I've always suspected that all serious, shuffling, indie fringe wearing musos secretly yearn to be the bloke out of Aqua whose job it was to say 'C'mon Barbie, let's go party.' Some days, fluff is what you need. Sometimes, you want to get on a roller coaster and scream profanities. There are days when the only sensible course of action is to cover yourself in glitter and go 'rrrrraaaaarrrrrrrgh.'
Basically, I went to see Kiss last night and I bloody loved it. I guess that's me off the indie roll call for, like, ever. Bubblegum pop/rock played really really loud. Spinal Tap goes panto. Pyrotechnics. Indoor fireworks. Men in their 60s whose job it is to dress up at monsters and prowl in high heels, pointing at people.
It'll be a day or two before my eardrums recover. Which is unfortunate, as I'm off to two other gigs over the weekend - Alabama 3 and Hawksley Workman. I think they'll both be somewhat quieter. This evening, I'm recovering by watching Bill Oddie talking about crayfish.
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