Whatever Gets Me Out Of Here
Nepeta Afterlife isn't a heavy metal band and this show isn't that heavy.
But count me in, anyway.
Not for inclusion — bag thirds or lager rounds or round trips afar — but in the true literal sense: 1,2 and 3. Mic checks for checking nerves. Confirmed, the equipment works and I'm in well over my head.
Or are we? Afterall, we've rehearsed (four times) in the garage of Relatives place — not Putney, maybe Gladesville, but definitely not Hunters Hill, maybe somewhere on that slither of Sydney though; away from scenes and, more geographically, where the borders aren't defined by clear roads like they are here (they need a Parramatta Road, maybe they've got one, who knows?) and now we've booked a show, somehow.
On first, playing fourth fiddle to the fancy burgers and footy matches on flat screens and fucking tasting paddles of craft beer.
Ready though, regardless.
But then again, no? Four rehearsals since 2015 probably isn't enough. And three songs is definitely not enough.
You should go and see Cat Heaven play at the Union on Saturday (April 8th) with Mere Women and Greenwave Beth. It's free and if I didn't love football too much I'd definitely be there too.