Wednesday 17th April - The Bee Hive Swindon
Wow! He must be 75+ and he’s still an insanely smiling fruitcake of a man… A hero (or should that be zero) of mine, his wry sense of humour partially sound tracked my early 20’s and beyond, a wise man of sensible nonsense, wrapping his wares in blissful trip(tics) and space whispers...
A lot of people made the pilgrimage to this tiny public house in the middle of Swineville, many multi-coloured and tie-dyed garments dragging themselves back into the light... happily dispelling my belief that drivelling R'n'B is the bloodstream of this town... recognised some old Beehive regulars from back in the day, they shuffled around like grey haired ghosts... maybe they were...
Daevid started with some unaccompanied spoken word shirazzzz, some mighty fine weaponising poetry... his wit was sharp as ever, gnawing away at farce-book and the blandness of our age like a little white haired terrier...
An oscillating Korg drone from Kangaroo Moon's Mark Robson (who supplied the keyboards for that night) started the night off proper... this guy in the wings, perhaps a local recruit? tapped on a tabla - slightly out of sync with the others… but it seemed to work when all gliss sawn and didgeridoo(ed) over... Oh man this was beautiful as Allen's voice cut a live rendition of 'Why do we treat ourselves like we do?' It purred, hooked you up completely in the blissful shadows ... 'A man with no mind kills a crowd of his kind while proclaiming his soul to be free' ...as relative now as it was when first penned...his eyes were closed , mouth grinning between words... Before heading out I’d randomly picked up a cd off my shelves for possible fan boy signings... was a freaky coincidence that he played a tune off it. Was secretly hoping for a live version of this aswell...
but it wasn't to be...
Some unknown vibes followed, songs thematically spun round the subject of gardening that were in danger of being too softly focused and Genesis(y) if it wasn't for Daevid keeping it nicely smeared and sparkle hoofed ... then more poetry ensued... tour diary extracts from when Brainville (or should that be Brain Gravy) toured Tel Aviv... his words hung like crowing birds.. all wonkily descriptive and highly comedic... unravelling in Thomas Wolf electric kool aids... Kafka glass reflecting back the atmosphere... as if words were time machines transporting you there in vivid blasts... In the tale, the tour promoter finally asks, 'How do you like Tel Aviv?'… to which Daevid replies...'I love the place...don't you know I’m Australian… like you, we occupied a country, wiped away its indigenous inhabitants and claimed it for our own'… Daevid smiled, took a deep breath - then semi laughed the poem's end words ‘awkward silence’…
Spikes of wah and arrowing directives followed, University of Errors stylee... a song about lying apparently, a catchy chorus of 'lie lie lie lie la la lie' as Allen said should be 'honesty honesty...' then added 'nah, would never work. The devil has all the best tunes' ... A short break ensued for hugs, and plenty of beaming fans waving recently bought merchandise at him...I got my cd signed... Mr Allen, wide eyed, pointed at the inscription going 'oink, oink'... like a loveable loon...
Returning to the stage everything got more angsty… loopy loopage, a blur of hidden words in noisy repeats… nostalgic thoughts of Divided Alien pLAYbax 80
crept round the additional gliss explosions and multi-dimensional dives…a raucous mood that eddied off into a gentle guitar chordage... There was something recognisable floating in on those rotating chords then the words broke and confirmed my suspicions .... Yesss!!!... Deya Goddess... What a bloody glorious finale!.. Daevid forgot a few verses, filled them with improvised mumbles and la-la's but it's wasn't long until it's was a 'Now is the happiest time of your life' sing a thon, a quick glance around confirmed almost everybody was singing along too... A great night that certainly jangled your inner hippie…
Wow! He must be 75+ and he’s still an insanely smiling fruitcake of a man… A hero (or should that be zero) of mine, his wry sense of humour partially sound tracked my early 20’s and beyond, a wise man of sensible nonsense, wrapping his wares in blissful trip(tics) and space whispers...
A lot of people made the pilgrimage to this tiny public house in the middle of Swineville, many multi-coloured and tie-dyed garments dragging themselves back into the light... happily dispelling my belief that drivelling R'n'B is the bloodstream of this town... recognised some old Beehive regulars from back in the day, they shuffled around like grey haired ghosts... maybe they were...
Daevid started with some unaccompanied spoken word shirazzzz, some mighty fine weaponising poetry... his wit was sharp as ever, gnawing away at farce-book and the blandness of our age like a little white haired terrier...
An oscillating Korg drone from Kangaroo Moon's Mark Robson (who supplied the keyboards for that night) started the night off proper... this guy in the wings, perhaps a local recruit? tapped on a tabla - slightly out of sync with the others… but it seemed to work when all gliss sawn and didgeridoo(ed) over... Oh man this was beautiful as Allen's voice cut a live rendition of 'Why do we treat ourselves like we do?' It purred, hooked you up completely in the blissful shadows ... 'A man with no mind kills a crowd of his kind while proclaiming his soul to be free' ...as relative now as it was when first penned...his eyes were closed , mouth grinning between words... Before heading out I’d randomly picked up a cd off my shelves for possible fan boy signings... was a freaky coincidence that he played a tune off it. Was secretly hoping for a live version of this aswell...
but it wasn't to be...
Some unknown vibes followed, songs thematically spun round the subject of gardening that were in danger of being too softly focused and Genesis(y) if it wasn't for Daevid keeping it nicely smeared and sparkle hoofed ... then more poetry ensued... tour diary extracts from when Brainville (or should that be Brain Gravy) toured Tel Aviv... his words hung like crowing birds.. all wonkily descriptive and highly comedic... unravelling in Thomas Wolf electric kool aids... Kafka glass reflecting back the atmosphere... as if words were time machines transporting you there in vivid blasts... In the tale, the tour promoter finally asks, 'How do you like Tel Aviv?'… to which Daevid replies...'I love the place...don't you know I’m Australian… like you, we occupied a country, wiped away its indigenous inhabitants and claimed it for our own'… Daevid smiled, took a deep breath - then semi laughed the poem's end words ‘awkward silence’…
Spikes of wah and arrowing directives followed, University of Errors stylee... a song about lying apparently, a catchy chorus of 'lie lie lie lie la la lie' as Allen said should be 'honesty honesty...' then added 'nah, would never work. The devil has all the best tunes' ... A short break ensued for hugs, and plenty of beaming fans waving recently bought merchandise at him...I got my cd signed... Mr Allen, wide eyed, pointed at the inscription going 'oink, oink'... like a loveable loon...
Returning to the stage everything got more angsty… loopy loopage, a blur of hidden words in noisy repeats… nostalgic thoughts of Divided Alien pLAYbax 80
crept round the additional gliss explosions and multi-dimensional dives…a raucous mood that eddied off into a gentle guitar chordage... There was something recognisable floating in on those rotating chords then the words broke and confirmed my suspicions .... Yesss!!!... Deya Goddess... What a bloody glorious finale!.. Daevid forgot a few verses, filled them with improvised mumbles and la-la's but it's wasn't long until it's was a 'Now is the happiest time of your life' sing a thon, a quick glance around confirmed almost everybody was singing along too... A great night that certainly jangled your inner hippie…
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