…the beautiful art of sound.

Published in small print

Even though all the gigs listed in the Groove Guide are on the internet with greater detail, I always make a point of stopping by Burger Fuel or the Rock Shop for a printed copy. I like to tuck it next to my month-old lotto ticket and floating coin in my bag; that is, on the rare, but growing occasions that I carry a bag at all.

The large disappointment that comes with this entire ordeal, however, is the fact that they mispelt my name on the photo page – sure they got it right under “Contributors” elsewhere, but, who on earth spells “Amanda” wrong?! I actually expected my last name to be mispelt, as usual, but I guess stupid things like this always have a tendency of happening to me. Alas, this will not be the end of my life on print.

I’m a thief, you can tell by my fingers

It’s almost 2am, for what seems like the thousandth day in a row. I’m in dire need of sleep. I don’t think I’ve slept before 2am for over two weeks and it’s getting ridiculous. My body doesn’t understand what keeps my mind awake so late into the best hours of the twenty-four.

First period A Level English was turbulent this morning. I would have said that I don’t remember the last time I felt so upset via txt/phone messages, except just then I recalled a certain psychotic ex-boyfriend. Regardless, an issue arose which I honestly should have thought through carefully – I mean for goodness sake my mother’s a photographer, I should know better than to be the source to two publications’ photos at the same concert. Sure, I was approached by the band in regards to the second one, but I should have known better. Talk about overwhelmed. The rest of gig pics are here though.

Thankfully that’s behind me now, and I have one last weekend to enjoy with the imminent thought of exams and auditions and tournament week hanging over my head; I don’t think that thoroughly qualifies as “enjoy” except I plan on getting mildly intoxicated enough at a gig I’m photographing this coming Saturday. I would plug it and stick up a poster and all… but no one locally relevant reads my blog except for the odd friend so what’s the point?

Anyway, I’m up here at Cheese on Toast now:

A laugh and a metaphor

My friend showed me this off failblog, it was just so funny I couldn’t not post it –>

I don’t have anything of interest to record other than the following:

1/ I’m going to Clap Clap Riot in town on Friday night, and I will be photographing for Cheese on Toast – super excited.

2/ Very likely also that I will be seeing the Handsome Furs later this month.

3/ I can’t believe I’ve just renewed my domain for the… 3rd time? So that’s like, Happy 4th Birthday (soon) to StaticImage.net.

4/ Lastly, I just wrote this – any guesses what it’s about? Someone thought it was a vibrator, before I wrote the 3rd part… it’s not, haha.

Steel-bodied, so velvet,
In your hands, you see through
t’Wind the time, start at centre,
Can you, can you, develop her?

Hardened core, so ice cold,
Turn her on, let light in
Uncap the blinds, turn the ring,
Can you, un-blur everything?

Smooth-cased, so focused,
Snap in place, the view you see
Construe, the picture you prefer,
Can you, can you, capture her?

Shaky Hands

It’s taken me a week but I’ve finally managed to sort through, resize and upload my gig photos from last weekend: Cut Off Your Hands at the Ellen Melville Hall, supported by (in chronological order) Brand New Math, Oh Mercy, Bionic Pixie and Collapsing Cities. I’ve attached some to this post, but the rest are here.

I remember years ago when I used to complain that all decent gigs were R18 – and indeed they were – everytime a band I was keen on was playing, I had to check everywhere to find out whether or not there was an All Ages section separate to the bar at the venue, or if they were going to forgo admitting youngsters altogether. At the time, older friend had said “You’ll be grateful and understand why gigs are R18 once you turn 18”, but I never fully understood until I was at Ellen Melville last Saturday night. Overall the gig was great though – $15 for 5 bands, now that’s seriously impressive. I would’ve paid more than that just to see COYH alone. Kudos to Savvy for making it non-profit, with COYH shirts going at $15 also (I’m currently wearing mine, minus the hems that I tore off).

The real downer for me was more the fact that, for once, I felt quite old at a gig, and felt like I had to be nice to the people around me. Upon arrival at the square on High Street, I had a 16 year old asking if I could buy her cigarettes. I really didn’t like the idea of her approaching anymore strangers, and there were a lot of dodgy men lurking around. Later, whilst hogging my prime position in the front row just in front of the Ampeg bass rig (I want to play through one of those again, they’re truly amazing!), I came across a boy behind me that looked no older than 12 or 13 – I wasn’t even allowed to the movies down at the local mall that late without strict parental guidance to and from the carpark, let alone at a concert in the city when I was that age! The point was, I felt truly bad during every changeover when I’d turn around and sit on the edge of the stage, looking at the rest of the audience behind me. I guess I haven’t changed much in the sense that I’m still the over-enthusiastic girl right at the front in a band shirt, although I’d always hated the taller, older people in front of me, on the occasions where I couldn’t get in the first row; and ironically, I was now one of them. I guess you can’t really win. But I felt bad having to nudge people half my height (and looked half my age) out of my way, so was a lot gentler than usual. Gah.

I was going to do a brief review of the gig, but I seriously can’t be bothered right now, seeing as I have A Level English and History essays to write. On a completely different note, last night I was down at Cassette 9, and I’m thoroughly annoyed at my lack of sleep (and therefore judgement), because I’d chosen the easier route to town – via ferry – which meant that I never got to see Shocking Pinks because I had to catch it back! It didn’t help that 2x teapots and 2x beers didn’t get me tipsy enough to not feel disappointed; and my Long Island Iced Tea was also a denouement: so many people have recommended it to me, but finally I tried one last night, and for some reason I could hardly taste anything that went in it – for some obsurd reason, it tasted like a bourbon and coke. A $15 bourbon and coke at that. Ouch.


Treat me like your mother

(This didn’t post yesterday, not sure why)
I don’t know how to let you go… Or even if I should keep you.

Driving home in the dark at 6am this morning felt bizarre. The streets were mostly empty, with the odd couple in their fluro-reflective clothing going out for an early morning stroll and a few cyclists getting in my way. I love the night. It feels so liberating, like I could do anything I wanted – and often I do. With !!! and then The Kills blasting through my factory speakers in my car, the few kilometres home felt much, much further. If only my hobbies weren’t so expensive, I’d invest in better car speakers – you know, so the bass doesn’t distort? That kills me; being a bass player and all, I can’t even turn it up loud in my car. It was so easy to double the speed limit, especially on the downhill slide home. Luckily it was a Wednesday morning? Though these days the last thing I need is another speeding ticket.

I’m super annoyed that my laptop/usb ports are messed up. Not only do I have to resort to using mum’s computer at the moment, but I also can’t sync my ipod. Which is such a pain because I finally got Horehoud by The Dead Weather. And it’s HOT. Signature Jack White guitar sound, with Alison Mosshart’s snappy attitude in her voice and words… QOTSA’s guitarist pretty much takes a backstage, but his riffy-style does shine through at times. I can’t stop listening to it.

Play dumb, play dead play straight! Time to manipulate.