What a sing song dance

I took a step back in time on Friday night and went to a gig at Selina’s in the Coogee Bay Hotel.

Selina’s was THE place to see live music in my youth.

All these decades later the pub is still going off like a frog in a sock. It’s estimated to be worth more than $200 million these days and we were a bit overwhelmed by how huge and insanely busy it was.

We went with a gang of friends and fought for a pre-gig table in the sports bar, which was marginally quieter than the crazy beer garden. We got ourselves a few pizzas ahead of seeing a triple-header: The Models, Boom Crash Opera and James Reyne.

Tactical error. When we walked into Selina’s at 8pm we’d already missed The Models. Noooo!

The venue was at capacity and it was swelteringly hot. I rocked out to the next band, Boom Crash Opera, but by the time James Reyne came on stage and started warbling Hoochie Gucci Fiorucci Mama I was started to flag.

I still loved the gig, but I felt a bit sick from the heat. So did a middle-aged bloke who fainted during my favourite song, Boys Light Up.

Poor man, I felt so sorry for him when the security guards swarmed into the crowd to extract him. (I also selfishly wished he’d stayed upright for a few minutes longer.)

Boys Light Up is such a great song and it blows me away that James Reyne wrote it when he was in his early 20s. It was considered a bit naughty at the time and was even briefly banned from radio.

I will never forget the moment I first heard the song on 2HD in the early 80s. I was cycling on my Nan’s exercise bike in her garage and my mouth dropped when James sang these words and I realised what they meant …

Silently she opens the drawer
Mother’s little helper is coming out for more
Strategically positioned before the midday show
Her back is arched, those lips are parched
Repeated blow by blow

Heavens!

James didn’t finish his encore until 11.30pm, so it was 1am when we got to bed. I was shattered for the rest of the weekend. Damn you, middle age.

I wearily drove to the hairdresser on Saturday afternoon to get my roots done, then had an early night.

DD, on the other hand, was up at 6.45am to go cycling with his mates, then backed up to see The Angels on Saturday night.

I don’t know how he did it.

Sunday was another blur of exhaustion for me, which concluded with my nephew’s long-held tradition of having a teppanyaki birthday dinner.

My kids couldn’t make it due to having tickets to Coldplay, but we gathered for a pre-dinner catch up.

Then we went our separate ways and headed to the restaurant to have food thrown at us. The birthday boy sat between his two grandmothers, which was pretty special.