When 2008 dawned on us, I promised myself (and Visa) that I would seriously curtail my trips to Jo’burg to watch bands. I managed to fool myself for a few weeks, tops. I suspect Visa knew it was a hoax all along. Oh well, there’s something to be said for living on gigs and toast.
For those of you who don’t know (and you should hang your heads in shame unless you’ve just awoken from a 15 year coma), Paul E Flynn is the frontman of iconic South African rock group, Sugardrive. His solo album Fields has been in the works for a while now and it seems that with the collaboration of the Seeds of Doubt (Sean Strydom, Donovan Campbell and Paulo Rego), we can look forward to buying it in April. Flynn has arguably the most distinctive voice in the country, and it’s the kind of voice that sends quivers racing along your skin. Add to this the skilled musicianship of the rest of the band, and I think Thursday night was by far one of the best gigs I’ve been to in months. They have a slightly country sound but definitely not in a dodgy, Stetson wearing kind of way - although Paul did do an alarmingly accurate rendition of the redneck dance on stage. Too much time in Ireland perhaps. They were still rock enough to get me and the usual gig partner-in-crime up and dancing, and they had fantastic rapport with their audience. All in all, we had an awesome time (and not just because of the free wine that came with the burgers which apparently only I was drinking!), the band looked like they were having loads of fun, and we were also taught a novel use for onions. My kind of show.
The support acts had a lot to measure up to, and Greenhouse Effect were the smarter of the pair, in that they played first. They are a funky looking group of guys and the hip kids in the crowd definitely seemed to be lapping them up. A drummer is replaced by a dj with a drum machine, which definitely added to their trip-rock sound. All in all, I really enjoyed them, and hope to get to see them again soon. Alas, by the time Munkinpure took to the stage, they didn’t have much of an audience left. Not that we had left, just that most people had adjourned to the bar after the main act. What can I say, the lure of the shooter was simply too strong. I did peep around the door once or twice during their set and they seemed pretty good. Mental note to self - must resist the shooters and watch the band instead next time. I’m disappointed in myself.
So all in all, a good time was had by all. Some might say too good a time, considering the lethal combination of wine and tequila that was on the menu. Certainly my beautician, who recently told me that the space between my eyebrows represents my liver and is crying out for mercy, would suggest it….who knew my liver was such a tittle tale! Anyway, I maintain its all relative…after all, what seems excessive to a Benedictine monk is veritably chaste by Paris Hilton’s standards! I’m somewhere in between I think…
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