Ever had two consecutive bowls of cereal? Why is the 2nd never even the slightest bit as good as the 1st? Stuff like that fucks me up! It’s the day after the launch party and I ain’t hung-over a drop. I try to render why this should be and conclude that I wasn’t fuckin’ drunk enough to suffer any short-term ailments, nor were I outrageous enough to cavort with any anecdotes I may have had of the eve. This depresses me as the previous morning I was bouncing around charged with the giddiness I held for the shindig.
Anyway, set the scene....
Boomin’ sunshine, the hottest day of ’09 thus far, and I’m shitting myself with excitement like a kid at Christmas at the very thought of what may occur in the next 24 hours. Firstly the very name EVERYTHING ON TOAST gives me a hard-on, and secondly, I haven’t been out for a fair while as the ass raping life that is London has kept me locked away counting my pennies, so I can live superior class to ‘on the streets’ in the deepest knife-crime east-side! Y’gand?
I have to mention at this point that the day before I’d had a haircut at some backhand barbers, where the professional in question had proceeded to pop my ‘open-blade cut’ cherry by repeatedly hacking at my hair with a BIG FUCKING KNIFE! The fact that he couldn’t quite see straight and wore a hearing aid really didn’t comfort me an iota, not only could he of easily chopped into one of my precious little ears, but he wouldn’t of been able hear the screams I thrust while trying to piece my lobe back together. I finished the cut myself in the safety of my bathroom, but I may need therapy if I’m to consider visiting another haircuttery. Mental scarring, thankfully not actual flesh scarring!
I arrived at the venue (Filthy Mc-get-your-fuckin-drum-kit-out-of-my-pub-nasty’s) at around fourteen hundred hours (2pm to those anti 24) armed with the still-damp-blackboards I had painted in my loft the night before, and a bag full of records which I never got to play. Enter Chris ‘Y’aryte you cant?’ YES, I was alright, I was well on for a massive party, I was thirsty for it. And excited at seeing my brother and everyone else who was journeying down from the north to show their support for us, the prospect was overwhelming. But the good vibes died as soon as the crazy eyed landlady stepped her one good foot into our arena, and from that moment everything started to go wrong....
Fortunately I don’t care to talk of these aspects that could of at any moment ‘pulled the plug’ on the show, I wish to concentrate my recollections on the actual massive success of the night and the glory that will bathe the memoirs of all who participated and experienced the damn fine music and fucking great atmosphere.
Go...
The debut performance of our debut show was by one of the most talented individuals I have ever met, and I was greatly honoured that he was part of it. MAYOR McCA; a Canadian multi-instrumentalist with songs that touch genius and a performance that makes you work up a sweat just watching him, and he’s got a great beard. He’s a pure born entertainer, I was in tears at his wit and charisma. I just wish the crowd had stopped flirting with each other and give him a bit more attention. ‘Hey man you gotta nice job’ – Genius!
Weaving through the live performances, Disco Jockies Tom ‘I’m the fuckin’ big lad, get a load of my sweet moves’ Newell, and G-to the rizzo ‘What the fuck you lookin’ at’ Lover, laced the anti-decadent foyer to hell with Tee-unes, it were seamless!
Next on a rare acoustic performance from London town’s own SPEED CIRCUS, usually a 7 tentacled indie beast with controls set for the heart of the sun, but tonight sees them a perfectly formed 2 piece with rapid anthems and an army ready to rip the place apart at their word. ‘Speed army, speed army’
Swivelling from sound desk to decks and back again G-Dog took the lunges as well as the tunes, while Beeps smashed the venues licensing policy to pieces, then took a shit on it and threw it in the face of the mardy barkeep with sunken eyes, and what some would call the look of a ‘smack-head’ by laying down some classic hip hop, legend.
Shortly after the ‘Speed army’ stopped rocking the fragile walls Littlelostdavid took to the stage with long term friend and all time drumming master Bassy the bad man, and immediately the lairy crowd were silenced, and looked on in awe and appreciation at the spectacle before them. The useless dog shit excuse for a PA just about held up as Dave launched his sonic attack upon the venue, threatening the very foundations under our feet with soaring crescendos of entwined vocal authority and punctuating percussive rhythms, forgiving only to let the delicate-to-aggressive guitar competence protrude.
With LLD off stage and the Sheffield contingent manning the music station every face I saw and every word I heard was congratulating and grateful of this wonderful event.
Well a few words from our deepest heartbags...
WE LOVE YOU, THANK YOU SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SOO SOOOOO SO MUCH FOR BEING APART OF THE OPENING EXCURSION EVERTHING ON TOAST PARTOOK, IT WOULD OF BEEN AWFUL AND DOWNRIGHT EMBARRASSING HAD YOU NOT BEEN THERE. FOR IT WAS FOR YOU!
SPECIAL THANKS TO GLOVER, TOM, DANIEL, DAVID & BASSY (LLD), TOM & ? (SPEED CIRCUS), CA (MAYOR McCA), MATT & BEN, PAUL, AND JOEL. SHOUT OUTS TO LUCY, ANDY, OWEN, FENDER, NICK & JAMES FOR MAKIN THE EFFORT TO DISCEND FROM LEEDS & SHEFFIELD.
FUCK THE MONARCH!
ON TOAST!
X
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