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Pub Lunches and the Book of the Dead
May. 22nd, 2011 09:25 amThanks to everyone who joined us for lunch at the Northcote Social Club yesterday.
It was an excellent day. Good food, good friends, and good conversation.
(And thanks too to everyone who apologised for not being able to make it. It would have been great to see you, of course. But the whole point of a pub lunch is to be laid back and casual. If you can rock up, rock up. If not, there'll be another one in a month or so.)
The only bad thing, really, was the weather. It was completely wrong. Pub lunches work best when it's cold and raining outside, not warm with clear blue skies.
We managed to work around such hardships.
The dining patio out back isn't quite as atmospheric as the Napier Hotel's beloved pool room. The food, however, more than makes up for it. Not only is it delicious, with a tasty Spanish influence, there are also plenty of both gluten-free and vegetarian options. A. and I ate ourselves silly.
The NSC does need to lift its game in regards to the toilet graffiti there. Since it's Northcote, I'll assume all the death-metal tagging is ironic. But it's still not very interesting to read.
B and D gave us a lift home.
We had a bit a of a grandpa nap.
And then we went into town to see Mick Harvey launch his new solo CD, Sketches from the Book of the Dead.
The launch was at the Toff in Town. We arrived early enough to score one of the tables down the front. This whole cabaret-style seating at rock gigs still feels a bit weird to me. I'm getting old, though, and I appreciated not having to stand all night.
The support act was Celery, a young woman and her Fender Jaguar playing droning, Cat Powers style songs. She had a great voice, of the sort that gets called "ethereal". She was bit shy to begin with, but warmed up. Two friends joined her on stage for her last two songs, ending with a cover of The Stooges' "Dirt".
They all looked very young. But they were all very talented. And given my novel is about young women starting a band and playing rock and roll, my heart did swell a little bit to see it in action.
I've said before Mick Harvey looks less like a rock star, and more like someone's dad. Last night, he was a grumpy dad.
It was a rough night. The PA had problems, someone's phone kept playing music, and Harvey had to tell the talkative Toff crowd to shut up and show some respect for the music.
The music was worth it.
Haunting Australian folk-gothic. Paul Kelly meets the Paradise Motel. Harvey sang and played acoustic guitar, backed by a double bass player and a violinist/guitarist/accordian player. They started out with quiet folk-style songs, and built up to a bluesy wall-of-noise.
You could argue, as the review I linked to above does, that the music was a bit too close to the Bad Seeds sound to distinguish Harvey's solo work from that of his former bandmates.
The counter-argument would be a) Harvey helped invent the Bad Seeds sound and b) this folk-blues-wall-of-noise sound is now an established tradition in Australian music, and it's what an artist does within that tradition that distiguishes him from his peers. (Also, c) It's Mick Harvey. Shut up and show some respect.)
Harvey has none of Cave's swagger, or vitriol, or ornate sentimentality. What he has is a laconic introspection, the sound of a man alone, beer glass in hand, haunted by his memories of the departed.
The various problems on the night visibly irritated Harvey. He's a veteran performer, though, and the music shone through clearly. A great night, to finish off a great day.
The Age has an informative interview with Harvey, where he talks about his album and why he left the Bad Seeds.
I tried to find a link for Celery, but that has to be one of the least Google-able names ever. I got some links to an American prog band with the same name, and lots of recipes. Still, she's worth a listen, if she's playing near you.
It was an excellent day. Good food, good friends, and good conversation.
(And thanks too to everyone who apologised for not being able to make it. It would have been great to see you, of course. But the whole point of a pub lunch is to be laid back and casual. If you can rock up, rock up. If not, there'll be another one in a month or so.)
The only bad thing, really, was the weather. It was completely wrong. Pub lunches work best when it's cold and raining outside, not warm with clear blue skies.
We managed to work around such hardships.
The dining patio out back isn't quite as atmospheric as the Napier Hotel's beloved pool room. The food, however, more than makes up for it. Not only is it delicious, with a tasty Spanish influence, there are also plenty of both gluten-free and vegetarian options. A. and I ate ourselves silly.
The NSC does need to lift its game in regards to the toilet graffiti there. Since it's Northcote, I'll assume all the death-metal tagging is ironic. But it's still not very interesting to read.
B and D gave us a lift home.
We had a bit a of a grandpa nap.
And then we went into town to see Mick Harvey launch his new solo CD, Sketches from the Book of the Dead.
~
The launch was at the Toff in Town. We arrived early enough to score one of the tables down the front. This whole cabaret-style seating at rock gigs still feels a bit weird to me. I'm getting old, though, and I appreciated not having to stand all night.
The support act was Celery, a young woman and her Fender Jaguar playing droning, Cat Powers style songs. She had a great voice, of the sort that gets called "ethereal". She was bit shy to begin with, but warmed up. Two friends joined her on stage for her last two songs, ending with a cover of The Stooges' "Dirt".
They all looked very young. But they were all very talented. And given my novel is about young women starting a band and playing rock and roll, my heart did swell a little bit to see it in action.
~
I've said before Mick Harvey looks less like a rock star, and more like someone's dad. Last night, he was a grumpy dad.
It was a rough night. The PA had problems, someone's phone kept playing music, and Harvey had to tell the talkative Toff crowd to shut up and show some respect for the music.
The music was worth it.
Haunting Australian folk-gothic. Paul Kelly meets the Paradise Motel. Harvey sang and played acoustic guitar, backed by a double bass player and a violinist/guitarist/accordian player. They started out with quiet folk-style songs, and built up to a bluesy wall-of-noise.
You could argue, as the review I linked to above does, that the music was a bit too close to the Bad Seeds sound to distinguish Harvey's solo work from that of his former bandmates.
The counter-argument would be a) Harvey helped invent the Bad Seeds sound and b) this folk-blues-wall-of-noise sound is now an established tradition in Australian music, and it's what an artist does within that tradition that distiguishes him from his peers. (Also, c) It's Mick Harvey. Shut up and show some respect.)
Harvey has none of Cave's swagger, or vitriol, or ornate sentimentality. What he has is a laconic introspection, the sound of a man alone, beer glass in hand, haunted by his memories of the departed.
The various problems on the night visibly irritated Harvey. He's a veteran performer, though, and the music shone through clearly. A great night, to finish off a great day.
~
The Age has an informative interview with Harvey, where he talks about his album and why he left the Bad Seeds.
I tried to find a link for Celery, but that has to be one of the least Google-able names ever. I got some links to an American prog band with the same name, and lots of recipes. Still, she's worth a listen, if she's playing near you.
