What the hell happened to gig audiences? I’ll come back to this. First time I’d been to Nambucca since the fire that gutted it. The insurance money's created a new spacious look I like. I get a drink and wait for the DJ to stop playing and the bands to start up out back. After a protracted period of this not happening I go round the back to investigate only to find there’s now a separate closed-off room where the bands perform. Who knew? I see a band who don’t do anything for me, wonder if I’ve missed Patch William, the band I’ve come to see. Luckily I haven’t. They do a cool set ending with a really rocking indie tune called Skinny White Boy which I’m considering ditching the camera for in order to dance to. Glancing at the audience they’re as static as hypnotised cult members, apart from two couples in the corner who seem to think they’re attending a barn-dancing contest. To my dismay, the table I’m filming from starts to rock slightly – one attendee’s contribution to the night is a bit of swaying against the furniture. In fairness the audience gives decent verbal feedback. Couple of clips below.
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Ian McLachlan
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