After spending most of the day at rehearsal, during which we made quite a bit of progress and even had a look at The Crucifixion (which involves much wailing), I went off to St Kilda for the annual festival. God that’s an awkward sentence. But who are you to judge me? You’re not my English teacher! (If any of my past English teachers are reading this, I apologise profusely).
I met up with Josiah, who’d been there from earlier in the day with Dougal. Rather than waiting in line for an ATM for an eternity so that I could buy some “festival food” (a term which here means “food which is opportunistically overpriced”), we went instead to Grill’d, where I enjoyed a burger, fries and an EFTPOS facility (and we bumped into Coley, who complimented me on my brother). I also took a few photos around the place, including some from cake shops. But it’s late now, so I’ll just put up the one photo for the blog and then the rest later.
We made our way to the main stage to see You Am I (pictured). I thought that some of their songs were alright, but generally didn’t find them too interesting. I just think that if you’re not going to have anything interesting going on in terms of sound, harmonies, etc., you should at least have some catchy melodies. I would not be able to whistle one tune of theirs. Oh well. They weren’t that bad. And live music is like pizza: even if it’s not good, it’s not bad. And I took some photos, so it was worth it.
We were able to move forward after You Am I finished, so that we were right at the front for The Bamboos. I’d seen them once before at a concert in the Fitzroy Gardens, so I was really looking forward to seeing them again. Fortunately, we were right at the front (which, by the way, was excellent both for taking photos and for waving at the band). Unfortunately, we were next to a somewhat (read: very) intoxicated young lady who was dancing wildly (even when there was no music playing), grinding up against all things animate and inanimate, and very nearly causing grievous bodily harm. For some unknown reason, she turned around and tried to pull my and Josiah’s faces in together. When it was apparent that we weren’t really into that kind of thing, she grabbed me and attempted to lock lips. She was pretty strong for her size and blood alcohol content, but luckily my combination of upper neck strength (from Pilates!) and general tallness saved the day. She got bored and walked off.
The Bamboos were really good fun. I really love it when the musicians, especially the singer, are full of energy. It’s hard to explain, and I don’t just mean jumping around a lot, but really getting into it, especially when the music is so positive. The band members all took solos, which was great to hear, especially when the saxophonist pulled out a flute and busted out a solo. Fantastic. And lots of photos. Unfortunately, it was about this time that Drunkzilla returned, this time making an advance on one of the security men on the other side of the barrier. She had him by the collar and was pulling him in. The look in his eyes was one of abject terror, this kind of thing clearly not being in the job description.
In the end, some Asian guy decided to take advantage of the situation and place his arms subtly around her (note to all: subtlety is a virtue not required when dealing with the intoxicated), and they were pashing within minutes. Happy Valentine’s Day! (Meanwhile, Dougal was being chatted up by some woman, but that’s another story). We all looked rather disgustedly at him, especially since he looked so pleased with himself (bitch please). It was about this time that the police were called in to deal with a bunch of rowdies, who seemed to be moshing, performing what Leo once informed me was called “The Circle of Death” (who moshes to funk/soul?). I’ve never seen a festival crowd cheer for the police before, but I guess there’s a first for everything.
We bumped into some more of Josiah’s friends on the way back and talked to them during the walk to the tram. It was at this point I witnessed another inebriate, running with quite some speed, trip over a concrete curb. I asked him if he was alright and he replied that he was “sweet as” and sprinted off. How bizarre. We bid them farewell and took the train back. Josiah and I sang Moving Out by Billy Joel quite loudly, but unfortunately nobody joined in. What a pity. On the upside, we got to rock out to Uptown Girl and some Led Zeppelin when I gave him a lift home. Sweet as.