I always forget! I mean, I'll be the
first to admit that I'm not the sharpest cornflake in the toolshed,
but surely something that crops up every year and lasts over two
months is likely to make an impression. In my defense, it hardly
happened at all last year. Still though...
I am referring of course to the
January/Febuary slump that hits musicians (and everyone else) every
year with the force of a hurled plaster bust of Seth McFarlane, with
approximately the same comedic effect, which is to say, no comedic
effect. Luckily, the early months of a fledgling 2013 have been
peppered with lovely gigs that, if not keeping my pockets jingling
(which reminds me, has anyone seen my keys?), are certainly keeping a
smile on my face and whatever orifice the body uses to store artistic
pride full of same. Last week saw Fast.Like.Fun get in the Funmobile
(it's actually a red Transit van) and head to Waterford for a gig in
a lovely little venue called Murphy's (just opposite the bus station
if you're in the area). All and sundry had a great time. Ohio the OHP
cello-meister came up to see us, in the company of his mother and
sister who are over from the States visiting their no-good son/
ne'er-do-well brother. I also had a chance to catch up with some
friends from college, which was long overdue, and really added to the
friendly atmosphere of the gig.
Another rockin rollicking good time was
had last wednesday, when One Horse Pony finally played a gig in the
Crane Lane. You've heard me talking about the place many times at
this stage. It's a place I've been playing for years with various
different bands. Last wednesday's performance could well have been my
favorite performance there to date. The difference between the
youtube clips I sent the booking agent (clips which are over a year
old) and the band that we have become is profound. The visual
difference is as good as any to illustrate just how much we've grown.
The clip featured meself, Badger, Harmonica Niall and a guest drummer
dishing it out goodo. Plenty of energy, good music and much
shape-throwing to get the crowd into the spirit of things. By
comparison, the band that played on Wednesday featured guitars,
harmonica, bodhran (the lovely Irish traditional drum made from dead
animal), cello, low whistle and harmonica (courtesy of Kev, our new
brother-in-arms). Seated in a horseshoe shape rather than standing,
but still giving out goodo and relying solely on the music to speak
for itself and get people going was the order of the day. It worked.
Five-part harmonies? More or less, yeah! We were lucky to be playing
to a large crowd (who wasted no time in showing off their excellent
dancing abilities), and we were well-rehearsed, tight and
comfortable. But you know what? Excellent performances from everyone,
a great crowd, a happy venue, a few fluff-ups that made us giggle and
every other facet that makes a great gig great will forever be
eclipsed in my memory by what happened after the gig.
So let me set the scene. The bouncers
are clearing everyone out. We're all hanging out at the back of the
smoking section close to the cigarette machine and the toilets,
having a well deserved cigarette and a bit of communal back-patting
session (that sounds bad, but isn't). A girl, having dodged the army
of eight foot bouncers, made her way towards us and started talking
what can best be described as gibberish. Fair enough, we go along
with it and whole-heartedly concur with all the bits we can
understand, and generally agree that yes, on balance her boyfriend
is a twat, her friends are an awful shower, and, all things
considered, her shoes ARE very nice. She then unceremoniously pissed
herself.
The tomes of social etiquette are
silent on what to do in this situation. Naturally if the person in
question looks justifiably mortified, you assure him/her that these
things happen to the best of us, and they're among friends. If it
happens to be a very pretty girl doing the peeing, I (being the
chivalrous type) might even pee my own pants in solidarity and
sympathy. That's not quite true, but a little giggle-inducing to
think about. The girl in question however, did not look shocked or
embarrassed, but instead comported herself as you would stubbing out
a cigarette or checking the time; a perfectly understandable reason
for briefly stopping the flow of conversation, and best done quickly
and efficiently, so as not to delay the chat. I took this opportunity
to make an exit, owing to a deep-seated belief that incontinence is
contagious.
Fast.Like.Fun were in operation last
night supporting Irish metal heavyweights Time Is A Thief. We had a
great gig with a great response from the attending rawkers *devil
horns rock gesture thing* but it was the second time in as many gigs
I've had a glaringly bad 'pedalboard malfunction' which is a little
like a wardrobe malfunction, but with marginally less nipple. At the
crucial time, instead of hitting the 'makey-louder' pedal I
accidentally pressed the 'mutey-poo' one. These are technical terms.
Yep, still not brightest bridge in the box, but now I have an excuse
to spend a few hours industriously mucking about with my pedalboard.
I can positively feel the envy radiating off you.
On a slightly strange note, I just
realized (mostly because facebook just told me) that it's Rory
Gallagher's birthday today. Being from his hometown, and a
blues-rocker at heart, I'm a tremendous fan of Rory, spent many an
hour learning some of his solos note for note (or so I thought at
the time... I was but a young'un) and cut my teeth in a blues bar
founded in his honour. In that blues bar, I first performed in public
and, especially significantly today, fronted a band for the first
time, on Rory's birthday. That would have been this day six years
ago. Teehee. It's coming up to 9pm at time of writing, and it doesn't
take a colossal leap of imagination to think of my younger self
completely shitting it, half an hour away from playing a gig with my
first full blues band. It went pretty well as I recall. At some stage
I'll sit down and write an entry about Rory. He's certainly a guy
worth talking about. For now, happy birthday Rory! You're missed.
That's all for the moment, guys. I'm
off to play a game of Hunt The Keys.
Thanks for reading. More to come :-)
R
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