Rock & Roll Lies

Kid Harpoon made me collapse on friday night.

This is my story, and I am sticking to it. Despite potential evidence to the contrary. I care not for what you say, oh security guard. It was definately, definately his fault. No doubt whatsoever.


Dont believe me? Okay, I'll go back to the beginning. I'm sure you'll come to see things my way.

You see, friday was a very long day. By the time I reached the gig (doors at 8.00 pm, Clwb Ifor Bach, Cardiff) I had already experienced a creative writing session, a shopping expedition, a four hour coffee date (yes, date. yes, four hours. yes, coffee, though I only actually had two cups) and a nice hot towel. So, I was rather wound up by the time I reached the gig, but also perhaps more wearied than I realised. And, upon arrival, I found myself accompanied by sambuca & lemonades and some rather lovely indie folk, most notably Jay Jay Pistolet, whose song 'Holly' said at least half of everything I've been trying to say in songs & poetry for the last few years. And it was amazing. By the time Kid Harpoon actually came on, myself and BFB (best friend beth) were happily positioned at the from, ready to dance our little socks on.
And Oh We Did.
You see, the last time I saw Kid Harpoon, he was alone. Just one small indie boy in a checked shirt and battered hat with an accoustic guitar. And he was awesome, so I was not worried in the slightest by inflicting him on the BFB, but... this time he had a band. A band with a keyboard and a bass and a drumkit and a bunch of flowers and A DOUBLE BASS.

Sledgehog: a bass! strings! my little heart thrums for joy
BFB:...
Mike: (who is a. too cool to fully be my friend and b. too cool for me to think of a decent alias for and who made the mistake odf standing behind me during this gig) Sometimes I fear you.

But, it got better. Because Kid Harpoon + band = PIRATE ROCK. I kid ye not. He launched straight into The Milkmaid and, well, its just as well there were some equally excited indie boys dancing nearby. I'm fairly certain that only their excitement prevented clwb staff from calling the little men in white coats to take me.
By the time the (relatively short) setlist reached its end with Manhattan, we were all hot, sweaty, and over the moon. The front row were waving and dancing and screaming each word and I'm fairly sure that even the saner back-rowers were feeling somewhat celebratory. Never mind Berlin, Cardiff was already ours.


This, of course, is all positive. If you're confused by my collapsing story, then I would like you to kindly continue reading. It might even make sense some day. See, BFB & I wandered back to the lovely land of the students union, me singing & dancing as I went, and drank and were merry and then, when she went to collect her friend*cough* from the station, I went through to the SU club night and carried on my game of storm dancing. Until they kicked us out at 2am. And still, all was well. Right up until I was getting in the queue for my coat.

Sledgehog: How peculiar. I feel most unwell. Perhaps if I lean against this nice wall?...
The wall changes position a few times & she passes out
Random Bystanders: Alas! A girl upon the floor! Are you unharmed, drunkard?
Sledgehodg: I'm fine. Fine! I promise!
Gets up, stumbling somewhat, & somehow manages to retrive her coat & get outside. Whereupon she collapses. Again. This time against a handy wall.

At this point, events diverged somewhat...

Random Bystander: So, when you said fine, you meant...?
Dramatic Security Guard: Child! Speak to me! Tell me you can hear me?!
Sledgehog: mutters something incoherent about Kid Harpoon
DSG: Fie! Another dastardly case of pirate rock. I fear it is spreading

alternatively:

DSG: Look at me miss! Are you on drugs?!
Sledgehog: dazed no...
DSG: Are you certain
Sledgehog: Well, I dont think I am. Unless BFB doctored my sambucas...
DSG: call the police! Immedeately. Then, adopting the persona of the demon headmaster Look into my eyes
Sledgehog: Oooh, spinny. Passes out again


...okay, so I wasnt on drugs and neither was it a direct result of Kid Harpoon. To my perpetual shame, I was apparently very very dehydrated. However, this was probably erascibated by getting very riled up & sweaty, cooling down, & then doing exactly the same thing again.


...I wish I was a rock and roll star.