February 7, 2018

Backyard Bandits VS Pub Snubs

I was thinking about how I always miss bands playing at parties. In sheds, backyards. I have a great memory of watching bands blasting a shed ceiling off under a cold inky ocean of stars in a NSW town populated with bored teens. Of a band in an unlikely yard in Albury, just behind Dean St. The air thrilled. People moved to the music. No-one got paid.
Not getting paid sucks.
But no-one gets paid now. Unless they do weddings or functions. And if you do get paid for a gig, it's so little all you can buy with it is a pair of sunnies from Chemist Warehouse and a drink. Many places don't pay at all. Then you're there, performing earnestly to people who aren't necessarily even listening, sipping rieslings, clattering knives on plates, smoking, laughing, scowling, maybe remembering a polite clap, or getting drunk and yell-talking and maybe spilling beer on you during some underevolved attempt at wooing of a human female. The venue makes money, the performer, not.
So, if no-one is making money, and a party provides fun and energy where a pub may only offer disillusionment and ill matching of musical mood to present ears, there should be more yard parties, yes?
I don't know people who have yard parties, but I've always wanted to play one. It'd be like busking, but more intimate and chaotic and safe. I like raves and festivals, but I don't dig the techno and wish more had live music, and that live music festivals and gigs could be happier and more colourful like raves. And every NYE I wish I was on a stage playing a metre from dancing people, howling in the new year. Drums pounding behind me. Whether in a venue, or a cleared shed.
Music for the people, with the people. I lived through the '90s but I crave like someone who has only seen it in films.

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