The Drunk Rocker

Another Drunken Attack

Who knows what happened...

I was quietly disposed to go to that radio show, do my thing without drinking too much, and head over to Les Saints to hear MSTRKRFT in the middle of a nice crowd. But vows never last, and promises to ourselves which we have made while muttering cannot be heard by others, and we consequently do not feel the need to keep them.

So there we are : I finished work at 9, rushed over to my place to pick up my stash of CD's and take a quick shower, and arrived at CHOQ's studio 10 minutes before 10. And I managed to drink a Rev on my way there while biking ! I started mixing right away - well, as soon as we got into the studio - and only got to understand the mixer around my 4th track. I always have a hard time "getting" the various cross fade options and can't seem to picture anybody using it in a different way than I do. I guess that's fascism, right ?

Anyway, I became a party monster. Not a pouty Culkin; an out of control, vodka-filled freak. It does happen, yes. Happened at the W when Boys Noize was in town, and it happened yesterday as well. You cannot measure how much vodka you ingest when you don't prepare your own drinks. And there's a frontier that you can easily cross between having control and losing it. At one moment you feel alright and still think you know what you're doing, and then you just crawl on the floor, growling, naked.

The funny thing is that some people only have seen me in this state. I remember this guy whose picture I took at the W : he was there yesterday, and as I was telling him about it, he laughed his ass off, barely remembered the event, and told me he was way too drunk. Well so was I. And so am I again. David Coverdale says : "Here I go again".



At least I'm not a cokehead. And I usually do not pay for my booze, thankfully.

Back to the radio show. After playing for more than an hour, the girls interviewed me, and I guess I was already beginning my delirium. Back to the music, midnight came, and we did another hour for another entirely different show these girls are doing. Pirate Radio is what it's called - and no, I'm no Chris Sheppard. I tried playing darker music, but you always end up going back to your roots : the drunken mixing.

Actually, if I ever look for a good barometer of my drunkeness, I should look at how I mix. If the beat matching skills in my brain are sleeping, and I can't get anything straight, can't make out if I should accelerate or slow down a track, it means bad.

And bad IS bad ! We got to Les Saints shortly after 1 AM, and MSTRKRFT were already onstage. The crowd was small, and everybody was in front, having fun. I located Mr. Finances rather rapidly, and bumped into the Tron & Bruce Benson a few minutes afterwards. I don't remember that much of this part, though, so it's possible I did some stupid drunken things... And if it's the case, my most sincere apologies go out to those who felt offended.

Offended I was by these underage chicks, dancing on stage, with very few clothes. In fact, I do believe that they came with the guys from TO. As part of a group. And that they had conspired to put on the tiniest clothes they could find in their wardrobes. One of the girls wore a skirt that hid little of her booty. Her friend had a v-neck t-shirt revealing a very generous cleavage that could barely be contained. In fact she had to make sure, every five minutes or so, that her breasts were still in there.

Another of the girls dancing with a striped dress had to constantly hike it down cuz otherwise, we would have thought she was buck naked - not unlike George Costanza in certain situations.

Miss Bijoux & I, after a short fight involving stupidity (mainly on my part, but I can't remember for sure), left the club without saying goodbye to anybody and headed home on our bikes. Don't drink & drive, kids, as it proves to be rather difficult. We made it safely.

So this morning, when my alarm rang, it had a devastating effect on my peace of mind. If there was a day in my life where I would have rather stayed in bed than done anything, it was today. Maybe some other time, too, but today was very brutal. I am sitting at the office, trying to look normal, half asleep on my chair while my manager welcomes some unknown guests in her office, just behind me. I need grease. I need some sleep. I need another season of SIX FEET UNDER to get the day going and I need another week off to recover from my week off.

Bad timing : tonight's the night. Kick le Clavecin, Théâtre Plaza, 6-8$, aligator blues. I'm on at 11.

posted by Clifford Brown @ 15:10