WOLVES AT THE DOOR
when the wolves are at the door / the sheep go out the window..
when the wolves are at the door / we send the lambs to the slaughter..
we dress the wolves in sheeps clothing / we send the wolves into battle..
we send the wolves wielding silencers to silence the lambs and to devour all the cattle..
lamb roasts spinning, rotating, endlessly debating, grinning thru bared teeth..
the wolves roam from coast to coast making the most out of all the lies that never seem to cease..
lightly toasted brain cells floating in the flotsam and jetsam.. fleecing me for all they're worth.. water causing my woolen head to shrink 5 sizes with instructions to dryclean only.. the food poisonings in the balony.. its just like matrimony.. I get nose bleeds from the thought of it all..
arms dead swinging and dragging, banging against the door frames.. numb to the sharp contrasts in temperature and numb to the sharp stabbing pain.. nothing but dementia frozen in liquid nitrogen only to shatter in the rain.. unable to speak the language.. blind to all your signs.. fish gulping blankly and flipping on dry land.. if your fish are dead.. my fish are flushed factory line down the tiolet with false hopes of success..
white wine with fish, red wine with lamb and all this beer just helps me to begin to understand.. we make the bacon bits swarm and fly like a tiny tornado of leaves only to scatter to the 4 winds like my kidney to thieves.. tubs of ice.. splice and dice hoping to make sense of the scattered fragments of my mind's device..
the wolves at the door are seeping thru the floor..
the wolves at the door are here to even the score..
yup.. weeks of insomnia makes you write really colourful things..
send all answers, explanation, psychobabble and dope cookie recipes in a self addressed envelope to "119 FICTIONAL FRITZELBLEEN AVENUE, ASTEROID FIELD 6, NEW JERSEY".. and I'll tell ya if you've won a prize.. but seriously.. that weird shit about the wolves in the beginning? I've gotta put that in a song.. that shit's platinum dawg!
yeah, fukkit, who reads the preamble shit in me weekend posts anywaze.. look at the damn photos already, you know you wanna!
and now we sift thru the curbside rubbish, past the newspapers, past the banana skins, beer bottles, empty shotgun shells and the plastic packaging in search of the wildly elaborate truth of what passed by this ere weekend of Spoz..FRIDAY NIGHT
originally planned to see SWEEPER at the CRANKA.. wuz rather keen to catch up with these lunatics after their extended hiatus in studio land.. wuz wonderin wot new songs they would cook up.. wuz wondering if SHANE would drink his own weight in beer rider again.. wuz wondering if even the cranka's legendary beer rider would be up to that task.. wuz wondering if I could challenge him to a drinking contest.. wuz wondering if I would end up in hospital first.. instead, SWEEPER got double booked.. SWEEPER did not play.. I had to find a plan B.. so I went to the EXETER in the attempt to catch MIRRORLINE playing the front bar.. instead I came face to face with the rarity that is a 30 person deep lineup to get INTO the EXETER.. with plan B down the toilet.. I wuz looking for a plan C.. or maybe bypassing it all, search for a plan Z (but lacking the squirrels or C4 explosives to achieve such aims).. so after much hamster circlings thru the east end - from the AUSTRAL, CRANKA, EXETER and back.. I finally bumped into someone I knew at the CRANKA.. who then told me to check out a band at the JADE MONKEY..
so under such random instructioning, I find myself at the JADE MONKEY to catch BORDERLAND and some (new?) band called SOFT WHITE MACHINE consisting of 2 former members of UNGKAS and one former member of SIR GERBAL (and.. um.. some drummer dude with a funny hat) they sounded like the improbable mix of MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE and FRANZ FERDINAND.. and yet despite such frankensteinian sound mashings they really kicked some serious skinny white riffing rock arse.. like 2 tone swinging brit dance rock with gnashing chunky metal guitar riffs and screaming whining emaciated emo.. bizarre but really really fucken cool.. and no, I dont understand it either.. but next time they play.. I'm like THERE dude.. and so should you.. thumbs up dudes! you rock!
