Acoustic Juice and Other Problems with the Music Industry

Having finished my demanding bar and waiting (note: thought I'd include a link as a homage to LeBlogMac) course, I applied and instantly scored a job at the Adelaide Convention Centre. There seems to be some deal between the two organisations. I assume the bar and waiting fee of 750 odd dollars is a clear enough indication that you have no concept of the value of the Australian dollar and therefore are a valuable slave, gimp and employee (all these elements are required for the job). In all honesty the job pays reasonably well, but the shifts cut seriously into my drinking times, which is something that just won't do long term. Not to worry too much, my outstanding and obvious inadequacy will soon ensure that I have plenty of free time on my hands once one of the 'black coats' realises this.

Black coats. That reminds me. There's a bizarre segregation vibe that the place gives off too, with each type of employee wearing their specific uniform. Depressingly, it reminds me of 'A brave new world'. If memory serves, I think the name of my position is 'epsilon', which is a stupid, chimp-like, grunt work type. That's me; an epsilon. (If I was LeBlogMac I'd include an irrelevant link here. If I was Niczilla, something about my lefty righteousness, my liberal guilt, third world debt or getting f-ed in the A in guantanamo. But i'm not either. It's just gonna be a different sort of post.) ~LeBlogMac edit: irrelevant link~

anyway I digress......

Tonight we had one of Adelaide's largest functions (so they said) 'Santa's Workshop' (They made me wear a Santa cap. I still feel dirty). The annoying din of a female B-grade radio host wailed through the first hour or so of the function after which followed a couple of bands, the second of which was Acoustic Juice. Introduced as 'one of Australia's best corporate bands and Adelaide's very own: Acoustic Juice'. I winced in pain as I passed by my tables when they made this announcement. Middle aged, long balding hair, playing the very best hits of six months ago to two years ago, they were just about every fucking cliché of an aging rock band conceivable. Not that the crowd seemed to mind (it was open bar after all) with a hundred or so on shaking their stuff (badly) on the dance floor and posing for the cameras. I thought I was stuck in the radio with the dial stuck on SAFM. Bad cover after bad cover. Initially cheap and disposable pop tracks were only further bastardised by the band one three minute piece of shit after the next.

Ah, that's about all I can be bothered with. I have to go through all this again tomorrow. There's your damn post, Leblogmac. Fuck, I hate public opinion. You all make me sick.