Friday, January 28, 2011

Amanda Fucking Palmer Down Under- Melbourne/Sydney

australia day spectacular 1.26.11

dr. oz*
missed me*
in my mind
ampersand
sex changes
on an unknown beach (by ted jeffries)
coin-operated boy
mrs. o
tom traubert's blues* (by tom waits)
---readings by neil gaiman---
vegemite (the black death)
bad wine and lemon cake^ (by jaa)
---meow meow video---
the drover's boy* (by ted egan)
the ship song* (by nick cave)

map of tasmania~
oasis

*w/ mikelangelo and the black sea gentlemen
^ w/ the jane austen argument
~ w/ m+bsg, holly austin on beatbox, kim boekbinder rapping, go go dancers

(you know...i really can't tell you if this is the setlist or not...did mrs. o happen? maybe oasis was actually leeds united, maybe it was oasis...at the end of the night my setlist was a subway map of arrows and lines and chicken scrawl...amanda very succinctly summed it up here.)

and the truth hits like bricks. i remember now why i've never successfully blagged a tour a before.

i. just. don't. have. the time.

it amazes me that afp can pull it off. sitting down to write. finding pictures. uploading pictures. searching out links. its consuming. i want to do it. i need three more days before tomorrow comes. always.

melbourne...

all this running around the world fills my head with lists. rental cars i would never buy/drive for myself. venues i like. venues i don't like. countries where mcdonald's in a pinch is healthier than others (india). cities....

always cities. i'm a dork for infrastructure. civil engineering. how we define our movements through space and how spaces define our movements through them. livability. "find yourself a city, find yourself a city to live".

i found portland oregon and never looked back. and i could find melbourne, too.
melbourne is amazing. the similarities to pdx in life-style and attitude abound. the art. the transit. the people. all of it. new york to sydney's los angeles. the best of everywhere intelligently plotted down on the grid for its people...i could live here in a heartbeat. and hope to someday.

sadly it was too brief. a sluggish whirlwind of 10 hour internet cafe marathons, ep listening parties with the j.a.a., random shows in dirty bars with t and a and j and kb and jb, drinking games with l and smw, brunswick st. and wedding parties with the bats, coffee-cured brunches. an amazing three days...that left me longing for home. i will always miss home.

it will be good to come back in february. it still won't be enough time.

sydney and photos are just gonna have to wait. back to work!

Friday, January 21, 2011

hobart in pictures

we're in melbourne. the album has dropped. the heat has risen. the merch is flying and now it's all systems go. full on. i've been camping out in an internet cafe for the last 48 hours. oz IS magical, but the internet is frequently still 1998...are you there wireless? it's me, margaret....

moving on. here are some pics of hobart. which is an amazing city. for real. the festival. the people. the food. the wine. the topography. all of it. tasmania FTW. thank you everyone!

1.14.10 Amanda and Mikelangelo rehearse at IHOS opera w/ the Black Sea Gentlemen

1.16.10 #Twitnic in St. David's Park w/ The Jane Austen Argument. 50 people came to see/hear Tom and Jen being amazing...


1.16.10 Mikelangelo and I. after-hours ping pong in Mona Foma warehouse. the game of kings!

1.19.10 Ron, Mark, Neil, and Amanda on private tour with Mark Fraser at MONA. this is one half of one of my favorites. each light-bulb in the room is part of a chain of light-bulbs that starts in a long hallway around the corner. at the very fist light-bulb in the hallway is a machine that registers your heartbeat. your heartbeat is then sent to that first light-bulb - which pulses on and off to mirror your pulse. when the next person registers their heartbeat, the originally heart beat is transmitted to the next light-bulb in line. and the the third, the fourth, the fifth, etc. as each person registers their pulse. we are standing under an entire ceiling of individual human light-bulb heartbeats.

1.19.10 after hours tour at Bonorong Wildlife Park...a classic pose. we spent two hours feeding the kangaroos and tasmanian devils and echidnas and other local animals in this incredible animal refuge center.