all thru this it was raining buckets outside whilst inside the JADE MONKEY leaked thru holes into buckets.. dripping drops on stage.. spilling shallow puddles off the stage.. normally this would be a recipe for disaster.. but in a place like the JADE with all the funky little ditdot fairy lights and the red satan spotties and the psychic bartender (who serves me the beer even before I know I wanna order one.. damn!), it all just adds to the ambience.. and if my ears weren't bleeding I'd almost consider taking chicks on messy romantic dates here.. (but perhaps that's just the brain damage talking..)
bands ended.. and many beers later.. I wondered aimlessly to the cranka SMSing peeps to drink some more piss with.. finally dragging a few select loons (and accidently bumping into others) at the CRANKA.. dancing like retarded loons on the dance floor.. broken glass.. people tripping with the tiny cuts and the bandaids and the blood.. (but no stitches).. the mess later swinging by SHOTS.. till.. somehow I find myself home at the end of it all.. my brain spun into a blackhole and into unconsciousness..SATURDAY NIGHT
I woke up in sections like jigsaw pieces scattered with the end bit missing under the sofa cushions.. my right arm slept well into the late afternoon as I dragged and dropped it this way and that trying to resuscitate it, mostly to no avail.. after pulling my left calf muscle in my sleep and waking up in a howling pain at around 9AM I spent the rest of the day walking with a limp till I knocked it all back into shape and wondering how it got so bent in the first place.. I was a broken symmetry of broken limbs operated by dyslexic puppeteers.. I was braindead till well into the twilight hours, flip flopping helplessly like a fish trying to find a frequency I could work with.. I was in no condition to go out tonight.. and yet, despite my own best advice, I did anywaze.. coz hey! that's me.. I'm freaking insane!
I found meself at a rushed photoshoot for MUNCHKIN at 8PM - attempting to capture the fleeing last 1/2 hour of sunlight as it ducked and weaving under overcast clouds and corrugated fences.. herding band members into improbable arrangements.. the "walking down the road" shot.. the "packed like sardines" shot.. the "look that dog's got a fluffy tail" shot.. squinting and tapping the loose change in my head hoping they'd finally spell some sense.. shuffling band members inside proving somewhat more success with the strategic use of lamps, candles, incomprehensible fluffy red things, aliens and the running up and down stairs.. somehow I get some good shots out've all this (wot can I say, I have a knack for this thing) and begin to wonder if doing band promo shoots like these falls into the "never work with children or animals" catagory.. maybe the professionals employ band photography sheep dogs to keep them in control..?
with attention spans running on empty and the last shots fired.. everyone scattered for beer.. more people spilling in, as it all erupted into some kind've party thingy (the reason for which I've since forgotten to the mists of beer damage).. witness tiny confused dogs.. exciteable kids.. oldies partying like it wuz 1979.. random musicians.. much beer.. random jamming with acoustic guitars and crazy folk singing whilst some mad chick rhythmically tied herself in knots with 50 hula hoops (damn that wuz some seriously cool shit.. they should take that on the road - KALIAH, her old man and hula hoop pretzel woman.. YEEEHA!).. much more beer.. an impromptu 3 member GNOMES gig.. all in all an absolute chaotic out've control jamming hootenanny / shindig (or wuz it a box social?) a roaring blow out that quickly fled in a mad panic and a anticlimatic farting death soon after I decided in ill judgement to play a DJ set chaotic jam with DALE and GEDDY on guitars.. (dammit! why did I go and do that.. arrr fuck).. with the place rapidly much emptier, and the host also fleeing off in other pursuits.. I made my get away.. finally shuffling myself into a latenight bus home with a mess of computer equipment at 4AM.. and yet, still a damn nice party (I promise I wont kill it next time!)
I think in a few weeks time I might actually make sense of this weekend.. all random and scattered and chaotic.. or likely I'll just put it all down as just another momentary 48 hours of insanity and just forget it all.. so many weeks of flip-flopping-flourescent-flickering-light-insomnia caught in the limbo of future undecided tends to wear a person down.. I am jack's growling spleen looking to vent..
fuckit.. I'm outta here..
I've had enough of this shit..
SO LONG AND THANKS FOR THE FISH!
see ya back on the flipside!
and if I don't..
have a merry XMAS and a HAPPY NEEEEW BEEEEEER!
Previously on Spoz's Rant: Go For Broke