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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

Day Two of the Mundy Extravaganza...

This time round, the concert was, to put it lightly, 1,000,000 times better than the night before. Not that Thursday night wasn't up to scratch, but it had just managed to reach scratch level, and then decided that it was comfortable, right there at scratch, and couldn't be bothered moving up the ranks any further. And that, quite often, is a good night at Whelans. It's a wonderfully brilliant venue, but goodness me they'll let any old idiot with a guitar through the door and up to the stage, where they will whine with their sub-Radiohead or sub-Buckley or, these days (shudder) sub-Thrills nonsense while we stand at the back waiting for them to finish so that the moshing can begin in earnest.

We chose, for tradition's sake, exactly the same seats as the night before, but this time spent the duration of the support act saying hello to the people we'd seen the night before, and generally swanning about like the giddy fools we were fast becoming.

The gig itself, as I've said, was astonishing. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I had a passing familiarity with the songs now (I only own one of the three albums he's released, and don't have the newest), so I knew which ones would be the big winners with the crowd, and I now knew all the choruses - I only have to hear something once, and then I'll remember it. It's a blessing and a curse combined. Myself and V spent the time kneeling up on seats, leaning further out over the balcony than I'd normally be comfortable with, and screaming at the top of our voices every time a song ended, because we'd had a couple of "looseners" before the gig started and were feeling healthier at that moment than we had all day.

We swanned backstage, still walking about in a self important manner, and this time I managed to keep up one half of a conversation with Mundy that lasted, on and off, all the time we were there. Backstage was packed out, it being a Friday (all the usual liggers were in) and we made do with talking to the tour manager, Mundy's accountant (or so he claimed), the guy that does sound, the guy that's making a documentary about Mundy (or so he claimed) and a guy that's employed by Whelans to give massages to any and everyone backstage. He gave me and V a good rubbing down, I can tell you.

Thanks to talking politely and with great enthusiasm to the tour manager, V managed to secure herself another two tickets for the gig tonight. I can't even begin to consider going, due to the fact that Thursday's hangover has joined forces with last night's to form an army. But I'm sure she'll find a willing accomplice.

This entry was posted on 02 October 2004 at 7:40 pm. 0 comments

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