Mental!

Last night I attended my third concert this WEEK! But unlike the others, I was not watching my child, but instead watching a band at a local pub.  Yes, I went out with three friends to see Mental as Anything.  They were supported by a local act in one of the other bars, and this act's repertoire consisted of some Bachman Turner Overdrive, some Creedence, some Kiss, and some good ol' Acca-Dacca.  I was in Heaven, as you can well imagine.  I drank my vodka/lime/soda (which tasted funny - I wonder did the barmaid mistake the gin bottle for vodka?).  The band struck up 'Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap'.  Love this song, but I have a problem, and two of my friends are similarly afflicted.  When we hear this, we sing along.  This is no big deal as many sing along with Acca-Dacca.  But my friends and I, when it gets to the chorus, sing 'Dirty deeds....DONE WITH SHEEP!'  Infantile, I know.  But funny.  To a degree.  It's reached a point where I cannot listen to this song and not sing this cheeky substitute lyric.  It's like when the woeful 'Living Next Door To Alice' is played on the radio (I listen to AM - I'm old, so sue me), and you just HAVE to caw, 'Alice?  Who the fuck is Alice?'  And yes, I also HAVE to respond when I hear 'Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again?'  Actually, I saw ACDC  in 1996, and when the pre-dementia Malcolm Young was growling into the microphone, 'Dirty deeds and they're done dirt cheap...', I'm sure in my mind I was thinking, 'Dirty deeds and they're done with sheep.'

You take away different memories and impressions from gigs.  Prior to entering the room where the Mentals were to play, I visited the Ladies' room.  The previous occupant of the stall I used had done what can only be described as a toxic dump.  Not good.  Seriously, I less sicked out when I went to the loo at the Hoodoo Gurus gig some years ago and there was a couple having  a knee-trembler in one of the stalls.

However, I had a mainly good time at the show.  I saw the band with these same friends last year and enjoyed it more this time, as the venue was just a tad less crowded so I wasn't getting buffeted by drunken idiots.  Most times when I catch a band at this venue, I find myself stuck beside a swaying, tone-deaf drunk.  Honestly, why do these people think we are happy to listen to their monstrous caterwauling?  Do they think we say, 'Hey, I know I paid good money for my concert ticket, but go ahead, make a noise like a cow with a calf jammed in its birth canal; I don't mind'?  However, I did have to be careful of the pissheads doing interpretive dance.  People, please don't do interpretive dance at gigs - you run the risk of poking someone in the eye.  Not entirely sure what last night's 'dancer' was trying to interpret; walking through a cobweb when under the influence of a box of Mogadon, maybe?  Oh yeah, and to the she-twits who clambered onto the stage and squawked, 'Hey there yew wif the saaaad face come up to moi place an' live it up...' into the bass player's microphone, kindly refrain from doing so in future.  The aforementioned principle applies; people don't part with hard-earned money to watch tone-deaf clowns who seem to be unaware of the God-awful racket they are making.  The exception to this is a Kanye West concert. 

Things like this make me glad I don't get sauced when I go to see bands, but I might have to in order to become, if not oblivious, then at least indifferent to this annoying behaviour.  It might also have fortified me from the horrific vision of the bogan who tried to execute some dance move best left to younger break dancers that caused his track suit pants to slip down and expose a great deal of his gelatinous backside.  That just cannot be unseen.

But yeah, a good night was had, and my friend got her Mentals paraphernalia signed by Greedy Smith after the show.  She said to him, 'Remember my friend Simone?', and he said he did.  I was cynical at this, thinking the Greed-ster was being polite, but then remembered that when I chatted with him last year, I told him I trekked Nepal just after he did because the Nepalese guide had asked my friend and I had we heard of Greedy Smith; Greedy having done the same organised trek just before we did.  I guess it's rare to go to a gig in a country town and have someone tell you you've a trekking holiday in common, when you'd be used to hearing how 'Oh-I-Used-To-Watch-You-Guys-On-Countdown', and blahblahblah. 

In case you're wondering, my favourite Mentals song is 'Come Around', so I was very happy when they did this - makes me feel thirteen again, and unsure of myself and wondering would boys like me.