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dance, baby, dance!

Well!

What a weekend I have had. Yes, the El Diablo tour continues. It was all fun and games last week, frolicking in the Atlantic and then playing a very fun gig with Life After Modelling (formerly known as Deputy Fuzz). But then on Saturday, we had to go to Drogheda to play an instore gig in a record shop.

Which turned out to be in a horrible tacky shopping centre.

That was bad enough, especially as the front of the shop was entirely open to the shopping centre and had no wall or door at all. At least, I thought, we can hide away at the back where the families pushing baby buggies and the skanky teenagers won't see us.

Then I noticed that the shop manager was directing us to put our amps and (scaled down) drum kit outside the shop, in the centre itself.

Yes, we had to put on the show outside the shop, in a shopping centre full of people who, it is safe to say, had no interest in Dublin country-hipsters. I genuinely thought I was going to cry with embarrassment. If I could have got away with it, I would have turned and run out of the building, but no, the show must go on, and so I lurked behind Patrick and Paul while bored shoppers strolled past us on their way into the knackery jeans shop next door. How could we compete with cheap jeans for the attentions of boys with gelled spiky fringes and Celtic jerseys? I have never, ever wanted the ground to open and swallow me up quite as much as I did during our opening song.

But after a while, something happened. I got so embarrassed I crossed some sort of embarrassment threshold, and the whole thing started to be funny rather than, you know, hideously mortifying. At one stage our audience consisted entirely of small children and their parents. The babies were obsessed with us, and bounced in their prams. The walking-age children danced. It was pretty cool, playing to the infant audience, even if they only liked us because they'd never seen a band before. So the magnificence (or shamelessness) of El Diablo transcended our hideous surroundings, and a jolly time was had by a;;. Or at least, the babies.

Next stop - Belfast! But I'll tell you about that later....

Comments

crazysoph
Aug. 19th, 2003 05:27 am (UTC)
But after a while, something happened. I got so embarrassed I crossed some sort of embarrassment threshold, and the whole thing started to be funny rather than, you know, hideously mortifying. At one stage our audience consisted entirely of small children and their parents. The babies were obsessed with us, and bounced in their prams. The walking-age children danced. It was pretty cool, playing to the infant audience, even if they only liked us because they'd never seen a band before. So the magnificence (or shamelessness) of El Diablo transcended our hideous surroundings, and a jolly time was had by a;;. Or at least, the babies.

Kids haven't had time yet to be told by their parents what not to like (and judging from those prammies, they'll not listen either. Typical! *wink*)

There was the time I was on stage (Andrews Lane Studio), playing the part of a very flightly lesbian-flower child named Tulip.

And one of my husband's colleagues saw me. And brought it up during a social event.

Well, I figured, after that, there was nowhere to go in his estimation, but up. Besides, he was cool; after all, he was attending the play to see a friend of his, so he knew how to put my image there in context.

Still, if he calls me "Tulip," I will not be responsible for my actions!

Crazy(but, ya wanna photo?)Soph

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