'It was frightening. And excellent.'

I went to see Cake last night at the Enmore, which for those not in the know is a small theatre not so very far from my place. It was a night that I didn't expect a great deal from, and as is often the way, it turned out to be incredibly awesome.

First and foremost, it gave me a chance to go out wearing some spanking new leather gear, which made me feel all hardcore and cool (yeah, laugh it up. I am).

The theatre itself rocked. I'd never been there before, and was pleasantly surprised to see moulded plaster ceilings, directions to the 'Gents' and the 'Powder Room', and mega-cool iron light fittings. I could see it as a totally rocking burlesque venue ... but in these conservative times, it is instead a totally rocking live music venue, and knowing that it's cool makes me wish even more that I had laid out my ten-bazillion dollars last year to see the Stones play there.

But what really blew me away was just how good the band was. They were just sensational. Right up there with the Dresden Dolls gig last year -- although that was a pub gig, and so maybe not comparable.

Their trumpeter must think he's all that. Every damn time that he played so much as a note -- hell, every time he so much as reached for the trumpet -- the crowd went wild.

It is my belief that the guy up front of the band was hammered. No, wait, let me rephrase: it is my fervent hope that the guy up front of the band was hammered. He launched off into these mad segues, conducted the crowd in singing the choruses of the songs (over and over and over - I think we sang one of them for about ten minutes - first one section, then the next, the men, then the women, the tall, then the short), and at one point stopped in the middle of a song to treat us to a seven-minute spiel on the biological differences between men and women, and how this relates to methods of communication. The natural precursor to having us sing the chorus for ten minutes, no?

My favourite part, though, was the spiel about what a wonderful place Sydney is. I thought he'd forgotten the name of the place -- natural assumption after twenty minutes or so of talk about the 'powerful, uninhibited voices of, uhhhh, this wonderful city!' Anyhow, he eventually figured it out, or something, because he came out with this gem:

"Thank you for having me in your ... Sydney. It's a beautiful city. I had the opportunity today to walk in ... your park ... and I saw giant bats. It was frightening. And excellent."

Frightening. And excellent.

Ayup.