New Years Eve is my least favourite night of the year. Past attempts to avoid it have seen me spewing my guts up alone in a cotton field, rostered on to work, playing Xbox with my brother and sleeping.
This year’s plans fell over pretty early in the piece, so I ended up taking photos at the Espy new years gig.
The place was packed and the alcohol was expensive, which is par for the course really. I’m always surprised by Melbourne crowds though – they mightn’t be as obnoxiously drunk as Brisbanites, but they’re much ruder. They also love their iPhones and Holga cameras and believe they have just as much right to the prime shooting spots as those with DSLRs. Ahem.
Anyway, the difference in the crowd composition of each room was astounding. Stonefield played in the front bar to a packed audience of leery older men, girls who looked like they’d stepped out of the pages of Frankie and dudes who were awkwardly dancing/grinding on said Frankie girls.
The band put on a solid performance, with lead vocalist Amy handing drumming duties over to a friend, freeing her up to deliver closers “Drowning” and “Through the Clover” out the front.
I fought my way through to the Gershwin Room to catch the end of Violent Soho‘s set. They were running over time as their drummer took a lengthy spew break, giving their guitarist James a chance to tell the Vegie Bar to fuck itself (the band is on a life ban from the Fitzroy restaurant) and ask the crowd for drugs.
Once their drummer had returned from what must’ve been an impressive power spew, the Brissy boys managed something rarely achieved by even the best touring bands – rousing a Melbourne crowd from their default setting of sullen hipster.
I’ve never been so happy to be covered in beer and fallen on by sweaty boys joyously bellowing “FUUUUUCCCKKK YEEAAAHHH!!” and “ONYA SOHO!”
I also saw River of Snakes, Paul Dempsey, Jebediah and Loon Lake play, but their crowds were generally well-behaved.