A man in ruby red takes a few minutes to lick the bald scalp of a man who looks on with a straight enough face. His chewing gum offsets the discomfort expressed in his throbbing temple veins. Smack smacking the jaws, the gum chewing more and more exaggerated. He's trying to keep still, cool, but his eyes want to bug out. And then the spotlight moves off the forehead now in a waterfall of sweat.
Do not take directions from Jason Mraz if you see him on a scooter. He'll lend you some, but they're not necessarily going to be where you want to end up. Peace be with you in your new found journey.
The difference between a cockroach and a guitar pick splashing in grapefruit juice is hard to split. Of all the drinks in all the comedy clubs in all the States, this Australian comedy band from Sydney ends up washing their pick in this one.
Rain on the city streets, people splish-splashing around and heading long into each other with their umbrellas down and for the charge. Partial shock and slight dismay at the fact that Utopia Records is no more. Or at least no longer in the underground location at the foot of the escalators into the George Street cinemas.
Genius. Staples right through the envelope and on to pierce the corners of both tickets. For safety, for security, for making sure the little tokens keep together like all good waffles should. Woman in the vest does things the hard way, yanking them every angle, forgoing any decision to pluck out the legs.
Kiosk are on stage first.
Dead lights on the main show off noodles and lines drawn in a Java 3D program. Off the lip of the stage is the console operator, a George Khut. Connected via a chest strap to the laptop, the man breathes in and out to quiet suggestions such as "take sips of air" and "breathe in hard." Swimming in and out and out and in, the lines represent the constrictions and relaxations of the diaphragm, as best as they can relay the information. A relaxing visual feast of nothing, the start of the Song Company's production of Drawing Breath is enough to knock out those eager for a nap.
Thanks to extensive recent press coverage we all know that Trent Reznor is a recovering alcoholic. I don't know if this was the reason that no alcoholic drinks were allowed in the Hordern, but if it was, then Trent you are a very spiteful man! I can forgive you though because you are also very talented and because I had enough time to guzzle down my drink before you came onstage... however I would have liked to have gotten drunker and you stopped me Trent... you stopped me!
There is a funeral or a party for Goths out the back. Everyone's in black. Apart from one pair of legs, it's an all dour sensation as the ensemble step out one after the other. First one, then two and then a flock of seagulls.
Easily flustered by traffic on the way in, all cares and woes were lost once Cake took the stage. That unmistakable guitar filter that they use filled my brain and the rest of the night I watched in more than moderate awe.
In 1995 The Chemical Brothers released Exit Planet Dust the album that drove the final nail into the coffin of the already ailing grunge era and turned the musical community's attentions firmly toward electronica. Exit Planet Dust was a significant album for many as at that time electronica was widely considered as a shallow and soulless genre.
The roulette table captures money as a result of a miscalculated guess on even to show red 15. Time taken reads a full minute with half an hour to spare for the walk up the spiral of stairs and stairs to the Grand Circle level of Star City's Lyric Theatre. We Will Rock You posters cover the windows and walls, a crowd gathers too close to each other breathing about as the call for seats is made. Melbourne's showing is looping on a few of the televisions bracketed to the wall and We Will Rock You gently buzzes the air.
The first band of the night that I saw was a delightful little groop by the name of Arcade. Ah, Arcade...
