Wail

The reality of me playing this much?

Its just me running round like an ass clown with a staple gun bossing Rickards around ,bless him, before doors open at 8,wanting the world,well a shitty corner of Sydney anyway,to see how amazing my friends are and how bright they shine up on the over-decorated stage.

Tables covered in silver and gold.Candles catching the mirror balls set around them in little clusters of light.Everyone shadowed and shaded to perfection and me stumbling around in my grey suede Stevie Nicks boots,skintight jeans and a vintage 1981 REO Speedwagon tee-shirt.What can I say? When it comes to style I slam-dance where angels fear to tread.

Garlands of flowers and cherries drip from the fabric adorned ceiling.A tacky tent in a desert of cool.If I can tell you a thousand stories tonight will you let me live? On the serape covered table to my right ,silver framed pictures of some of my saints lit by candles caught in glass.The beaded curtains sway in front of the speakers and the back bar is open for business once again.

The room looked muy lush tonight and so many of my beautiful club kids showed up and crowded the floor in front of the fussy stage that it brought a tear to my eye.People are showing up every week and it is blowing my mind.Jess and co opened the night with great aplomb to be followed by my band mate Marcus de Pasquale who made everybody’s jaw drop with his obscene abundance of talent and humility.Blackie takes to the stage and a full house which is where he should always be on both counts.Then me with my foot in my mouth and my heart counting the minutes out on the San Andres fault line….

And I sang and hit bum notes that made me wince.Made a few people laugh and felt my stomach threaten to evacuate several times over the course of the show.I set  up the stage so it looks like my old shed so I feel safe and I can soar.The intimacy of these shows and the bonding between the audience and artist is like nothing that I have even seen before and I want to up the ante every week.

I think this means that I need to go back to the dollar store and buy another 3 beaded curtains.Oh.And more fairy lights…..

I am only just holding on right now and to a fat lot of sweet fuck all at that.I am going to hang with Miss Emma tomorrow night.I need to keep moving and spin at a high and blinding intensity because I know upon re-entry if the gods are not on my side,I shall explode.And to say that I don’t think that the gods even know who I am at this point let alone being on my side is a staggering understatement of colossal size and magnitude.Just sayin’….I don’t cry, I sob.I know that we all reap what we sow and so forth but…great .Now I have “Perfect day” by Lou Reed playing on the internal i-pod in my head,but I am so damn afraid of the outcome.

“Shit scared” as they say in this corner of the world.

What happens next? And the big question is will we survive?

So for now I will give thanks .Thanks to all the people who pay on the door,week in and week out to see me wail so that I don’t ever have to grow up.Thanks to my big brother for dedicating his new song to me while I sat on the stairs and had a sneaky cry.To my old drummer Mikey for being there and always picking up where we leave off.Thanks to every one in the audience who indulged me with stadiums worth lighter action when I sang “Shivers” by Nick Cave and The boys next door.

These are the moments that buffer me though the crap of the other twenty hours of the day.I feel like a stain right no,so out of focus and ill defined but this is my clarity,this is my gilded palace of sin,this is the honky-tonk highway that leads me back to scant grace and I know for a fine tuned fact that I would be fucked without it.

Why wear this much eye make up? So that I have to think twice before crying my eyes out at every show of course.

I have to keep moving.I have to look at what I have not what I don’t have.

And I need to get some more songs into my fucking set pronto.