It would be true to say that last night, The Schla La Las Christmas Party, was amongst the most eventful gigs of our rock career. Almost everything that could possibly go wrong did. With jingle bells on.
Sound check was due to start at 5:30pm. Sound checks notoriously run late, musicians being unstructured beings, but as timely girls we were there on the dot. The venue soundman, alas, was not. The Open Mouths kindly turned up with their amp loan at 6pm. Still no sign of the soundman. The adorable Animal Maths showed with their amp-loan at 6:15pm. Still no sign of the soundman, nor, while we're on the subject, of the PA. Oxen of the Sun, the FIRST ACT ON bowled up at 6:30pm. My feelings towards the still non-existent soundman have now taken a distinctly non-Christmassy bent.
6:35pm, 55 minutes before the doors are due to open, the soundman shows. He appears to be in a slight mood with us, has only a tenuous grip on the English language, and isn't sure about the workings of the sound desk.
But we've played with worse.
Although the sound onstage is pretty awful, which is worrying in a sound check. And we haven't time to sort it out as there are three other bands to check.
BUT, on with the show!
A DJ turns up. We haven't asked for a DJ, although we had asked for decks, having super-star DJ chums. It transpires that the DJ owns the decks and is providing them on the proviso he plays. Which is fair enough, he was a lovely chap and I'm sure would have negotiated, until I notice that his decks are CD. Psapp, who are making merry in another room have brought only vinyl.
It's around this time that I take up smoking again.
After some guest-list kerfuffle which would be tedious to explain but was stressful to sort, finally, 45minutes later than advertised, the doors open. According to my calculations Oxen of the Sun should have gone on at 8 to get all the bands done by the venues 11pm music curfew. The sound man reckons the curfew is midnight and has told the bands stage times based on this. I am unsure, but bow to his superior knowledge.
So Oxen of the Sun comes on. His stuff is beautiful and we sit, entranced, pleased that the stress is behind us and the night has begun.
But not quite behind us, because there is more guest-list trauma, and I have to sweet talk the door chap and stretch his already tested patience further with my Schla charms. Whilst pleaded our case, four jolly Santas amble by on their way to the stage. It's Animal Maths! This is their penultimate gig as the amazing Dave Taylor is emigrating to New Zealand on 29th December. He will be sadly missed, so I'm pleased that his band could play our party. And they're great: short, sharp energetic songs of just the grot and roll type I love the best. Played by Santa! Could it get any better? Well, maybe if Dan leaps atop the monitor in a fit of rock exuberance! But not, NOT, if the monitor slips from under him and he sky dives onto the stage. But he's alright, yes 'course he is, he finishes the song.
Except.
Except.
OhGod he's not alright, the bone in his arm is sticking out through his skin.
When it becomes clear he's not going to move for a while the DJ slips another Oasis record on. 50 minutes later the ambulance arrives and he's stretchered away, still in his Santa outfit. Although thankfully someone had removed his beard before the paramedics arrived.
It's now 10:40 and we have two bands to go. At this moment the landlady chooses to remind us that the curfew is 11pm. The Open Mouths play 3 songs and they are brilliant. Then the Schlas rush the stage and try to remember how to tune up whilst Psapp come to the stage and talk us through the records they would have played if they had decks. Which was jolly good of them.
Then the Schlas play and are BRILLIANT and everyone goes home happy.
Well, kinda.
I have drunk a bottle of wine to myself while waiting for the ambulance and running around. On an empty stomach. Whilst the adrenaline was pumping, the effects hadn't kicked in, hence knocking it back to stop my hands shaking, but now we're actually on stage I am having difficulty remembering which way up my bass goes, let alone our songs. I have a distinct impression of forgetting the words to one of the songs THAT I WROTE and no more. Which is undoubtedly for the best.
Thank you very much to everybody who tried to help us out last night, also Oxen of the Sun for being amazing, Animal Maths for being ace, The Open Mouths for retaining their sense of humour in a crisis, and Psapp for being jolly good sports.
Get well soon Dan!
And a very Merry Christmas to you all.
Remember kids: drunkenness is neither amusing nor mannerly. Especially on stage.
George (mine's a Snowball) Schla x