Too late …
Vic did a lovely post at the weekend about one of her local bands, Cellar Door, with some great pictures of the gig they played to launch their EP.
Cellar Door is the old linguist's chestnut; it's always quoted when talk turns (as it sometimes does in my house) to words that are really nice to say - in this case, probably because it sounds like cod-French: "C'est l'adore".
The band probably got their name from a much cooler source than a linguistics textbook: Drew Barrymore comes out with the phrase as the English teacher in übercool movie Donnie Darko.
That always threw me a bit. I mean, suspension of disbelief is pretty essential in movies, but while I could easily accept Frank the six foot scary rabbit, the idea of Drew Barrymore teaching English ranks up there on the absurdity scale with David Bowie in Labyrinth or Milla Jovovich in … well, anything really.
Anyway, Vic's photos reminded me so much of the seventies, playing in bands during the punk explosion that I thought I'd post a photo of what happens to musicians in their fifties, as a warning to (a) enjoy every minute of their youth, and (b) to give up at thirty.
This is Michael, Chris, Jann, Clive and yours truly (the kid of the band at forty-eight, and mercifully behind the camera) dicking around in Trellis Studio's rehearsal room last weekend.
Look back at Vic's photos, then look at this one again.
Do you still wonder why I am as bitter and twisted as I am?
22 comments:
What a hoot!! For god sake you aren't too old - look at Mick and the boys - they're still going strong and they all look like they died last Tuesday - let it all hang out I say - age is a state of mind!!!!
I've covered the mirrors in the house with Vaseline - can't see a bloody wrinkle now.
Muso's in their fifties are dead sexy.
Why?
They know good music.
They hate that Pete Doherty from Babyshambles and they are smart enough to know that Daniel Johns from Silverchair isn't fooling anyone with that "I wear sunglasses at night cause i'm cool" he's stoned, he's as high as a kite.
They don't need to watch Idol because basically they'd rather be playing something cool, sexy and melodic.
And muso's are as good vertically as they are horizontally.
Your not old, your retro.
Jules. It all hangs out whether I let it or not. Eww!
Kate: I am somewhat pleased that I have no idea who those people are.
As for old musicians: under the mixing desk (behind Clive) is a beer fridge and once suitably lubricated we spent most of the day yelling things like "Let's do the Pixies' "Debaser" in the style of George Formby!" or dancing around the room to Big Black's "Songs About Fucking" …
Sing along … "He's a Whooooooore!" etc.
well, rehearsals are different from actual performances, aren't they. We need to see the kid with the guitar who's hiding behind the camera.
Dicking around in the studio is always so much more fun than gigging, Robyn.
After all these decades I have a deep loathing and contempt for audiences (other than my strange, rabid and doggedly persistent fan club, the Salivation Army)and much prefer simply sitting around with musicians and playing whatever we want, however we want, stopping for frequent libations and munchies. If I could do this from time to time and never play another gig I would be truly happy.
No offense to Vic, I prefer the "oldies"! I could not for one moment listen to that clatter. It makes my ears bleed. Bring it on ole Divey boy! P.s. Glen Frey turned 59 today.
Looks good fun, Dive. Why didn't someone photo the kid?
Because the kid had the camera, Lynn.
Prudence: I'm not sure about "oldie" … ick (hee hee) and the stuff I like to play is way more avant-garde and clattery and strange than anything you'll hear on music radio.
Glen Frey is still alive? That explains the strange and terrifying poster I saw on the tube, saying there's a new Eagles album coming out.
YIKES! Please don't bring back the eighties … PLEASE!!!!!
Oh Dive, I already have the new album. They make beautiful music together. You will NOT sway me on that! Perhaps it is I who is the "oldie". My brain can not process clatter anymore. Quiet, peacful music that you can acutally understand the lyrics is my cup of tea.
Well next time, you're to hand the Brownie over to the others and pose for all you're worth. Okay?
Prudence: you know I like that stuff as well as my "cooler" stuff … Just don't tell anyone! You'll ruin my rep!
Lynn: Not a chance. Hee hee. If you want a photo of this saggy old git, you're going to have to meet Phil and me for coffee and bring your own camera.
well, obviously, it doesn't work/didn't happen..we're all still here and only a few wastrels kicked off before 30
damn, there was supposed to be more to that post...anyway, keep playing music, sugar
Hee hee, Savannah. "Wastrels" is such an excellent word.
Unfortunately, in the sixties it was most of the good ones who died and they left the dross to tour endlessly and release increasingly anodyne records. I'd swap Hendrix for Cher any day … in fact we really should have a cull of the lamer survivors for humanity's sake.
good post dive, you're never too old to rockin roll at Ian Anderson once wrote. Do what make YOU happy dive and you will die a happy man...maybe?
Rich: you've reminded me of one of my favourite lyrics, from "Don't Let's Start" by They Might Be Giants:
"No one in the world ever gets what they want
And that is beautiful
Everybody dies frustrated and alone
And that is beautiful"
And Ian Anderson? I can't badmouth the Tull on my blog or Helen will set her bees on me.
Instead I'll just sit here and sing "Aqualung" to myself.
Theres a new eagles album coming out? Gimme Gimme Gimme.
I'm listening to witchy woman right now, my unoffical anthem.
I've taken back the stereo as of tonight, they fucked up my posting so I am fucking up their sleep.
Perhaps I should try the raven hair and ruby lips to go with the new fuck you attitude?
he he DONE! The very next time i'm there, i swear.
Kate: Yes, there is. Hurl groats at those Amazonians and I'm sure they'll send you a copy.
And to quote Bob Dylan at Manchester Free Trade Hall, on being heckled by the folkies: "PLAY FUCKING LOUD!"
Lynn: You know where we'll be. There's as much coffee and obscenely fattening cakes as you can handle.
What an great rehearsal space!
Dive, I'd take it your advice of giving it up at thirty but apparently Kate will find me sexy when I'm fifty - so I've got something to hold out for.
Oh, yeah. I see this every day when I go down in our basement. Bing and her friends just finished playing some Blue Oyster Cult's The Reaper about an hour ago and I can still feel the pounding in my feet.
("More cowbell!")
Have you seen the video on You Tube of Deep Purple, set to Snoop Dog's remix of Jim Morrison's Riders on the Storm? I thought of that when I saw this picture! Check it out...
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