Third and final leg of our Double Vision Tour with the legends of Money For Rope kicked off on Thursday up in Brisbane, at a place called Bar Soma. I have fond memories of this bar, many moons ago with my favourite band at the time Limbeck. We danced the night away and got super boozy on the tiny dance floor. Great little establishment here.
I ended up getting hooked up in the Virgin Lounge departing Sydney Airport. Let me tell you, it is fabulous in there. It’s one of those things that I wish I never had experienced, because now every time I fly I will want to go kick it in here. It’s kind of like when you get a AAA pass at a festival, you can’t look back after having this experience, it’s just not the same. Luckily I am nearing Gold status so this will be my airport life form here on in. Winning.
Elliott and Simmo swung into Brisbane airport to collect Rudi and I and we headed for the venue. When we arrived Money For Rope were just about to start and they, as always, had a killer set. So much energy in those crazy cats, they always take their shirts off too. Jules the singer has a mad bod. We were setting up our equipment all fine and business as usual and it became apparent that Rudi was rather intoxicated, not to worry after all this is rock n roll.
As we kicked off the set, second song in my bass amplifier decides to take the night off, right there and then it just left. The little orange light showing no signs of life, I was stuck between a rock and a hared place. To the bands credit they soldiered on until we could rectify the problem. This set off a chain of disarming events and it turned the show into a rollicking punk rock affair. We were messy but did it in style; the small crowd in attendance were loving us and showed their enthusiasm even though we were on the edge of a natural disaster.
I turn around and see that the ever so intoxicated Rudi Marr has swung his guitar around and smashed it into the drum kit knocking over anything in his way. Then I turn my head again and see a flying guitar take to the air like a fighter pilot. What the fuck. I look over at Rudi and he is on the ground and had tumbled after launching his guitar across the stage. For someone that has a phobia of twigs (yes the tiny branches of a tree), this was quite a site. Obviously he then got kicked out of the venue and we were left to pick up the pieces of his frenzied tornado. Elliott did his uniquely dubbed “Hammo Smooth Over” and got the venue back on side. Very interesting night indeed…
Friday night we were back to the old stomping ground of the Gold Coast, most of us actually grew up and met here so it’s always a sentimental feeling being back. We rolled into the Shark Bar early for sound check and all were in good spirits. This was the last show of our ten-date tour so we had to make sure we went out with a bang. Post sound check we headed to our buddy (and at times band physio) “The Rock Doc” James Fletchers house for some pre show fun.
For some reason things ran way over time tonight and we didn’t go on stage until about midnight (which is when we were scheduled to finish) so the paced crowd were fairly restless but well lubricated! We had a solid show, Elliott took a swing at a drunk audience member for leaning over and playing his keyboard and harmonicas. The guy absolutely shit himself. The night ended in us getting absolutely sideways until the early hours of the morning.
The weekend was classic Gold Coast times. Sun, beach, coffee, sun, parents pool, booze, elsewhere, Hollywood Showgirls. 5am arrival home, sun, beach, airport, home, sleep, flu.
Thanks to everyone who ventured out to see us on this tour, we love you. Also a big thanks to our bros at Money for Rope, it was a pleasure gents.
Until next time…Peace to the crease.All photos by James Adams.