We had a meeting beforehand in the pub next door, or perhaps a shouting might be a better description. It was very noisy; we have a secret plan, and luckily the noisy people were broadcasting and not receiving, so they didn't find out what it is.
This gig was the launch of an album by the band Dr Razzu, with Asbo Derek double-headlining. The Asbos started with a spot-on parody of The Double Deckers theme tune that segued into Gaudete, alongside a bewildering array of synchronised hand and arm movements and layers of innuendo that would have challenged the most Frankie Howerdest person in the audience. Meanwhile, I struggled into the knitted woollen extra-small Santa dress that stretched to fit a medium/large person in the way that only a Primark woollen can, then hopped up to do Christmas Queen. Bloody good job the backing vocals were bellowed with such spirit. I forgot an entire chorus, and an entire line (Jem shouted 'Christmas' at the top of his voice and disguised the error). Someone filmed it and thankfully I later had the opportunity to beg her not to put it on Youtube.
If I could sing it without dribbling, I'd do a kitchen version. Watch this space or perhaps, don't.
The Asbos were on top form. They had a superb prize or two on offer; a Charles'n'Diana lavender pomander complete with real lavender from Mark's garden for power mincing most mincingly, and an obscene tie that invited the observer to kiss the mistletoe (with downward-pointing arrow), that was won by the best crook-of-the-elbowist. What was alarming about the tie was that on the way to the gig on the train, I'm convinced that I saw a straight-looking businessman wearing one tucked into his jacket.
Oh, Christmas, what you make us do!
Their piece-de-resistance was the crimping of Brian Blaney's hair while he was actually drumming. Brian patiently whacked the skins while his entire barnet was singed into a series of frills, sending gusts of burnt-hair air out into the audience and beyond. The jury's out as to whether this constituted onstage abuse, but Brian got his own back by shouting 'get on with it' at the back of Jem's head as Jem was being particularly voluble. However, Jem uses the fact that his ears point forwards rather than backwards to ignore Brian when he shouts, as do all musicians in a group with a drummer. Having heard Brian's pleas being ignored on other occasions, I am beginning to understand the frustrations of the pitter-patterer at the back of the band, I think. (Jem's words, not mine).
There was a new song, based on an email from the Buddhist Centre itemising all the lost property that had amassed there. The new song struck a tremendous chord in my heart, because the gutter fell off the front of my house this week due to the weight of the snow, and during the thaw a lone beige flip-flop appeared next to the fallen gutter on the pavement. This was oddly disturbing; It's amazing what people don't realise they've lost.
It was fun. I am glad I went, and big thanks to Asbo Derek for inviting me along and singing too.
I also enjoyed the part of Dr Razzu's set that I watched. They are a power-punk band, really- very tightly rehearsed and both the guitarist and bass player have great voices. They have just self-released an album on Bandcamp with all of their songs from the last ten years, which sounds like a great project: self-archiving is the way to go.
Unforchly, I had to leave early to get back to the frozen wastes of north London. It takes three hours (less if I drive, but I fell asleep once at the wheel and will not drive again without a co-pilot). I'd forgotten to eat anything apart from beans on toast for lunch, and by King's Cross I was ravenous. That sandwich on the platform in the wee small hours was possibly the most scrumptious thing I have eaten all year.
Toodle-pip!
No comments:
Post a Comment