oh i dont know
im backstage at the tivoli
they got wi-fi here
im blogging
gee i cant remember too much about eumundi
i kept my head down n i did my gig
it was good someone said…
we stayed ay a lovely bed n breakfast joint
with a huge sloping garden filled with plants n flowers n birds
spring sunshine n blue skies
i did yog n chi on ye olde verandah
the gig was down a grassy hill from the accom
an arcadian bushland setting for a full moon stroll to gig
pan appears from behind a tree with a dryad
his pipes begin their lull
the dryad curtseys n dances around her tree
her arms raised up in exstacy
wow i havent even hadda drink yet
the gig is smallish n solde out
my in-ear monitoring disorients me
encaging me within my own stereophonic world
i pluck the bass i sing the song
i lock into a groove
and the music does the talking
i dont always know what its talking about
but thats ok, i guess
the stage is about 5 inches high
theres no drum riser either
and its a bit cramped for me to run around
rocking n rolling like a lunatick
as i normally do……
we do some encores
i spose they musta liked it
the next day
which was this morning
i wake up
and at the bottom of the hill is a huge market
i mean huge
this baby was huge
bigger than all the markets in sydnee put togetha!
im baffled by choice
so i dont buy nuffink
tho i coulda got loadsa different stuff
didjeridoos, furniture, tiedyed baby outfits
handmaid chockies, pickles, tea, hats, shoes, paintings
windchimes,toys, capes, smartarse tshirts,
creams which fix arthritis n footnmouth disease
oh and lots n lots more
then me n pablo vee the chrunchs trusty cameraman
have brekky in this caf
i have avocado salad with macadamia nut dressing n lemon juice
some bread with hummous baked in somehow
what a nice way to start ye olde day now already fled
so i drive to brizzy with jordene bareback the chrunchs mixah
trevore j, the chrunchs lighting man, n pv
check into yonder hotel
same one year after year
same people working behind the desk
same bar of chocky in the fridge
i ‘ave a showr
i do chi gong n yog
im cooled out n calm as a cucumber
i call a cab
another cab rolls in
the cab i call has a sikh guy
hes never heard of the tivoli
he makes a feeble effort to look it up on his map
why dont you take that taxi he says angrily
i jump out
go over to other taxi
can ya take me to the tiv-o-lee?
yep
didnt that arab know where it was? he says
he wasnt an arab, he was a sikh i say
same fucking difference mate he says
we get to tivoli
lovely olde theatre in middle of brizzy
n olde brizzy aint a badde town fiendss….
not too badde at all in fact
come on a long way
since an idiot was in charge here
everyone knew he was an idiot
but he seemed to have rigged things
he was a born again religious ratbag too
gee sounds kinda like some other little tyrant
and now we all laugh about this idiot
like we will about that other still extant idiot one day
we do a long n tedious soundcheck
the bass droops round my neck weighing a hundred tons
my voice croaks out n falls flat n sharp to the flaw
my cut up finger is sore n opened up
the band all muck around with their gadgets n stuff
its loud n cold n lonely up on that stage
we rehearse some songs
gonna change it a little tonight
so that leaves me here with you
waiting for my thai tofu stir fry to materialise
bare footed, its pleasantly balmy outside
people keep interrupting me
as i attempt to write this blogge
D-railing my trains of thought
never never mind
thats it
in one n half hours i hit the boards
a rocknroll warlock
unleashed n set free
calling up the racket
my heavy staff
gently throbbing under my fingers