Yes, Saturday was the day the bigger band got together. It was ok. A lot of moving parts and some of it sounded great, but I think I prefer the power trio. There’s more interesting stuff happening in that. When you’ve got extra keyboards and guitar, it sounds muddy to me, but what do I know? Some people probably think having 20 musicians on stage is great. I don’t. I I draw the line at three at this stage, or on that stage.
It’s all given me a slight headache today, which is no surprise because it went for three fucking hours! That’s about 2 hours more than a normal rehearsal. Poor Rick the drummer showed up late and had to wait out in the cold for three songs before anyone heard him knocking on the door.
I’ll probably post some video of this extravaganza later this week, if I can manage it. The version of “Let Elvis Free” sounded like Miles Davis meets the Hawaiian Wedding song, but everyone gets to play a showboat solo in it, so maybe I’ll post that. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed it and will probably do it again sometime.
Saturday was also Australia Day and with it the usual “Invasion Day” hateful bullshit. Just stop it already.
Personally I would kick these mongrels out of the country with an airdrop into international waters without a parachute, but then I’m not cucked into oblivion by the police state that runs things down there.
The more I see of this shit, the less I want to go there.
Of course the police in Adelaide will the take the side of the terminally stupid premier in Adelaide and arrest “Australian nationalists” who disagree with the state sanctioned Anti-Australia “survival day”. It’s so hard to survive on free housing and government handouts your whole life I know. The rest of the population have it easy. They just have to go to work and cough up their hard earned money to pay for it all.
Unless the demographics have radically changed the New York Post hasn’t been to Australia apparently.
Over at the BBC, Nick Cave has become a grandpa and seems to have ditched the black, edgy goth motif that he has existed on for almost ever. “He said his greatest joy comes “from my family and from my wife, one aspect of my family that it’s difficult to exaggerate how beautiful this is that I have a little grandson who’s like, seven months old”. That’s nice. No doubt there are other contenders for “Prince of Darkness” in the wings now that Nick’s gone soft in the head. Don’t worry kids.
Wangaratta
He’s evolving into something else. He’s just done a BBC “Desert Island Discs” show. I’m going to have a listen. “He’s one of the most highly regarded story tellers in music today”….”His recent songs are about life, loss, faith and fear.” After skipping through Nick’s favorite songs I’d rather not comment, but I will. They explain a lot. It’s all very uninspiring as far as I’m concerned.
You could probably come up with the same predictable set of “iconic” records by asking any random wanna be junkie tottering around the streets of St Kilda in 1983. “I heard so and so (some old black guy) singing and thought that’s what I’d like to sound like.” Nobody has ever come up with that revolutionary idea except about five million other white singers who haven’t got a clue how to use their own God given voice to sing.
At least he didn’t declare that serial sex pest, pervert and boring narcissist, Chuck Berry invented Rock and Roll, which is the usual Road to Damascus for just about every mediocre rock star. The poor bloke seems to be searching for something. Wangaratta will probably do that to you. I wish him well.
Nick likes Johnny Cash. That’s nice.