The other night we did a show in Murwillumbah – the Australian Hotel to be precise. As usual it was warm and humid and as usual, I, Lethal Lee Steel was lamenting the loss of the winter months. How I love those golden leaves. Anyway, 3 songs into the show my attention is deflected from the steel fretboard by a flurry of movement over uncle S’ side of the stage accompanied by an almighty crack. Two cracks in fact. One was the sound of Uncle’s banjo DI getting crushed under a rather large arse and the other crack was the sound of the large arse’s owners’ head impacting with the hardwood wall of the pub. It was a mighty fall even thought I didnt actually see it, but it looked as thought the Re-mains had done it again…it looked as though they had KILLED ANOTHER MAN with Country Rock and Roll. T’was not so. An ambulance arrived – 2 in fact – to drag his sore and sorry arse and head out of there. I can tell you this. If I needed an ambo in Mur’bah, I would be hoping that it wouldnt be for something too serious. One could die waiting. I think it was half an hour before we got going again.

Funny how things set the tone for a gig. Probably we should have all thrown ourselves at the wall, crown first and stopped there. Awww….it was Ok I guess. The next next in Lismore really showcased how lame the town has become. It’s like this; you’ve got kiss-arse live sounds going on at the Gollan and most people are staying at home and (in my opinion) are watching satelite TV and surfing the net and playing Playstation. It’s true. Tim Freedman should be blowing up those things ’cause the pokies are played by square-eye old codgers with no memory of the war and not people who would normally consume stuff like we serve up. The young (the young…god, listen to me) for that matter are more interseted in playing the real estate market and buying hatchbacks. God what a horrible vision this paints for the future.

Cha…