Bluesday Tuesday

There was no two ways about it, $12.50 steak-night, six independent artists and two of the greatest blog writers of the millenium meant that The Espy was off the hook!

The stage was set, literally and metaphorically, as the slurring Espy host promised a 'more acoustic than not' evening.

In a veritable convention of bloggers, the amount of camera flashes suggested nothing short of a strobe party as Nicolette in her skin leopard suit, which took away from the spectacle, bashed out some crowd friendly hits with the assistance of 9 year-old percussionist, Jason, who banged on the bongos, inspired by a camping trip. Bizarre.

Lecia took the stage then returned it so she could perform on it. She had many strings to her bow, in fact her guitar, as she sublimely struck her way through chord after chord with her uppity rock-pop-Missy-Higgins infused numbers. She could beatbox, she could sing, she could play; she was the highlight of our Bluesday and the source of many an Espy erection.

Lecia on YouTube

C.O.B.

It was a full moon, it was the equinox, it was just the vibe of it, as C.O.B. roared to life on the stage, never revealing the full words of the acryonym: Care of Business, Cock of Balls and Carry on Bruce were popular suggestions. These old rockers didn't disappoint as their Hoodoo Guru-infused inoffensive rock didn't miss a beat, literally or metaphorically. The guitarist was fast on his instrument; the bassist competent. Very cleverly, they managed to write a feel-good tune about a man being threatened on the Geelong train and this turned out to be their closing number and literally and metaphorically left on a good note. One punter described the act as 'Dylan-esque' before semi retracting that statement saying, 'Oh, it was just one of the words'.

Michael Gambino was certainly 'more acoustic than not' and he was even quieter when he broke his G string. A replacement 'a-coolstic' guitar was summoned and he continued to meander through some XR, JJ and BH-infused ditties about his travels. His songs were as evocative as shit and two well-dressed bloggers at the event described him, very cleverly as vo-cool!

This was to be a great end to the night until City of Cool hit the Jimmy Page with amazing unthoughtful rendition of swearword-laced tracks that promptly cleaned out the Espy of human beings.

City of Cool (COC)

The night was incred.

4 woos out of 5.

JC