- Tycho Brahe & Dead Inside The Chrysalis - Friday 10th June @ Cabaret Nocturne
- Tycho Brahe & Real Life - Saturday 11th June @ Dream Nightclub.
On their way...again
Early May, Tycho was invited back to play at Dream Nightclub for two nights in Melbourne. Ken expected someone to say “No”...no-one did, and so now we had to arrange flights for 6 people...Yeah! What fun! Did you know airfares can go up by $70.00 while you are booking them?
Anyhow, with four weeks of preparation it was back to the metropolis of Melbourne.
Wednesday 8 June, Ken and George were packing 120kg of the Tycho gear until 2.00am. Meanwhile, the rest of the band slept soundly.
Thursday 9 June, following our previous near-glove experience with airport security, Ken dressed less suspiciously and we arrived at the airport with 1½ hours to spare.
With 4 trolley loads and 150 kg of gear, the Virgin Blue lady swore when she saw us coming, (then apologised) and Andy had to leave his backup keyboard behind...poor Mum had to lug it home.
This time our would-be terrorist was not a band member, but Francis's better half Patrina who attempted to take a flick knife /um...nail file through the security check.
This brief delay didn't matter as yet again our flight was delayed, but only by 45 minutes this time.
Time enough for drinks in the airport lounge, more air disaster stories, and Francis's recollection of a recent “Dream of Dying”...a dream about a spider biting him on the knob (or something)?
Our laughter and carry-on apparently attracted a very drunk girl, who decided to sit with us as we, quote, “looked like fun people”. She loudly repeated several times, how a security guard had called her a “bloody idiot” when he threw her out of the Treasury Casino for the third time, to which she replied: “Who calls anyone a bloody idiot anymore, you bloody idiot!” So for the next three days, “bloody idiot” became the favourite catch phrase for Tycho and nearly the name of the tour.
Anyhow, the flight saw Francis and Patrina doing the “cultured” wine and cheese night, while Ken, George and Andy did the more Tychster-like thing and shared “Allen's Party Mix Lollies”, read “Fiend Magazine” and laughed at “bloody idiot girl”dancing in her seat all the way to Melbourne (until around midnight, much to the delight of nearby passengers).
We arrived in Melbourne at 12.30am, got the gear (which was upright this time and handed to us by the friendly and professional Virgin baggage handlers) packed into a Tarago and were to our hotel by 2.00am. No near detours to Geelong this time.
However, due to silly noises and hysterical giggling, some of us didn't get to sleep straight away!
We had breakfast at Bridge Road, then George played clothes horse for Andy, (looking for a present for his missus) then we foolishly parked in the CBD...$32 for 2 hours - ouch!!
At sound check ,we discovered the interesting vending machine at Dream nightclub...lots of glowing rods, handcuffs and battery operated things. “What the...?!!!..”
Andy - “Careful Ken, that's a nasty looking dildo.... you don't need another one. Save the money for beer.”
Ken - “Mmmmmm.”
Following 2 minute showers, we rushed off to pick up our sound man Pat Z, who flew in that night, so dinner at Lygon Street turned into the Makka's airport drive through.
On the way to the airport, it was “pissing down rain” which made visibility crap, and Ken nearly had a wipeout on the freeway...“F**k, where'd the lane go?”. Ken, George and Andy still managed to practice harmonies for “Don't Feel That Way” (DFTW) -acapella style, in the car though.
The gig itself saw us play with Sydney band “Dead Inside The Chrysalis”, who were basically Devo meets Marilyn Manson, and they were “Not from Sydney we're from the Internet ”. Needless to say they were very entertaining and nice guys too (“Highly recommended, two thumbs up!”- Ken).
Our set saw the debut of Andy's song DFTW, while he lost his Tycho oral virginity - singing Tycho backing vocals for the first time. It went well so our car rehearsal paid off.
Post gig we discovered the joys of beers and shooters, and then had a drunken walk to Lygon St for pizza at 3.00am. George and Pat Z in their inebriated state, didn't heed Ken's warnings that the pizza was too hot, and discovered the next day that they had in fact burnt their mouths.
Later we left in 2 cabs, but one took 20 minutes longer to get back to the hotel, after the cab driver got lost!
At some point, Pat revealed he had found a glow stick at the club, which he'd shoved down his underpants or rather “trunksters”....
Pat - “Trunksters.......they're so comfortable, you have to try them Ken...you'll never go back!”
Ken – “Mmmmmm”
The glowstick got thrown around the hotel room until the wee hours of the morning and ended up in Ken's bed.
Andy failed to mention to Pat that he saw where the initial stick had originated (ie a goth's trunksters). Anyway....
Saw the now traditional breakfast, or rather lunch, at Greasy Joe's St Kilda. (“Also highly recommended, two thumbs up!”- Ken). Andy around this time, probably due to poor sleep or something else... had developed “Something About Mary hair”, so he decided to conceal it under a black beanie.
Later we went on to Chapel Street for some serious shopping, the Francis & Patrina disappearing act and the dog wearing shoes.