1.19.10 Dianna is attacked by a vicious cabal of kangaroos. also, many of them were, ahem, aroused....

1.19.10 Nick Cave w/ Grinderman. all hail Nick Cave.
should i ever die in Hobart....please let me die like this. cenotaph in st. david's park.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Amanda Fucking Palmer Down Under- Hobart, 1.16.11

mona foma-1.15.11

australia
icarus
in my mind
missed me*
dr. oz*
vegemite*
formidable*
bad wine^
coin-op
drovers*
oasis*
leeds*
map of taz*^


* = with mikelangelo & the black sea gentlemen
^ = with the jane austen argument


(...that's how we write them. typing "lonesome organist rapes page turner" takes too damn long.)

it's 1:28 am after the Mona Foma show, another 19 hour work day draining the dregs of the jetlag and i've thought maybe just maybe i'll commit to blogging a whole tour for once...we'll see. hopefully this won't devolve into merciless whining and pageantry.
..

so many places i could start. the flight over from pdx and the nerd books i read. the drunken 12:am secret show at the brisbane hotel this morning. impressions of my first trip to Tasmania. the way my right pocket feels unbearably light with the weight of Brian Ritchie's business card..."tell me now, what do i have to do? now tell me now..." but how about here:

Most folks don't know i used to live in and work in japan. i played it straight after college and did what i thought i was supposed to do- despite the allure that kept creeping on my heart from running AFP's street team for a bit back in 2003/04. Various AFP trips to japan and tear-jerk email conversations later convinced me to quit the day job to move back to the states to work in rock and roll. and i never looked back. years later i count myself so fortunate to be able to travel the world and do what i do with and for my friends- doing my part to contribute to the joy that the artists i work for bring to their fans and friends.

a fact i never cease to forget when i see 90 minute/200 person autograph signing lines after the show. all the stories and gifts and emotions and tears that pour out onto the table to be captured in black sharpie marker scribbles on t-shirts and books and breasts and live action role play suits of armor. no joke. the dude is gonna get his LARPing vest embroidered where AFP signed her name- and now he does battle in the name of rock. with a styrofoam sword.

and tonight during the signing this girl comes running up to me and we make eye contact and establish recognition so quickly. she was another teacher in japan so many years ago. we haven't spoken since then. we were several cities apart by train but in the same state. she recognized me running around on stage taping setlists to the floor during the changeover. and again, another blessing- running into friends and strangers all over the world at the least unexpected moments.

the question/statement always arises "wow, it must be glamorous".

and yeah...to a certain extant...i suppose so...but not really. not at all. tour management. 24/7. johnny-on-the-spot. finger-on-the-pulse marathons. solving the problems and putting out the fires. It's the best job i've ever had, and the one i take the most seriously. work consumes me in some blind ayn randian devotion. i pace and bite my nails and pick at my scalp and pace some more in nervous anticipation/adrenaline-pumping excitement. i forget to shower, or eat, for days. i'm losing my hair. the potential for glamour lurks elusively around the corner, but it's my job, and i don't have time for that-

-because i'm too busy pacing. and loving it. i have a US blackberry, Aussie mobile, laptop, ipod, little black book and pen, sticky notes to get everything done. despite the tools, my wrists are doodled in sharpie scrawl- errands and important phone numbers that get smudged away when i wipe the sweat from my forehead. i try to stay calm. i run all over the place. do we have markers? silver paint pens? is the merch table prepared for the signing? who am i settling with? i need some cash. N needs a phone charger. the JAA need a casio keyboard for their ninja gig. the stage manager needs setlists. i need my credentials. R needs a photopass. G needs permission to film. how much do the books cost? how far to the hotel? where is the lost jacket? (THANK YOU awesome waiter and waitress from lunch, who recognized me 5 HOURS LATER running around the venue, for telling me the jacket was still at the restaurant! GAWD hobart is small!). have you met S yet? where's our transport coordinator? who still hasn't ordered dinner? where is the corset? does the band know the running order? where is the rental keyboard going? what time is N on? is the water room temperature? put the ukelele on the drum riser- no. the keyboard riser. what's the fine for going 5 minutes over curfew? that big huh,? ouch. is the instant camera loaded? is there more beer? we found you the hair clippers. get the security escort. help fasten this corset. need more setlists at FoH....and it goes on. and on. and i love every fucking minute of it....

... i couldn't imagine doing anything else. for real. and today i get to do it here. in the sunshine. in Hobart. where everyone has been SUPER friendly and helpful and this town is really kinda cute. and the view from my hotel window looks like the southwest hills of pdx and it makes me think of home. which is so far away. and now it's 2:AM and punch drunk love is on the hotel television. and that one is my favorite. for real. and it makes me think of home some more. i'm damned lucky. miss you, G! xxo