I nearly landed myself in some very hot, sweet, chewy..... Urghh.... Legal water over the weekend.

Things started out rather pleasantly. I was going to see Martha Wainwright at the Northcote Social Club with my intelligent and attractive girlfriend Fiona*. We parked the car, had a cigarette, and headed into the venue. Unfortunately things began to go downhill from there.. The opening act was Josh Ritter, who performed some rather choice folksy numbers. The majority of the crowd sat on the floor for his act, except for a group of around four middle-aged lungers** who seemed completely oblivious to this and decided to stand.. Front-row, centre. When Josh finished, security asked the crowd to stand up, at which point the lunger collective finally cottoned on to what was happening. I imagine the exchange that followed went something like.. *grunt* "Everyone else was fuckin' sittin' down." "Fuck aye. Ya reckon we were in the way or some shit?" "Na.. Fuck that shit."

At this stage the UTK*** was still relatively low, and we were both having a good time. The real fun began when Ms. Wainwright stepped up onto the stage. No more than 10 minutes and 2 songs into the performance, some guy yells out "Hey Martha! Tell us a story about your father!" This is the man you want at your wedding.

For those who don't know, one of Martha's songs is called Bloody Motherfucking Asshole, which she wrote about her father. That comment pretty much set the tone for the rest of the evening, made only worse by a woman and her giggling cohorts up the back.. "You go girl!", "You rock Martha Wainwright!", "Have another drink girlfriend, you've earnt it!" It got to the point where I really started to feel sorry for her. But what can you do? 'Martha Wainwright savagely attacks overly supportive fan mid-concert.' Probably wouldn't go down too well..

I didn't get a good look at the culpret, but I can only imagine she looked something like this. I think what irritates me most about this person, and let's face it, every gig has at least one, is how self-interested their behaviour is. Whilst it appears that they're making an attempt to connect with the musician in their own idiotic way, it's actually got nothing to do with the performer at all.. This is a grand opportunity for them to show everybody how self-confident and witty they are. Fuck the musician! What's the deal with airplane peanuts? Anywho, the wash up is I could've quite easily murdered the woman and most likely have been met with a warm round of applause. Somehow, I resisted..

On a brighter note, Martha herself was sensational. If you've heard her album and think she has a powerful voice, it's nothing compared to her presence on stage. Granted she's no Duff, but really, who could be?


* who will most likely read this.
** People who are good for breathing.. That's about it.
*** Urge To Kill index.


By the way, I'd like to acknowledge Surlyboy as my inspiration for the footnotes. Send your abuse his way.

So, it's your birthday.. The sun is shining, birds are having sex with the bees (as I understand it, anyway), and for one shimmering day the world seems to effectively revolve around you, and cater personally to your happiness and fulfillment. Then your alarm goes off, and you realize that instead of floating aimlessly down a river, straw between your teeth, in something akin to a Tom Sawyer escapade, you have to work.. All day. And not just any work.. Your duty is to explain to people that unfortunately we already have 23 copies of that particular Jimmy Barnes album, so at this stage probably don't need to purchase another. What's that? No, we keep Eminem under E. Before you have a chance to locate the source of the odour that's been searing your nostril hairs for the past 10 minutes, a shrill, pre-pubescent voice attempting to sound deep and masculine rings out from across the store.. "Yous don't got 50 Cent!"

You guessed it, it's Dandenong.* And although these comments wouldn't be out of place on a street corner in the same area, I am in fact in a record store.

Now, I'm used to the blank expressions I receive when attempting to use words with more than three syllables, and I've definitely become accustomed to the alcoholic freedom that the local constabulary seem to condone.. But for some reason, today it all just seems a tad inconsiderate. I'm not asking for verbal coherance or even a forced, toothless smile.. I'd settle for basic bodily hygene. I suppose I shouldn't complain too much though.. I did find a deflated balloon stuffed in amongst our rap CDs.

Unfortunately the day is about to draw to a close.. Which is a shame, because I had big plans for that balloon. With some gaffa tape, a texta and some kind of mexican hat I could've had my own personal birthday Wilson! Young Tom would've been proud..

* If the behaviour described in this post seems somewhat foreign to you, I suggest you acquaint yourself with the rules.