Back at the hotel, after a wee kip (or a bath / massage / spa for Francis & Patrina), 2 minute noodles were had for a snack. This is when George had a blond moment and forgot to remove the flavour sachet before adding boiling water.
George – “What are these plastic sachets floating in my noodles??? That's weird.”
Ken “Mmmmmm – Hang on I think that's the flavour pack and vege mix George.”
This is also the time, we realised that if most of us share a room, air freshener is mandatory on tour...Norsca Spray-on deodorant just doesn't cut it!
By now we knew the route to Dream Nightclub. At the sound check Brian the club owner was asked to “show George his lizard”. This turned out to be a 10cm teflon implant in the shape of a tribal symbol, (rather like a lizard) under the skin of his forearm, which nicely complimented the titanium plate implanted in his head, into which were screwed metal spikes (see photo). He also showed us the tattoo of an upside-down naked lady hanging from a ring through her thing on his back, which coincidently graced the wall of the club (see photo for reference – NB not suitable for workplace viewing).
During the sound check, George Pappas gave us his remix of “Avarice” which we listened to in the Tarago, and nearly pissed our pants with glee! (It is VERY good....“Highly recommended, two thumbs up!”- Ken). The gig itself went mostly well, except for Ken's distortion pedal dying. During “Enemy” George thought Ken was tapping his foot enthusiastically to the beat, but he was actually kicking the shit out of his f**ked distortion pedal.
Ken “F**K! F**K! F**K! F**K! F**K! F**K!”
Francis “Hoots ..... Why is Ken duncing so weeeerd??”
Ken finally managed to revive the pedal enough for us to successfully get through DFTW, which went down well anyhow. Who'd have thought the smallest, most basic and robust piece of gear would be the weakest link in a gear list of electronics weighing in at 150 kgs...go figure.
We once again retired to the bar for beers and shooters, this time with Real Life. The two Pats and Francis piked at 3:30am. Patrina and Francis had “something better to do with their time”.
Ken, George and Andy got to bed at 6am and were up at 8:30am... “soldier on!”.
The hotel kindly let us check out late and leave our gear in the hotel all day. Breakfast was had at Bridge Road again, this is where Ken discovered a pancake so hard that he cut his mouth with it.- “What the.....?” (“NOT highly recommended, two thumbs down!”- Ken). Andy also convinced Francis that a milkshake was the only truly effective cure for his queasiness/hangover....and it was.
We then spent five hours shopping, playing “hide and seek” and “phone tag” with Francis and Patrina at Southgate and the city. We saw the reason that rats shouldn't smoke, and the amazing graffiti alley (above), a weird guy in the mall yelling “Eminem is the conspiracy man!” (see Andy's photographic reinterpretation), and played security for the girls in a Dangerfield shop, who were creeped out by a junkie hanging around. We were also privy to an impromptu acoustic piano performance of “White Room” in Allan's Music courtesy of Andy.
Once again we had pizza at Lygon Street, this time a tired and cranky Pat (remember who burnt his mouth on pizza) claimed “I don't even like pizza! I HATE pizza! I NEVER eat pizza!” and consequently refused to eat.
6pm back at the hotel, we packed up the Tarago, and then Andy decided that Francis and Patrina needn't get a taxi, we'd play “Tarago Sardines” instead.
Andy - “Don't worry, we'll fit!. What do you think Francis, can you get in there?”
Francis - “Shouldn't be a problem”.
Tarago Sardines - the game where you just manage to get the third seat into a seated position, so Francis can slide in sideways and barely breathe. Then the others in the second seat have their knees crammed up against the front seat so hard they go numb. Hence the Tarago was “fully loaded”, and we laughed most of the way to the airport while checking everyone was still breathing. When we piled out of the van at the rental car park, the Hertz guy thought it was empty and got a shock when Francis popped his head out - “Oh, there's another one!”
It was when we were driving into the car park that Andy, our only other authorized driver, finally offered to drive – “the bloody coward”!
This time we had five and then six trolleys (the Melbourne Airport has small lifts) and 168kg of gear, and no “Bloody Idiot Girl”. We got safely back to Brisbane – early! With gear intact, many thanks to Virgin Blue.
Of course, to the “Bloody Idiot Girl”.....we know where you work; Real Life and Tim Crook for their support; Brian for the tattoo and implant tour; George Pappas for the kickarse remix; Gavin Dwyer for coming from Sydney; Tony Irvine for sharing shooters; Andy's missus for forgiving him for forgetting to phone; Ken's folks for looking after the spawn; Pat for the 2 minute noodles and for sharing the joy of trunksters; Andy for the muesli bars and the Norsca Spray-on deodorant. No thanks to the door goth, who repeatedly hassled us for a cover charge as we returned to the club after loading the van, despite the fact that we'd just played -
Door Goth – “Excuse me, there is a cover charge tonight. 15 bucks please.”
Friendly Tycho members - “We're THE BAND!”
Door Goth - “Huh?”
Refers to the Tarago Sardines game, our drunken state (most of the time), and the joys of a band sharing a room with one toilet.....no more to be said! “What goes on tour stays on tour!”