I returned home from Bristol earlier in the week to chaos, carnage and a host of missed deadlines and urgent, unfinished projects incl. my wife's birthday...
So, anyway, a v. belated Big Thanks to the Sunburned Hand of the Man posse and the Venn Fest. Cru for asking us play, and for the kind words and encouragement from assorted Sunburned-ers - they really are top geezahs.
And thanks to the usual crew of Swindon/Bristol dudes n bloggerfolk who've supported us since the very beginning (er, last november? - Ed.) - yr friendly faces n ugly mugs are much appreciated, even tho we're usually in pre-gig headless-chicken mode.
Before we played, I snuck upstairs onto the main-deck for a couple minutes me-time, and my-oh-my: the weather was fucking amazing...
I'd forgot - despite living up here for a few years - how lovely the Bristol quayside was. Dunno, maybe it was that tinglin' livin'-inside-the-moment thing. Whenever I do something like this, I haveta get away for a few minutes and breathe some air - soak in the otherness of where I am; breathe in that time and place, file it for future reference...memories, memories...I need 'em just to survive....
Despite assorted pre-show equipment malfunctions we maganged to acquit ourselves fairly honourably, I think. Still only our 4th show, tho'. Shame the bloke w/ the ginger afro disappeared - I was gagging to put a mid-gig bone-hex on him. Cloudboy and I had a irrationalist-glossolia face-off 2 minutes in - our first since our first gig - where we turned into a pair of dadaist-gibbons inna Ubu Roi stylee. Nice work if'n you can gerrit.
"You've gone all daaaaarrrrk...." said Doppelganger outside, afterwards (no he really does talk like that, but in a transliminal Post-Essex burr) - "You weren't that dark last time." Well, that's what equipment malfunctions do for ya.
I kinda half-missed Mick Flowers Band due to equipment pack-up activities and a crafty fag-break. Tho what I saw was ace; and I really loved his film - loads better than the liteweight smear n smudgage I'd flung together from left-overs in the fridge like a visual ohmmlette for lunch.
A-bove: Sarah O'S and Ron aka Rzz-e-Bzz (??) kicked up some tasty warped n twisty freelance electroniczzz shit that I think Gutta woulda really dug.
AB-bove: John and Rob aka The Clear People : totally different to the last time I saw them (but - hey! - wouldn't have it any other way...); this time they opted for a timestretched Post-Beatnik Euro-Dr. Phibes approach, followed by a good 'ol fashioned drum-kit and guitar rawk-out that referenced b/th Sabbaff and Negative Attitooooood.
(Doppelganger accidentally joins Ice Bird Spiral for all of 5 minutes for a secret show in the car-park, but can't quite get the hang of that whole lurkin' in the semi-shadows malarky. "The sunlight! It's toooo briiiight - aaaaagh!")
To my eternal shame I missed Flying Lotus, but, actually, I don't care 'cos I went out for beers (or gins, in my case) in a *real* pub w/ Doppelganger and had a great time catching up. Seems like we both like going to, erm, 'talks'...y'know, slide-shows and lectures held by local clubs n societies n stuff - excepts that Dopps actually likes to put them on, not just go to them as a punter...I like bat-walks and local geographic/travel societies that show slides of arctic expeditions or moth capture sessions; but D does blitzkrieg dissections of Marx n Freud in back-rooms to an audience of 12. I am sooo in awe. Fuck, I love all this stuff; it's loads better than watching telly. Don't laugh at us - we do have lives as well, you know, but I really do think that local hobby-clubs are the way to go.
Then we walked round Bristol...
I really didn't like The Heliocentrics, I'm afraid, so we went upstairs on The Thekla and talked about our dads n stuff 'til it got dark.
"It's a shame that Gutta isn't here," I said, and 5 seconds later he walked thru the door onto the upper deck, which woulda been really weird except I think we both half-expected something like that to happen. And so we (Nick and I, mainly) talked about synth patch-leads and Robert Palmer's "Clues" album 'til Doppelganger nodded off and slid into the river and it was time to catch Sunburned's main set.
I didn't take any decent photos of S/Burn cos I was too busy dancing.