StopPress 168

S P E C
T R U M S P E C T R U M S P E C T R U M

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1) The end
of the night and an Indelibles’ fashion parade 2) Neil Butler from
The Pulse 94.7 bought the T-shirt
The
Indelibles’ debut gig at Ocean Grove
26.11.17 – The Indelibles’ debut gig
was foisted on an unsuspecting audience in Ocean Grove last night,
although you’d think by the pics it was some sort of fashion range
launch. Ocean Grove is a good three hour drive from Mt Evelyn, so
it was slghtly disappointing that the Queenscliff Festival robbed
us of the numbers we might’ve expected on the night. Nevertheless
it was fun – that is once we got the vocals on top of the mix, the
defect that had spoiled the first set..
94.7’s Neil Butler (pic 2) put in an appearance after a giving
us some much needed on-air promotion – one punter said he wouldn’t
have been there otherwise.

1) Mike
goes a tiny bit ape-shit with Brenden Mason 2) Way Out West’s Rob
Rowe takes the plaudits with Bren and Mike 3) George Butrumlis and
Mike party on in Box Hill
Spectrum
debuts a ‘surprise’ guest at Newport – Mike strikes a chord with George
B.
6.11.17 – The Willy RSL is no more –
long live the Newport Bowling Club! A virtually identical room set-up
to the Willy and so many familiar faces ensured a seamless transition
to the Newport Club for the 5th of November Spectrum show. Maria talked
me into coming with her in the poodle as I only had my stage gear
to bring with me, but despite arriving well-and-truly early I wasn’t
able to get my gear on stage with my present cluttering deaf bastard
set-up.
Our unmentioned ‘surprise’ guest this afternoon was, of course, Madder
Lake’s Brenden Mason, who’s appearing with SPECTRUM*plus
at the Satellite Lounge, our last gig of the year on Sunday arvo on
the 10th of December. (See details on the Gigs page). Bren and I sat
out in the green room (‘They’re all green’ Rob Rowe told me, ‘It used
to be a hospital’) during the Gringos’ set. Bren said he preferred
not to get depressed listening to a really hot guitarist, which the
Gringos’ guitarist Brian Strafford clearly is, and so we both stared
mournfully out at the vacant greens (or, as Bren thought more accurately
‘khakis’) until a solitary bowler arrived for a practice session.
Then it was Spectrum’s turn. ‘So, we’re playing what’s on the list?’
Daryl enquired. ‘Yes’ I responded with reassuring certainty, forgetting
momentarily that we were preceding the songs on the list with Going
Home, which of course wasn’t actually on the list.
There was immediate confusion bordering on pandemonium that might’ve
challenged a mind less accustomed to coping with self-generated disorder
than mine, but soon we were back on track and Brenden was introduced
a second time to a bemused audience and took up his position on the
Spectrum stage, a position that I would normally occupy but which
I’d foregone in the interests of Brenden being able to check where
my fingers were in an emergency.
In the end we all made a few mistakes too, but the audience was either
in a forgiving mood or just didn’t notice/care because we received
such a rapturous reception at the conclusion of the second set that
we had to give the crowd a couple of encores.
After a year of intermittent at best gigging, the prospect of another
gig on the same day was an extreme novelty, although strictly speaking
such an irregular commission doesn’t really fit the standard definition
of a gig. George Butrumlis, (pic 3) the genial gentleman
piano-accordionist for my 1st BASE outfit, had requested me to join
him at a residence in Box Hill South after the Newport shindig to
play about twenty minutes worth of my songs for a mystery birthday
girl – well, a mystery to me anyway. Not to Bill Putt apparently,
as he and Sarah, whose 60th birthday it was, had formed a friendship
way back in the ’80s. George told me that Sarah’s a very fine cellist
and there was Sarah (I assumed) and a room full of her fellow musicians
assembled to greet me when I entered the room on a cue from George.
What followed was one of those special events in an shamateur musician’s
career when he gets to play to the respectful attention of his peers,
albeit peers in a parallel musical universe, partnered with a superb
and forgiving player like George Butrumlis. The B version of I’ll
be Gone actually elicited tears – so many tears that George began
to wonder what the hell we’d done wrong. The audience was so finely
tuned that my picking up the wrong harmonica for Having a Wonderful
Time was chuckled at knowingly (asking for trouble putting my
harps behind me) and my squiffing the words to She’s a Woman
remained politely unmentioned in despatches later.
What a day it had been! M and I got home rather depleted and went
through the motions of watching a recorded episode of Doc Martin
before retiring to bed, exhausted but happy with the way the day had
gone.