Sunday, September 11, 2011

Post coi backspace backspace backspace gig

(it still makes me think of a horse and cart more than it does music)

It was like that line from shakespeare.
Something along the lines of and all englishmen abed will think themselves accursed they were not here.
That is how any Augie March fan would feel if they knew what they had missed out on.

It was great.

I sighed a lot
big heartfelt happy sighs

you know how in the shower everything sounds perfect?  It was like the room was a giant shower.  The best eva. 

Apple of my Eye
The Cold Acre
forget the title, but one of my favourites from Glimjack - chorus:  Every morning a new sunrise
The Slant
Here Comes the Night
in celebration for his little sister Sally's birthday and her not being able to afford to come to Brisbane and therefore going to Port Douglas Instead - Bottle Baby
Torpor and Spleen
Turn on you (which he said was his favourite from the album - which is lovely for me cause it means he played it and it is one of the songs from this album that I do tend to hit repeat on, along with the new sunrise [the name will probably come to me as I am drifting off to sleep on the plane this afternoon] and long pigs)
One Crowded Hour
There is no such place
Encore:  The night is a Blackbird

Gorgeous old building with battery powered fake candles scattered about, which flickered realisticly - ish.  On approach could not believe I had the right building.  Then saw little signs.  Followed the arrows.  Instructions to walk through the gardens and up the stairs. 

They turned the light out nearly ten minutes before Mike Noga came on.  I tried to just sit quietly but couldn't take it and got my mobile phone out to light my book, so I can't say whether it was his arse my face was inches away from or ... you have no idea how much I wish I hadn't been looking down at my book as he brushed past my chair on the way to the stage.

A rather impressive spill of wine by one of the leather coated trio in front of me.  Battled the urge to rush to the bathroom for paper towels to clean up the potential slip and trip.  Have spent too long in a Safety Department.

Have been thinking my libido was dead till the ever so delightful Mr Luscombe started playing his guitar.  By golly.  Fuckin' gee wizz he ain't half awesome. {8:12 am next day reads back wot wrote and smacks wrist for such effuscive and blatant sexual objectification - just because some one is pretty and talented does not mean I am allowed to leer at them, I tell myself - bad sammy - go write out lines}

Kept chanting to myself to remind myself "don't be the last one clapping" - cause one can get a bit carried away sometimes, ey?

Possibly we could have done without the discussion of human feces as inbetween song chit-chat, but actually they can do no wrong and therefore, obviously, the human feces was absolutely essential and there should be more of it.

I hate to say it, but it was well worth missing Doctor Who for.

{8:12 am next day:  free internet at hotel - watched it on iview - it was awesome too}

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