Gay Paris' Tour Diary One: A Whole Load Of Ke$ha

Saturday 3 November  – Transit Bar, Canberra ACT

Greetings, gentle reader!

Know that this tale is not for the meek nor those lacking in moral turpitude – as this story unfolds, Gay Paris shall be shaking the ontological and temporal foundations of reality. The party will not stop.

Of course, when you're attempting to change the very nature of existence with bad arse rock'n'roll music, you're going to run afoul of all manner of obstacles. I'm looking at you, God. Upon arriving at our gear-stronghold (aka Zen 2), we realised that through the machinations of some fiendish kobold or other spook, we were bereft of keys, thus lacked a means of acquiring the tools of our mighty endeavours. Summoning the ever powerful Al, in a shower of sparks and molten steel, we smote with great vengeance and furious fire the obstacle, loaded Six Guns' pimp-mobile and drove South at high speed.

Canberra, as the nation's capital seems to exist beyond the regulations of the rest of the country. I was amazed to be able to buy yoghurt and cheap wine from a single store. Running back with the great news to the venue, I expected a better reaction from my fellows, yet on arrival, I found them arguing about a suspicious white powder arrayed in lines on a table – some dear heart had presented it to Slim. Needless to say, we sent it to our lab people to have analysed.

As for the gig itself, I can only congratulate all members of the band for their high calibre of musicianship, sex appeal and general good health. Later that evening, Slim felt it his duty to defend the good name of Tex Perkins when a lady of great maleficence offered ill words against him and for that, I'm sure that Mr Perkins will be eternally grateful (when he gains knowledge of this defence).

Wednesday 7 November  – The Cambridge, Newcastle NSW

As a man of great learning, it pleased me to know that this was a 'uni-night' in Newcastle and as I demanded our rider (and was refused), I was looking forward to rubbing shoulders with my scholarly peers. Some hours later, screaming at Blacktooth about Obama's America and how it is just about as good as the new record by The Sword, I realised that no-one was really interested in anything but getting black-out-liquored-up and trying to score some action.

Once again, we acted as impeccable and exemplary figures of righteous entertainment, winning the crowd over with all manner of musicianship and stage-craft and endearing ourselves to the local women, who proceeded to show us about their quaint little city – it would seem that Newcastle's idea of scholarship, art and decadence are all expressed through the act of drinking and hugging. I would like to congratulate Newcastle on behalf of the band for this boundary pushing paradigm of excess. Bravo.

Thursday 8 November  – The Steyne, Manly NSW

After being denied a rider in Newcastle, nursing a hangover that Old Louie himself would have trouble countenancing, it was with great joy that we received more booze than we could handle upon arriving in Manly. Our tour-mates, The Peep Tempel (whom I must mention are what the rap dudes refer to as 'the shit') soothed our frayed bodies with raucous post-punk rock before we were called upon to display the gifts that we have taken from the mighty demiurges to use as our own.

Leaving the stage, covered in more booze and sweat than clothing, it was lucky that the local ladies once again came to our rescue, draping themselves over our super famous bodies as we made firm friends with the security personal (who promptly resupplied us with delicious beverages).

From the staff (gorgeous women of numinous quality) to the fans, our interaction with the public had been wonderful and was only tarnished by some over-eager police officers that were likely jealous of our status as 'hood-famous'.

Friday 9 November – The Sando, Newtown NSW

The best thing about playing around the corner from my humble lean-to dwelling is knowing that I can run home after soundcheck to slip into my special trousers and sing Tina Turner songs to my Pomeranian before our set. This was not to be however, as local super-group Blackbird were opening for us (I will ever think of them as Spank Cauldron) and as a respected member of the musical community I knew that it was my duty to observe and judge their actions. As I watched the first two bands (the other being the increasingly amazing Tempel dudes), I noticed that our hometown audience had an erotic charge. They new what was coming.

Intoxicated with power, free drinks and the overpowering sexuality of our fanbase, we managed to perform in a sense that was truly epic in every sense of the word. Ask someone who was there if you don't believe me. Feeling smug and full of desire, we deserted the stage only to be told by management.

“Get back out there, pals, pop-icon Ke$ha is here and she has beseeched that an encore be performed!”

“What, she flew all the way over to Australia just to see us play,” I asked, donning my majestic encore cape.

“Probably” laughed Slim, dancing his special dance.

Later that night, as we drank beer that we had to pay for at the Townie, Ke$ha wearing Blacktooth's special Hawaiian party shirt and nuzzling his beard, I had to remind myself that I am but a man (for now) and that as erotically gratifying as our shows are, we are not yet ready to challenge the strength of the Great Old Ones.

Saturday 10 November – The Patch, Wollongong NSW

Wollongong has long been known to Gay Paris as a place where normative moral conditioning is largely absent, so we rejoiced as we once again sped South. Upon arrival, we found that The Peep Temple had already arrived and were valiantly rekindling the party fire that we had all so keenly stoked not but twelve hours before.

Even considering the youth and innocence of opening act, Rocking Horse and The Baby Dolls, there was much pleasure to be gained from their soulful, sexy blues. Although this gig was criminally unattended by the normally thrust-worthy locals, both supports gave me much to drink on. Although the crowd was small, their enthusiasm for our bravery, wisdom and power was humbling – to consider that all I have to do is ask, and women will pop their tops is a wondrous thing and I am not sure as of yet whether or not I will abuse in a manner most scandalous my newfound power.

I guess we will find out on the Western Australian leg of this tour wherein we team up with our super famous pals, The Beards and The Snowdroppers.

Until next time, gentle reader, this has been your humble author and narrator,

WH Monks.