Current mood: TROOPY DOOPY....
Category: TROOPY DOOPY.... Music
I've told you before of the trials and torments of being a music writer...
I've detailed the hell of recieving 4 or 5 free cds a week, the SHEER PAIN of free gig and club tickets, the horrible times spent amidst musical genies, the queue jumping, the stinking celeb ridden after-parties, the free gifts etc etc..
I know you've all wept and lit candles for me in the church, and I'm completely sure our shared personal hell can only be compounded when I tell you that Wednesday night I had no option but to attend a free gig in the company of 3 beautiful women.
Yes boss, I was lying on the sofa in the hours before I left Fort Giovanna to see Anton Barbeau, knowing I was once again up against it - that God was a true and bad cunt, who was forever dealing me a rough hand.
I'm not joking. I felt like Tom Cruise hanging off a rope, the prize gone and some evil suited shit about to cut him loose to realise an ALMOST CERTAIN DEATH!!!
Why??
Well, the week of benders had known no borders or bounds and it was threatening to spoil things:
Monday Night: Gay Rum. 5am dancing and sliding around the house with key members of the Casa Giovanna Familia.
Tuesday Morning: Trousers blistered and ruined. Two broken glasses. I ached like a weightlifter. The neighbours hate me AND I still can't knee slide as well as Prince!!??
Tuesday Night: Another 5am finish. Hundreds of weak beer. More chewed fat than a week of 24 hour news...
"I DON'T THINK I'M GONNA BE ABLE TO MAKE IT!!!" I fretted.
dead
and
burried....
So what happenned next???
Well, like Tim Tom Cruise, I pulled through.
Yes boss, when the rope was cut, I found I had a secret parachute and an unbreakable body, and with the aid of a further 5 Carlsbergs, I made it to the rendezvous at The Phoenix Bar for 8.45pm feeling just about normal and rather happy..))
The Phoenix Bar is attached to the Phoenix Theatre. It's a private members bar, but if you flip your scarf over your shoulder, in the manner of a fey and hugely talented actor, you can get in minus membership without a problem.
It was there that I met up with the Ladies.
Now please don't think I was philandering like the cad I pretend to be. No boss, this was business. I don't hang around with groupies or harridans, I hang around with dedicated and professional writers, musicians and PR people. We talk business, readership figures, the future of music. Great words are said. Huge concepts unpacked and genius ideas formulated that will doubtlessly save the musical world from a 24th Oasis LP...
So, onto the venue then...
The 12 Bar Club is a wonderful venue. It's cavernous, dark, dank - just the kind of place made for smoking indoors - the kind of place that's gonna stink to high heaven before the year's out, unless all punters are issued with a can of deoderant on the way in and the last 50 years of wall-fag-filth-dirt are scraped away..
And the music??
Well, we arrived on the minute of Anton Barbeaus set. I'd been sent his shiny new album (out now on Shifty Disco) and enjoyed it..
Specifically, I like the kind and easy nature of his music. There's elements of the overly hippy woolly acoustic, but Barbeau doesn't annoy me like some other fluffies. His lyrics are better, his stage manner is fun. The band enjoy themselves. He's a good guy, I liked his style and so did the crowd...
For my sins, I missed most of Mr Fish. I was networking (important ideas, plans, parties, bullshit) But with the ladies hovering back towards Brighton before last orders, I took a seat on the balcony and saw him finish.
A man with a guitar. A man feeling the music, reminding me why I no longer play it and why I never should have done so to begin with...
So there...
 | Currently listening :
Automatic Door
By Anton Barbeau
Release date: By 16 October, 2007 |
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