on the black liquors and jazz ciggies
helping out
lending us stuff
speaking their melodic version of english
we played our whole set to rehearse
that wassa a mistake
cos for one of the only times ever
my voice has begun to give out
all that projection ive been gaining
my ability that i have only got in the last
couple of years
to insinuate my voice into a room and fill it up
i couldnae really do it
until just now
i dunno
a few years
but now im really perfecting it
before that
my olde singing
was almost no projection
no resonance
a style
but little real singing
now im combining the 2
dont worry fiendss
i aint turning into johnny bluesgrunter
im just trying to get this as good as i can
and fiendss
there was lots of room for improvement
anyway we finish soundcheck
theres some weird little fashion/dance thing
going down
people with fur stuck to their faces
and women running round
doing the kinda thing that eve and aurora
do in their “drama” classes when i pick em up
running around “gracefully”
anyway…why the hell not???
the gig was a fucking corker
we had it nailed immediately
we were a little ruff
but our machine sang like a lark
and we pulled off some minor miracle
which is when basically
4 olde geezers
with some acc instruments
took themselves and a few others
to another place for a cuppla hours
the audience were lovely
there were about 6/7 hundred
we did our encores
we loved em
they loved us
it was a done deal
my voicey is now a gruff squeak
(if ya can imagine that!!!)
but fuck it
i have some more absinthe
and wander off to my hotel
which was one of the nicest i EVER stayed at
and i didnt even have a room with a balcony
like the othars
next morning i do yoga
i have a delicious brekky
in the little dining area
this place is the opposite
of some western fast food fucked up bullshit
this has style grace
its all understated
the furniture and design
some impossible cool that australia never achieves
its fucking european culture at its subtle and finest
not just a capitalistic franchised runway
a real city
trees, gardens, rivers, and statues
and castles
if you like that stuff
well they got it here
and i must also say
that mr k n
who made the whole thing possible
was a true host
and is now promoted to
sir kev of kilbeyland
for services beyond the call of duty
it was gonna be hard to top hungary
the next day we spent flying
hanging round heathrow
(like purgatory with newsagents)
we finally get into ireland bout 7 oclock
straight to gig
where we meet the following assorted
lords of the kilbey realm
lord boyd of laytownbuzzard
lord merrick of eternal youth and treesaver
sir richard a, energetic and unchanged
bishop michael farrant a true believer
count belfrank
who made this gig possible
(Oh my dear friend i hope ya didnt lose too many euros on it)
count belfrank, the gift of the gab
the man i shoulda been having lunchy with
when they busted me in nyc
(ha! now i always listen to his advice)
ah..another sprightly young knave
duke rikki tikki tavi maymee baybee
of the incredibly huge rock band
the blah blah blah blahs
(hi anton….ive recovered from meeting you
and i wanna get back in the ring for another swing!)
duke maymee produced the pipeweed
and we hobbits smoked
ok ok
ya saying
what about yer voice
it is /was shot
in medical laryngeal terms
the condition is called a fucked up voice
coughing up nasty stuff
i can hardly talk
let alone sing
shut up
the other members had been saying all day
but they do that every day too
by the time we hit dubbling
my voice was a hoarse croak with a strange occaisional
high pitched bit
no longer the velvety crooner
but just a tired olde git
with a fucked voice
and a scared feeling
cos this has never really happened to me before a gig
we come all the way to ireland
and i cant sing
im sorry
nothings gonna cheer me up about that
i wanted to show em what i could do
and i was like a guitarist with one olde rusty string
to play on
the crowd was kinda small and kinda reserved
i guess
not like the hungarians
who jumped right into it
there was a distance i could not bridge
my humour was forced
it fell flat and no bugger laughed
you see
ireland and i have a little problem with each other
i never quite “got” it about ireland
and it never quite “got” it about me
thats just how life is
ya cant love and be loved by everywhere
i played abysmally
and felt like wishing
that hole would open in the stage
and take me down to some stygian pit
where i could rail against my disappointment
for EVERBODYS sake
the rest of the band played on
they were ok
but we never transcended
the way we so effortlessly had in bpest
we had exceeded our time limit curfew
and we played only un mo for the on core
which was unsatisfying
im sorry fiendss
you want some honesty
i hadde a terrible gig
i couldnt sing
my bass playing was hopeless
it was nae anyones fault
its just the way it goes
afterwards we met
earl frankie xk and dame janice
and the lovely and divine
nicky see more
of that famous band
the you know whos
a true australian character
comedian, raconteur etc etc
cmon see more
thats enuff flattery for ya
but these guys are amazing folks
almost lift me outta doldrums
back to hotel
very nice actually
much better than what i knows coming in london tonite
im english
can i say this
i feel homeless in my home country
i cant understand the lager
the pubs
the sausages n beans n darts
the stupid obsession wiv soccer and its associated violence
its ridiculous prices (at least for australians)
its awful fucking hotels
its stodgy food
its obseession wiv posh n bex n page 3 royal gossip
its a cockney america wiv worse food
my england
what fuckin happened to ya
id rather go to any other city in europe
than london
i love my english fans n fiends and family
theres still a lot of brilliant and beautiful people here
but have a look at what flleet street hath wrought
look at prince fucking harry n robbie willy-ams
stay in a london hotel for a week
but im always looking for that mythical london
of the swinging sixties
and now its just greed n souvenirs
and a fucking million people everywhere you look
the hideously poor
the hideously rich
im sorry england
you spawned me
and i know you dont care what i think
but just like america
its all going wrong
ya cant ignore the things ya trying to ignore
yer celebrity culture disgusts me
what do i know
im a halfbreed thats not at home anywhere
i like bondi fuckin’ beach cos its easy
and its warm
and ya pretty much can do whatever ya like
i dont like london cos its cold n grey n dirty n heartbreaking
but our english fans
are some of the most knowledgable n erudite as you can get
i guess i got the same problem with england as ireland
we never really understood each other
you can stick yer whole cockney wide boy artfull dodger routine
but all my favourite bands come from england
cmon england fucking rules music
nuff said
why didnt they ever really like us over there
i guess not everbody can go all the way
we lucky to be playing over here at all at this stage of game
so englands a big screaming paradox for me
i always thought i was doing all my music for the english
i thought they were the only ones whod understand my lyrics n that
but not everything can be popular
i guess it wasnt the surefire thing i thought it was
never mind
i look forward to the borderline so so much
i cant tell ya
not london
but the gig itself
if my olde ruined voicey can regain its former splenda
we will surely deliver on our promise
and fiends
i aint innit fot the moneytravelwomenfame
i just wanna strap on mah fender bass
sing mah songs with my compadres
and i wanna fucking deliver
do what we can do
which no other can do
quite the way that we do
it aint always easy
its a lofty goal
gotta keep tryin’ for it
see ya later frankies
nick c-moor
lovely colleens and oirish laddies
we’re bound for olde blighty
will she take me in her arms n love me?????
i’ll let ya know
same bat time
same bat channel

37 Responses to “the hungarian empire +the emerald aisle”

    Error thrown

    Call to undefined function ereg()