Posted by: martinworster | December 5, 2002


Battling with flu, Christmas passes, 2003 has arrived and Owen and Ed are on a mission…click on pix for bigger pix

Well I’ve been here nearly two weeks now and it seems like ages. It’s a bit of a funny place in that life here seems to exist in a vaccum – I haven’t got a Danny La Rue what’s going on in the outside world really cept the odd sniff on The main life concerns here are what’s for dinner? Is the snow good? How drunk did you get last night? Hmmmm, not sure how long I can stomach these life changing issues. So anyway, on Wed the 18th of Jan it was the opening night at Dicks Tea Bar. I expressed my worries previously about the fact that I have sort of blagged my way into this job. These worries proved to be ill founded. I played for six hours – exhausting but it went down well. The set up is a bit strange too. I’m in a little booth which is quite a way from the main dancefloor (the place holds 400 people) and it’s very isolated and there’s no crowd interaction. In fact it’s fucking lonely! There I am in my little box whilst all around me life goes on. I’m not trying to be metaphorical although you can read what you want into that last sentence.

Since then I’ve played every night although not for six hours. I’m very daunted. The other strange thing is how people get so hammered and I’m stone cold sober and subsequently find them annoying. Drunken music requests shouted in my ear (‘Bat Out of Hell’- twice! My response ‘Get The Hell OUt Before I Twat You’). The most surreal night had to be Thursday when around forty Swedes came in. ‘Do you have Roxette?’ in clipped Swedish vowels through ice white Scandy teeth was the general consensus. For this crowd I had to think on my feet so it was Abba, Britney, Chilli Peppers, No Doubt all the way thank you mamma mia. It felt like a Swedish school disco and given that the average age on the dancefloor was 17 I felt like the mutant offspring of Peter Stringfellow and Pete Waterman.

Then you get a lot of Wiggas here. White boys who like hip hop and dance like they’re black. Tarquin double-barrel-sub Ali G’s. Again musically this involves thinking on your feet with a bit of old skool. Man. Big up the Notting Hill massiv. Drum and bass is big out here so I’ll have to stock up the old cd collection via Ebay where I shall probably be sniffing after this.

Drama number one – went boarding with Susi (Northerner who I live with) and Paul (my new bud). Anyway quite early on in the day I lost them and thought nothing of it. It was a beautiful day, it was a mountain I hadn’t explored and the snow was near perfect. My fakie 360s were coming on fine thank you for asking. Anyway when I got back I found out that there’d been an accident and Susi had broken her ankle in three places (stop worrying mum). It was surreal as it could have been me. Basically they went slightly off piste and then suddenly discovered they were above a cliff with no way out

Rock and roll moment No 1 – Christmas Eve, busy night, quite drunk and then towards the end of the evening I had a girl (Charlie from Bournemouth thank you) come up to me and said if I played Michael Jackson’s ‘Billie Jean’ Bushwacka mix she’d take her top off. Naturally I obliged. She had a lacy bra on and was very cute. I’m beginning to like this job and its twin perks!

Rock and roll moment No 2. Same night, but later on after I’d finished playing. By this point I was completely hammered as I also had flu and Neurophen and alcohol don’t mix. I was in the Bar De Moulins who I also work for. At this point all I remember is being turfed out of the bar by two strapping Aussies and hauled out onto the street. I don’t no why! It was weird. Not very good PR for the DJ to be thrown out of the bar he works in but I don’t think anyone noticed and naturally I’ve kept quiet about it! Thankfully no one has said anything since. Not sure why I classify this a rock and roll moment though – more like bordering on town drunk meets vagrant via Micky Rourke in Barfly. cool.

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