(of the fact)
(that I need love)
My friend Rowena and I caught the train up to Katoomba on Sunday afternoon. We arrived to dry heat and the humming of cicadas at high altitude, and immediately found a nice shady, spot in the garden where we could sit on the grass and drink gin and tonics.
Which was perfect… the cicadas, the moments that you spend with women which lead you to realise that you could have/should have been childhood friends, all of it…
Because the rest of the evening was spent with Neko Case.
Neko and her band played a very small intimate show at the Clarendon Hotel in Katoomba on Sunday night. And we were seated right at the front of the room, only about a meter from the stage. It was so wonderful being able to watch Jon Rauhouse on the banjo and lap steel up close, and he told a hilarious story about being mistaken for a miner by a 14 year old boy on the plane over. The banter between the band members was just lovely, as always. They know how to make a crowd feel at home, even if they themselves are jet lagged or jittery.
I was just generally enchanted and exhausted and brilliantly happy. The whole evening was wonderful. Even the opening act, Jordie Lane, was a revelation.
Listening to music that I love so dearly live always leaves me a little emotionally raw. So I am a little ragged around the edges today… but am going for another dose tonight at the Recital Hall nonetheless.
I am holding out for Star Witness.