ChunTales From The Gigs
July 7th 2009 05:23
Greetings Rock Voyagers,
For those of you who don’t know, I play the fool on bass guitar for three different bands. Over the past #$%!*$ years (trying not to show my age), I have played hundreds of gigs in a diverse range of groups. One of these bands played alongside some huge names and attained mild success. It was during my time with this band that I discovered the fringe benefits of rock’n’roll. Yes, I’m talking about the freebies, booze, drugs and sex offered to me in often, outrageous circumstances.
One of the highlights was at a show in Sydney back in the mid 90’s. We played the first night of a weekend folk festival. Our manager had scammed us on the bill by saying we were a blues outfit. Ha ha, what a joke. The only thing remotely blues about us was a twelve bar bass line, I ripped out on one of our songs. A bit apprehensive, we played our rehearsed set to a stoned, hippy crowd, turning feral. They were about to get hostile, so we needed to do something fast. Our lead guitarist started playing La Grange. The rest of us joined in. The crowd went wild. They wouldn’t let us go, so we played a ‘Stones’ cover that we all knew. Back stage, everyone was telling us how great we were, ‘even though I don’t like the other “shit” you played.’
It was back stage that I met ‘her’. She was an ageing folk singer from the 70’s and I gotta tell you, she still gave me the ‘orn. Anyway, I was on my way back to our room when a middle-aged woman approached me and told me that ‘JM’ wanted to see me right away. She gave me directions to her dressing room. I was both curious and flattered. I was a bit nervous, too, I might add. This chick was a huge star when I was growing up. I set off immediately.
I arrived at her door and knocked loudly. A soft, dulcet voice ushered me inside. Slowly closing the door behind me, I looked around. The only light in the room was from a lava lamp, so it took a couple of minutes for my eyes to fully focus on the surroundings. I was surprised to discover that this room was the same as ours, except for the décor and a few furnishings. ‘JM’ had obviously bought some of her own things with her.
I finally caught sight of ‘JM’ sitting in the corner of an L-shaped couch. She was leaning back with her legs sprawled out, lounging on the sofa. She told me to come over and sit down, patting the cushion next to her. I sat down, feeling a bit like Dustin Hoffman’s character in the film, ‘The Graduate’. She put out her hand and introduced herself. I accepted her hand and lamely shook it, wondering whether I should kiss it. She went on to tell me why she had asked to see me. It was then that things got very weird.
It turns out, I reminded her of Mickey, her first true love. She dressed me up in an old suit, a blonde wig and got me to undress her, while reciting poetry written by this Mickey dude. She then assumed various positions of yoga, while I attempted to recite her dead lover’s poems and shag her at the same time. It’s not easy, readers, to hold a book in one hand and try to narrate the words, whilst assuming unusual positions and engaging in such acts of pure physical activity. It was a laugh, though. I haven’t seen her since that night, but now one of her songs makes a whole lot more sense to me. Till next time, rockers, adios. Chun.
For those of you who don’t know, I play the fool on bass guitar for three different bands. Over the past #$%!*$ years (trying not to show my age), I have played hundreds of gigs in a diverse range of groups. One of these bands played alongside some huge names and attained mild success. It was during my time with this band that I discovered the fringe benefits of rock’n’roll. Yes, I’m talking about the freebies, booze, drugs and sex offered to me in often, outrageous circumstances.
One of the highlights was at a show in Sydney back in the mid 90’s. We played the first night of a weekend folk festival. Our manager had scammed us on the bill by saying we were a blues outfit. Ha ha, what a joke. The only thing remotely blues about us was a twelve bar bass line, I ripped out on one of our songs. A bit apprehensive, we played our rehearsed set to a stoned, hippy crowd, turning feral. They were about to get hostile, so we needed to do something fast. Our lead guitarist started playing La Grange. The rest of us joined in. The crowd went wild. They wouldn’t let us go, so we played a ‘Stones’ cover that we all knew. Back stage, everyone was telling us how great we were, ‘even though I don’t like the other “shit” you played.’
It was back stage that I met ‘her’. She was an ageing folk singer from the 70’s and I gotta tell you, she still gave me the ‘orn. Anyway, I was on my way back to our room when a middle-aged woman approached me and told me that ‘JM’ wanted to see me right away. She gave me directions to her dressing room. I was both curious and flattered. I was a bit nervous, too, I might add. This chick was a huge star when I was growing up. I set off immediately.
I arrived at her door and knocked loudly. A soft, dulcet voice ushered me inside. Slowly closing the door behind me, I looked around. The only light in the room was from a lava lamp, so it took a couple of minutes for my eyes to fully focus on the surroundings. I was surprised to discover that this room was the same as ours, except for the décor and a few furnishings. ‘JM’ had obviously bought some of her own things with her.
I finally caught sight of ‘JM’ sitting in the corner of an L-shaped couch. She was leaning back with her legs sprawled out, lounging on the sofa. She told me to come over and sit down, patting the cushion next to her. I sat down, feeling a bit like Dustin Hoffman’s character in the film, ‘The Graduate’. She put out her hand and introduced herself. I accepted her hand and lamely shook it, wondering whether I should kiss it. She went on to tell me why she had asked to see me. It was then that things got very weird.
It turns out, I reminded her of Mickey, her first true love. She dressed me up in an old suit, a blonde wig and got me to undress her, while reciting poetry written by this Mickey dude. She then assumed various positions of yoga, while I attempted to recite her dead lover’s poems and shag her at the same time. It’s not easy, readers, to hold a book in one hand and try to narrate the words, whilst assuming unusual positions and engaging in such acts of pure physical activity. It was a laugh, though. I haven’t seen her since that night, but now one of her songs makes a whole lot more sense to me. Till next time, rockers, adios. Chun.
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