![]() Enough cash down the hatch and, hurray, music time.īreezin’ and their hoard of trendy millennials the district (17/6/23)īreezin’ were the ultimate covers band. Having been told that we are going to “The District” after, a live music spot right above Adelaide’s Sk圜ity casino, I sat imagining a DIY industrial themed venue with a scrappy outfit captivating a total of, maybe, five people? I patiently surveyed as much of my cousins’ cash got pushed into the divot in the roulette table (to never be seen again) and chatted profusely with the croupier in a weak effort to gain some higher insight on the cultural phenomenon that is gambling. Three days into my arrival, a lot of the family went out to eat Thai in North Adelaide and my social stiffness melted away in the custody of the best honey whiskey I’ve ever tasted (Jack Daniels, on my wishlist) and so many Asahi beers that I had to leave to go pee in the restaurant’s shack-like bathroom four times in the span of an hour and a half (every time I cite my drink of choice, I’m making a uber-niche Peter Laughner reference). My drummer cousin presented me a few events the “kids” could attend and I drew out of him a number of good record shops to pop into as well. It seemed like my trip had not only been anticipated but planned for. I got a massive kick out of being adored without having to actively earn it and I found it odd (yet refreshing) to be the spectacle in a life where I’ve mostly resorted to comfortably taking the backseat and observing. Twenty plus people asked me a dozen questions as I literally shook (I am a shaker) under the weight of unadulterated attention.Įveryone dispersed at 12:30am. I was met with wide smiles and tightly grasped everyones forearms as I kissed the cheeks of my gracious hosts in greeting. I poked my head around the corner and the whole family- almost everyone I’d become acquainted with in old home videos and family albums- was there. When my Nonno entered there was this eruption of cheery exclamation. I refused to be the first one to enter the room where family was waiting to receive us from our 2 hour flight. If anyone knew the Adelaide scene it would’ve been him but I was uncertain when, and if at all, I would see him or how many of my other cousins were even aware that a few old Sydney relatives and their unknown granddaughter would be gracing their neighbourhood, anyway. He also drums in one of the most faithful homages to Led Zeppelin I’ve ever encountered (and I secretly maintained that he was probably the coolest, most talented person I’d ever be related to). Leaving the airport in the pitch black of 8pm, I wasn’t really sure how the trip was going to go… who would I see in the span of a week? Where would anyone take me? Was my presence going to be a colossal inconvenience to a family I had barely met? I was particularly curious about one of my younger cousins I had seen perform at the Bridge Hotel supporting Australia’s very iconic Screaming Jets. Johnny winter memphis slim’s house of blues Yet, here I am with my green tea and lemon, “I miss Tom Petty” mug and bad attitude so I reckon it’s time to get over it all and just write my latest blog post. It’s mostly ass-talking and posturing and I think I’ve always been a little too self-aware to commit to the bit fully. Supposing people want to hear your opinions and voice is some histrionic bullshit that is not for the weak of character. ![]() To be a writer is to totally dally with reams upon reams of auto-grandiose delusions. (In new Richie Sambora news, seems the Bon Jovi reunion is actually going backwards, oh fuck.) Below is also my favourite song from the new Enjoy album, Exploited. Also, those emails have a real ugly format. Take the link off the email to the live site or app because there will be the best possible version of the post and not the shitty, grammar-ridden disaster I usually send out at 2am. ![]() NOTE: if you are a subscriber who reads the blog through the emails, please don’t. I’ll be once again revising the schedule when my Sem 2 timetable comes out. I’m thinking I’ll be writing on Mondays now because doing the whole blog-after-work, still-hungover-from-Saturday is soooo overrated. I bloody told you! I would skip one session in my schedule and such would be the death of my structure.
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