sad kiosk of the tron and be mine tonight
Good moring listeners
For those of you who were not able to cough up the 55$ for the dave dobbyn shows this week in the tron at the royal albert community pak and save theatre in Clarence st…. sit back… close your eyes…. honest dave is going to unleash the set list from the loudest living lepricorn of grey lynn
Here is the set list people:
The devil you know
Whaling
Accustomed to the light
Let the river go
You got heart
welcome home
Blind mans bend
Language
Pour the wine
Be mine tonight
Roll away the stone
Keep’n the flame
Slice of heaven
Loyal
Encore… and I could not believe it! but the band came back out and played more songs..
Beside you
Outrageous design
There you go.. you just heard all the songs and it did not cost you a cent.. honest dave again watching your back..
Its not every minstrel that the Hamilton city council lets play at the prestigious community theatre in clarence st… but what lurks in the grand ole Madison square gardens community theatre of Clarence st is a secret that lurks on the ground floor. the ‘kiosk’ was open… and I knew I was nowhere but in Hamilton.
Oh yes.. after the sensational little bushmen of Wellington played their set, punters paying $55 a ticket could retire to the ‘kiosk’ for yes… bags of potato chips, or chose from the selection of lollies in colourful plastic bags hanging on the wall like prizes at a dodgey shooting alley at the winter show. Also, you could uplift an aliminuim can of sprite or coca cola. The beverages were placed, side by side, on the counter so as to aid the punter in your decision making..
I was humilitated…. As I stared in disbelief at the ‘kiosk’ of the exquisitely named ‘community theatre’ of Clarence st I could only shudder and mumble inane comments to the keeper of the ‘kiosk’ as my mouth experienced lock jaw in the sudden realization that THIS, THIS place was my community theatre..that hip citizens like warren maxwell might have left backstage and been confronted by the kiosk in its very Hamiltonesque hitchcock horror…and lived to laugh the tale with company in the capital city…
And this I thought as my mouth locked, half my face fighting paralysis… was Hamilton in a ‘kiosk’- shell, if you will. This was it. If I had an honest polaroid… this would be the defining image of Hamilton-ness…no not Fairfield bridge, not the water tower at the lake but the kiosk of Clarence st is Hamilton-ness captured, contained, unmasked, on show
I could have run to the hills but I have a young family and a pregnant wife… that would not do. I could deny the kiosk never existed, that I never saw it, but that would not be just towards the jewish community. I could pour petrol over the kiosk during the sing along to ‘slice of heaven’ but after guy fawkes the firepersons are all dog tired – to put the fire out would put them out. I thought then maybe I could call the minister of froeign affairs and tell him there was an over-staying ‘ kiosk’ pretending to be a café in Clarence st. I was at a loss…
Anyways, kiosk aside… what you got for your 55$ last night was
5$ worth of unfunny female interuptee from audience
$7.50 of telecasters –a sunburst one and a red one
10$ of long vocal note in ‘whaling’ – a lot of lung in that little lepricorn 2.50$ of ross burge kick ass kick drum action 3$ Bones Hillman’s mighty bass lines of rhythm and whiteness on 4 strings only – keeping it real 5$ for four times ‘god bless you’s’ from saint dobbyn… 1.50 of 4 rock n roll picks on gaffer tape on mic stand. 1.50$ bird flu jokes
but that’s all small change, a nonsense, a nothing.. for the $19, a mere bargain, you got ‘be mine tonight’
a classic number – a beautiful enchanting chiming guitar crusade of open strings and twanging tone with a lead gat line that makes me feel like a new Zealander, that every day is Waitangi day…. the song sonically washed over me as if lounging in whangamata surf, as kiwi as the tune of a morepork in a cabbage tree. My spinal chord resonated. The toi tois were blowing in the wind and I was at one with aoteroa in a strange way, the song defining the brawn of our country, the bass line as bouncy and strong as any east cape hillscape…… the guitars pioneering and lusty as a forestry crew in kauranga valley the drums as inviting and as jubilant as steam through soil on a hangi pit…and when that hurling vocal tone of ‘asian cigarettes’ came thrusting up the windpipe and down the shure 58 microphone I somehow felt happy and shiny.
Yes, the dobbyn may wear white long sleeve shirts, yes we may live in a town with a kiosk but THE song remains… hallelujah…
You’ve been listening to the usual bollocks on Friday morning… and can download this and all rants on http://honestdaverant.blogspot.com….
love your work...
remember the christmas CD of honest dave is just round the corner...
