*in between these 2 stars was about 10 million paragraphs of moaning but i have deleted it cos it was boring. bye bye moaning*
I went to my first gig where I wasn't working on the door (club 8/Would-Be-Goods/School rainbow shower of xylophones and kitten's drawings of flowers) or playing guitar (with The Nuns at the Macbeth for the rather smashing and indeed sartorially pleasing Heidi Heelz) or playing guitar (again for the Nuns at the Bull & Gate with a baby grunge band and a posh rapper).
And thus...
We enter the Battersea Arts Centre and a rather bizzarro posh gent lets us in. i think he is an Actor! Either that or an alien who has been watching The Good Life and based it's role-play on Margo poshbird. We are at some sort of themed party thingy to do with the Masque Of The Red Death. how lovely! But rather than people with plague like rashes or mangled limbs or doomly creeping lergies or whatever the red death is there are bunch of masked nutters in ballgowns and tailcoats. um! if only i had known i could have out-top-hatted them all. After a jazzy swing band finished their set of 1920s charleston tunes and (rather unfortunately) Sting covers ms Piney gir takes to the stage.
The audience sway back on their drunken heels to Que Sera Sera swayed out by big-voxed lilting toned piney and her Age Of Reason chappies - before she lurches them into some darker electro-rocking verses of her own. poor little audience don't know what to think. but they think they like it. they roll on their french heels and swish their petticoats as an oddly countrified pop on electrics set unfolds before their very shell-likes.
