She is the Greatest Diva. In Rock. Her Charisma. Is. Electrical.
The Cannanes first five songs last night encapsulated everything I’ve ever wanted from music ever since I heard Woolly Bully after school in second grade, only difference is I’m way more sophisticated these days. They rocked well and truly swell for half a set and then ended with a few numbers that were less fortunate to these ears.
And this, overheard between songs by headliner:
Guy with squinty eye in flak jacket and marvellous tie: “Apparently they made a mistake but I couldn’t hear it.”
Other Guy, feathered hair, Epson pin on his lapel: “Writing it.”
I’m reading Bret Easton Ellis’ Lunar Park, I started it last night after finishing Faulkner’s Sanctuary (“EWW” is all I can say about that one).
(NOW STOP READING IF YOU’RE SENSITIVE TO BESTIAL COERCION).
From page 23, whereby BEE has already reflected on his career book-by-book, its glamorous ascent to its grim (read: hilarious) descent into drugs and debauchery:
(PASSAGE DELETED DUE TO POTENTIAL OFFENSIVENESS)