For those of you who were not able to cough up the 55$ for the dave dobbyn shows this week in the tron at the royal albert community pak and save theatre in Clarence st…. sit back… close your eyes…. honest dave is going to unleash the set list from the loudest living lepricorn of grey lynn
Here is the set list people:
The devil you know
Whaling
Accustomed to the light
Let the river go
You got heart
welcome home
Blind mans bend
Language
Pour the wine
Be mine tonight
Roll away the stone
Keep’n the flame
Slice of heaven
Loyal
Encore… and I could not believe it! but the band came back out and played more songs..
Beside you
Outrageous design
There you go.. you just heard all the songs and it did not cost you a cent.. honest dave again watching your back..
Its not every minstrel that the Hamilton city council lets play at the prestigious community theatre in clarence st… but what lurks in the grand ole Madison square gardens community theatre of Clarence st is a secret that lurks on the ground floor. the ‘kiosk’ was open… and I knew I was nowhere but in Hamilton.
Oh yes.. after the sensational little bushmen of Wellington played their set, punters paying $55 a ticket could retire to the ‘kiosk’ for yes… bags of potato chips, or chose from the selection of lollies in colourful plastic bags hanging on the wall like prizes at a dodgey shooting alley at the winter show. Also, you could uplift an aliminuim can of sprite or coca cola. The beverages were placed, side by side, on the counter so as to aid the punter in your decision making..
I was humilitated…. As I stared in disbelief at the ‘kiosk’ of the exquisitely named ‘community theatre’ of Clarence st I could only shudder and mumble inane comments to the keeper of the ‘kiosk’ as my mouth experienced lock jaw in the sudden realization that THIS, THIS place was my community theatre..that hip citizens like warren maxwell might have left backstage and been confronted by the kiosk in its very Hamiltonesque hitchcock horror…and lived to laugh the tale with company in the capital city…
And this I thought as my mouth locked, half my face fighting paralysis… was Hamilton in a ‘kiosk’- shell, if you will. This was it. If I had an honest polaroid… this would be the defining image of Hamilton-ness…no not Fairfield bridge, not the water tower at the lake but the kiosk of Clarence st is Hamilton-ness captured, contained, unmasked, on show
I could have run to the hills but I have a young family and a pregnant wife… that would not do. I could deny the kiosk never existed, that I never saw it, but that would not be just towards the jewish community. I could pour petrol over the kiosk during the sing along to ‘slice of heaven’ but after guy fawkes the firepersons are all dog tired – to put the fire out would put them out. I thought then maybe I could call the minister of froeign affairs and tell him there was an over-staying ‘ kiosk’ pretending to be a café in Clarence st. I was at a loss…
Anyways, kiosk aside… what you got for your 55$ last night was
5$ worth of unfunny female interuptee from audience
$7.50 of telecasters –a sunburst one and a red one
10$ of long vocal note in ‘whaling’ – a lot of lung in that little lepricorn 2.50$ of ross burge kick ass kick drum action 3$ Bones Hillman’s mighty bass lines of rhythm and whiteness on 4 strings only – keeping it real 5$ for four times ‘god bless you’s’ from saint dobbyn… 1.50 of 4 rock n roll picks on gaffer tape on mic stand. 1.50$ bird flu jokes
but that’s all small change, a nonsense, a nothing.. for the $19, a mere bargain, you got ‘be mine tonight’
a classic number – a beautiful enchanting chiming guitar crusade of open strings and twanging tone with a lead gat line that makes me feel like a new Zealander, that every day is Waitangi day…. the song sonically washed over me as if lounging in whangamata surf, as kiwi as the tune of a morepork in a cabbage tree. My spinal chord resonated. The toi tois were blowing in the wind and I was at one with aoteroa in a strange way, the song defining the brawn of our country, the bass line as bouncy and strong as any east cape hillscape…… the guitars pioneering and lusty as a forestry crew in kauranga valley the drums as inviting and as jubilant as steam through soil on a hangi pit…and when that hurling vocal tone of ‘asian cigarettes’ came thrusting up the windpipe and down the shure 58 microphone I somehow felt happy and shiny.
Yes, the dobbyn may wear white long sleeve shirts, yes we may live in a town with a kiosk but THE song remains… hallelujah…
You’ve been listening to the usual bollocks on Friday morning… and can download this and all rants on http://honestdaverant.blogspot.com….
love your work...
remember the christmas CD of honest dave is just round the corner...
posted by Honest Dave at 10:59 am
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