I wrote this post on Sunday night whilst having a few drinks. Consequently, it may be a bit hard to read. From Monday up until this morning, our Internet has been down (thanks Telkom) so I’ve only gotten around to posting this now.
As I sit here on this extremely chilled Sunday night – vodka and orange juice in hand – trying desperately to remember the forgotten weekend memories like sand slipping mercilessly through my weathered fingers, I’m sobered by the thought that if things keep going on like this, I may just die a premature death.
I’m not fazed though. This weekend has been crazy; I’m not quite sure whether it’s been good or extremely bad (for my health).
Let me just warn you now, that the letter “T” on my keyboard is currently experiencing a mild case of stage-fright, so if my senences lack he proper spelling and/or “T” placemen, I’s purely because of ha.
There is a lot to be said, but conveying it in words is pretty hard.
First off, I apologize for not making posts in a while; co-blog-author, Mister Corleone, has been making regular entries instead, because, unexplainably, ever since I finished my contract at MXit, and since I’ve had time to write, I just… haven’t. While we’re on the subject, my brother in arms Dax Frost has caught the blogbug now and has hooked: www.daxfrost.com – technology, music, gaming and life. Check it out.
I played at Corner Bar in Durbanville on Friday. The last time I played Corner Bar was a gig with Change of View (years back) and as I should’ve expected, the venue has changed quite a bit since I last was there. Not to go into great detail, but let’s just say they’ve added a bar or two to their line-up as well as a considerable amount of good sound equipment. Kudos.
Unfortunately, I am not implying that the gig went well; no, as per-usual in a NFM set, there were a few compromising factors that took over and made the gig somewhat less-cool than it should have been.
Firstly, I think technology has a personal vendetta against me; considering NFM primarily consists of me, a guitar, drums and a back-up band named “laptop”, one would think it would be easy to set-up/soundcheck an act like mine. This apparently isn’t true. I always end up making at least five to ten pilgrimages to the sound-guy’s desk and back to relay to him/her (mostly hims) that the sound I’m getting is only mono, and that it should really be sorted out…
The three guilty parties from Friday night; but everything always works out, and after a few shake-sessions and nerve-trips plus a few drinks, everything always works out.
I ended up lining the guitar straight through the amp, and trying to make the best of the (overdriveless) overdrive that the amp offered, which wasn’t actually that bad 🙂 I must, however, give mad props to Moshpit for calmly accepting my (now to be expected) “punctuality”. I think I arrived about 2 hours late. I’m not yet familiar with Durbanville and so had gotten considerably lost.
So that all happened.
After Corner Bar we were all amped to check out the Grand Opening of Springboks in Somerset West Main Road. What can I say? The place is wicked.
We arrived at around 01:00am and decided we needed a strong drink to keep our vampire souls awake… either that or blood.
Springboks in Somerset West, although unfinished and slightly shabby looking at the moment, still seems as if it may be a strong contender for just about every other Somerset West venue, be it a live or undead (live band vs. DJ) venue. It was packed to the walls, making the task of drink buying harder than hell, but all the more worth it. After a few drinks and some idle conversation we headed home to rest our heavy heads.
I awoke on Saturday morning to the hairy man-chest of fellow house-mate Nick Kuiper, who was trying in vain to wake me up from my vodka-induced sleep. A shower and an hour later we were on our way to Paul Bothners to play an impromptu gig with fellow musician and free-soul, Heather Waters.
It went fucking well considering our state of well-being; and what better way to follow a 10:00am gig than an 11:00am drink? A trip down to Old Bridge straight afterwards under the pretense that “we parked the car there…” was just what we needed.
Later that day we left for Durbanville as there was a dfrost gig going on in those parts that evening, and we had been kindly offered a place, courtesy of the Durban Villains (see this) to chill out and relax before the gig; which is not exactly what happened. We (Ian, Lourens, Kylie, Kim, Kirstie and I) instead made a mission down to Tyger Valley and basked in the tranquility of consumerism, where after we deduced that Spur was the flavor of the day.
Later that evening (after we had mentally, physically and emotionally prepared ourselves) we got in the car, equipment-in-tow and sped off to try and find what later proved to be more elusive than Big Foot… Plaasteater is literally situated in the middle of nowhere; okay, not quite, but it’s somewhere along some never-ending road between Kuilsriver and Stellenbosch. For directions check here.
Plaasteater is huge. It is exactly what its name entails. Farm Theatre. Two live music venues in one; outdoor and indoor, the former, often host to relaxed acoustic sessions or afternoon performances, and the latter providing a grittier, night-time vibe. But the sound (provided) at The Plaasteater is what I really want to impress upon you. They have an impressive rig setup and a sound guy who clearly knows what’s cracking.
Dfrost were playing the indoor stage. The clock hit god-knows-what and it finally came our time to man the stage. The performance was a crazy ride as always, with a few hiccups (literally) here and there, but all in all, sweet. We walked outside drenched in sweat from overexertion and some much-needed exercise, deciding unanimously that we should play there again. Quite soon.
After stealthily kidnapping a life-size bear used for some-or-other brand of vodka promotion (not Russian Bear, we checked), and saying farewell to the Frosties, we headed off to Café V in Edwards street.
Switching between atmospheres like that is strange. One minute you’re surrounded by nothing but vast plains of… well, nothing, listening to the echoey sound of the band following you playing from outside the venue, and the next you’re surrounded by hundreds of scene-kids wearing glowing neon colours and dancing to yet another remix of ‘Put Your Hands Up For Detroit’. It was a lot of fun. We ended up staying there until around 3am before deciding to end our travels at Kirstie’s house, where we would be staying for the night.
When we arrived, we hauled out some duvets; some drinks and a Twister mat, and decided to take drinking games to a whole new level outside in the drive-way. After an “I never” tournament that uncovered some revealing truths (cough-cough Kylie) and a Twister match that encouraged some unique positions, we all pretty much passed out.
Making our way out the next day was one filled with heartfelt goodbyes and a series of carvings earnestly engraved onto newly named, Jesus Manbearpig the Bear, by Miss Kylie Holly Day. After safely securing the large animal on top of the car by means of hi-tech gadgetry and… rope, we drove off, back towards the Wild West and home.
The rest is all a little blurry… or maybe I’m just a little lazy. Either way, ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together in welcoming our new ET resident: Jesus Manbearpig.