Scurvy Jane recently placed an ad in the local shop window, looking for a new band – ‘Bassoon player who doesn’t understand why George Lucas made those Star Ward prequels, seeks like-minded individuals to create some sort of noise/music’. It took a while but she eventually received 120,000 replies and eventually narrowed them down to 6.
The band was formed and soon after settled on the name ‘The like minded individuals who don’t understand why George Lucas made those Star Wars prequels’. They rehearsed for a couple of minutes and decided they were ready for a gig. The scurvy one brought us a demo and their music/noise can be described as the sound of a band that can play music, crossed with the sound of a band who are so in tune with being out of tune that they can only be described as true geniuses or true Bon Jovi lovers. Jill Y and I were intrigued and agreed to go and watch the play.
The first song they played was called ‘Paris Hilton’s ankles are not the same as mine’. An interesting piece of something that sounded like a quiet cat getting its tooth pulled to the background of subtle acoustic guitar and bassoon. I forgot to turn my phone off and received a text message from Sugartastic Daddy John. No sooner had the text come through, than I was escorted on to the stage by two extra-large guys who looked like funeral directors. Scurvy Jane handed me the bassoon while the other so-called musicians continued playing. I was confused to the max until I noticed one of several warnings plastered all over the room. That was the first and last time I left the phone on during a gig: