11/8/05 Geelong

Flying gave us the luxury of late awakenings and new Taragos. Setting up in Geelong and a fellow walks in off the street and asks if we need lights done – he’s a proper lighting professional in the lighting industry, he tells us. Needs to work on his presentation…Matt (Matt Handley and the Dagger Stares, touring compadres) gives him a direct no. Jamie likes the idea, engages with the man. Discourages busy lights though. Professional assures no busy light show tonight – he’s already drunk too much beer and smoked too much pot. He does the lights when we soundcheck – much too busy – Jamie tells him to slow down…he goes away and we never see him again.

We play through haze of cobwebs.

12/8/05 Angelsea and Melbourne

Warwick – photographer extraordinaire – directs us south onto the rugged, beautiful coast. Leads us through the headland heath to the cliffs’ edge. Cliff backs an abandoned, stretching beach, buffed by a bitterly cold westerly. ‘Very Bluebottle Kiss’, he says. Directs us to stand here and there. We’re the notes, he the composer. The cliff his instrument. Directs us closer. Closer. Creases in the cliff showing the next chunk destined for the beach. Us on the wrong side of the crease. Laughing nervously. 

Northcote Social Club is very nice to us. As are the crowd. So polite I can every harmonic Jamie hits in the quiet bit of Homeless Blueless. So quiet that when he momentarily misplaces the words for Beautifully Tragic in the encore and abandons it, I ask the crowd who will give him a hug, and no-one makes a sound. So I give him one. I know everyone in the crowd wanted to give him one but were all too shy. Few cobwebs tonight.

13-14/8/05 Adelaide

Jive is a cool little venue with mezzanine et al. Adelaide versus Adelaide in Australian Football League. AFL versus BBK in entertainment tonight. We play late for an upper hand. We play well. Judges undecided. Good for the game, they say. We think we have it – AFL (ex)player watching us.

We are hungry now, eat on other side of town. Try to parallel park with 2 goths arguing black and blue in carspace. He’s getting violent. Looks like dorky spiderman, but with evil, not good, in his heart. He’s gonna kill her, he reckons. We watch. Pushing, shoving. None of us feeling physical, but if need be…he leaves in a huff, she’s shattered…we go to see if she’s ok, he turns and runs back towards us. He runs square into a pole.

We eat and go to bed. Half an hour later we wake. Karl (Larson, other touring compadre) asks what was that noise outside. It’s dark, cold and he turns the TV off. We wait for the noise in silence. It sounds again... it’s a magpie. I want to be somewhere else again, somewhere I think magpies sound like rusty cars. We leave, catch the plane. Back to earth.