>Several pairs of trainers in the wash later you turn around to see your
>name up on the screen behind you. Luckily (?) they misspell it.
the first gig i played in sydney after moving back - 5 foot high posters
announcing the night had my name as michael bicknell (my name is james
bucknell).
james
www.jbucknell.com
Michael.Elliot-Kn
[EMAIL PROTECTED]
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28/11/04 05:57 AM 313@hyperreal.org
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Subject
(313) Anyone had this happen...
You're sitting at home with the wife (or significant other, could be a cat
as well if you are single and not "involved") eating dinner and about to
pop a movie in the player when you get a phone call.
It's the guys who run the local techno/dance night in the biggest room in
the city.
They want you to play
Tonight.
Can you be there in an hour?
You have nothing in your record bags and, in fact, haven't even * touched*
your decks in at least two weeks - except to put on some folky indie rock
stuff you bought the other day (or some weird experimental thing - just as
long as the record has no bpm count to speak of)
You weigh the situation - you haven't played the big room ever and they're
offering you two hours (start at 9pm).
"Hmmm," you think, "could help get open the door to some more gigs and get
me out of this techno slump."
You tell them yes (how bad could it be).
So you pull your record boxes apart trying to remember where you put those
"one records you've been wanting to play out".
You shove about four hours worth of records into two bags because you have
no clue what you're going to do - or even start with.
You leave - go to cash machine - go over to friend's flat as quickly as
possible to see if he wants to get in for free by carrying a bag - get in
car - find parking and walk two blocks to club. All in about a half-hour.
You finally get into to the club, take off coat, frantically try to find
screw-on adapter for headphone jack, pull it off other headphones, get on
the decks and throw on a record that for some reason sounds slower at home
(even with the pitch zeroed out). In a confused and hurried manner look for
follow-up record, etc.
You proceed, limping through a half hour to forty five minutes of getting
your bearings on someone else's mixer/decks/soundsystem in the big room.
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