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.

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