June 24, 2004

A Low Hum Issue 10 / CD 3

Wednesday night, Happy, an expectant crowd gathers. I discover that it is true - without any smoking inside, you can smell people's farts! Haha. First act Golden Axe were way cool, setting up just in front of the stage. One operated a modified pram (complete with revolving mini disco ball, reminded me of a lollipop) the other was on a souped-up zimmer frame. Fantastic. The lights were the best! They had crazy outfits too, ridiculous convoluted headgear which added to the overall effect. I liked it when they appeared to talk to each other between songs and it sounded like a de-tuned radio. I've just been checking out their track 'No Food' on the A Low Hum CD 3, and it's great.

Disasteradio was fantastic as always, distributing cd-rs of 'Dance Self Instruction Record' and 'The System That Never Fails'. Cher Luke! He's such a happy fellow.

The Fanatics played last. Finally I got to see them after two false starts (I missed them at Indigo and at Bodega earlier this year). Singer David seemed kind of angsty, strutting jerkily about the stage a bit like some other Auckland band's singer. It was a little strange how the bar man confiscated the mic stand that was being kicked around the stage, but I have to admit to feeling a little nervous when he was waving the stool around. Although again it seemed unnecessary for the barman to remove it! Surely David wasn't all that unpredictable. I talked to him afterwards, and he was lovely.

All in all a good gig. In other news I met Noizyboy at last! Hurrah! Samflux too. And tclak. Fun times.

This Saturday is Designated Dump Day. Not just us - the boys up the road are doing it too, so it must be cool!! Next weekend the hunt for a new flat begins.



Blogger noizy said...

And nice to meet you - if fleetingly. Always nice to be able to put a face to a name. cheers.

9:54 PM  
Blogger Jessie said...

Dump Day.

I woke up - fuck, work - NO! Saturday. Relief. Sleep more. Disasteradio's 'System That Never Fails' woke me around 9am. Still too early.

When I got up, I saw that we had been a little optimistic with the set 9am start time.

The landlord runs the dairy next door and he was pretty keen for us to clear out the alley between our house and the shop. (His fixing broken doorknobs and blocked sinks seemed contingent on this. He obviously hadn't seen the full extent of it.)

There wasn't much in the alley, comparatively. Just a pile of branches off the Noxious Weed Tree that hangs into our yard from a section behind.

New Year's Eve 2003, early afternoon, Nick and I are sitting in the back yard drinking beer in the hot sun. I'm playing guitar and singing proportionate to beer consumption. Something snaps. The tree must go. I locate a saw in Jolene's room (?!). The offending branches are sawn off. It's such a horrible tree, and little baby weed trees sprout up all over the yard (between the cracks in the concrete that is). Yeah the yard is all concrete relaid countless times over the years with cracks and weeds and moss growing through the cracks. Sounds crap. Looks crap. But it's a wonderful place nonetheless.

I threw the severed branches down the side of the house.

Until now. They were dried out now, six months later, so I sawed all those nasty twiggy branches into kindling. That was just the beginning. Other flatmates Amelia, Bryn and Jolene pitched in, Nick having the dubious luxury of escaping Dump Day to spend time in Palmerston North. We filled about five extra large rubbish bags and a few large cardboard boxes with dump stuff, as well as various bits of defunct stereo equipment (later removed by my brother), a skateboard, some junk Rhys, Amelia and I scored out of a skip about a year ago on the way home from working at Zebo's, and about four boxes of recycling.

So part one was done with relative ease, if you don't mind operating a saw, touching loads of garbage, and dealing with spiders and snails. The worst part was dealing with a large rubbish bin full of bits of plants and half full of water that had stood in the far corner of the yard since before I moved in. (I've lived there the longest so if it pre-dates me and hasn't been useful yet, has to go.) Bryn tipped it out, and it was almost entirely composted and IT SMELT SO BAD. Luckily it drained down a crack in the concrete. Down to the depths of somewhere.

Then it started raining. We quickly managed to shift all the bags into the hall way and kitchen, but there was no longer a hallway or kitchen for our use. This made life difficult. I observed that we had existed for months with all that crap out in the yard; now we had consciously collected it together and imposed it on our everyday lives by obstructing the accessways of the house. We are now forced to deal with it, walking around it, avoiding it, having to circumvent a huge pile of crap to get two steps from the sink to the toaster. Why didn't we just finish the job and take it to the dump?

We were waiting for the Van to be dropped off. We got sick of waiting and eventually decided we would do it later... or tomorrow... just not now... As soon as we had made other plans the Van appeared. Suited me - I took it to check out my brother's new flat in Newtown. (It's huge and old and cool.)

So I guess I know what I'm doing today.

12:11 AM  

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