October 5, 2017
We are being so well looked after here.
I am fortunate indeed to have the people about me that I do.
It is not hard to find common ground and we share a language beyond the dictionary.
The dressing room is very well appointed, and the stage was made for heels to glide.
John is sick. I drag him an armchair into his room so that he can rest easier. I make him lemsip and garnish it with honey and ginger.
I forbid him entering my room with his lurgy.
I am a game of 2 halves.
Our warm up can be heard onstage as our support act Steve Balbi, who is going down very well, is performing, so we remove to the catering room and sing there instead.
I am anxious though, and this is an unusual state for me these days.
We are unable to bring with us a crew complete to every territory and thus our lighting designer is different from the one we travelled with in America.
Not only would this be his first gig with me, but the first time he will ever have seen me play live.
A baptism of fire.
The ceiling is white and throws more light upon me than I am comfortable with.
I feel exposed.
I see more faces than I am accustomed to.
They too must feel exposed and inhibited.
This is not the cause of my disquiet.
I have not played here in 30 years.
I know from years of playlists that my evolving has not been registered in Australian media, while the old hits still have a place on nostalgic radio shows.
I am hoping above hope I have actual followers of mine coming rather than just fans of ‘that’ decade, as represented as it is in my set.
This will also be the first sit down show of the tour.
The sound which was echoey and imprecise onstage in sound check, proved to be very pleasing on the night.
James had to focus hard, but in that event, provided me a very good monitor sound.
Between him and Darren out front, I had no problems at all and felt good singing.
I felt physically well.
I could hear myself.
Quickly, though, it was evident that only a few people had heard the ‘Other’ album that this ‘The Other Tour’ supports.
Many were ‘music’ people that came anyway for a live experience and to share the journey and are not afraid of surprise, but a good cut were nostalgia trippers.
To these fans of entertainment, I am not an artist.
I am a throw back and they want to feel good.
They want jaunty or gentle and I am neither of these beasts.
I was in good voice and I gave it my every effort.
Without familiar hooks this is irrelevant to that element.
They were unmoved when what I was performing was not an 80’s hit.
Having a 35 year career as a writer and performer this was not going to be every song, and indeed, in an hour 40 set, and 11 studio albums to date, neither was every hit included.
Later on FaceBook a man tells me that is my arrogance and I am obliged to play songs that made me money 35 years ago.
I wish he had only visited my FB anytime in the last 6 years and he might have spared both his pocket and his blood pressure.
I tried to focus merely on my supporters and the open minded but it was hard.
I talked too much. Too long.
I second guessed.
I shuffled the set list to my shame.
I even took the plain speaking Aussie reputation a little too literally as I raised my voice in a diatribe against a shout for ‘Invisible’.
I had tried to give them the heads up at the outset that I wouldn’t be taking requests.
Both the band and crew, and management took that as my having lost my temper.
For me it was an everyday tone of voice for a Moyet dinner table and whilst I was strident, I wasn’t at all apoplectic.
We encore with a couple of hits so the energy in the audience at the end was high.
I won some.
I lost some.
I am ashamed of myself.
In the dressing room the feedback is honest.
That has not spared me my woes.
We have a drink.
We go back to our beds.
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