Having previously almost shat myself at the last My Heads/DAM pub quiz, my reputation was in tatters. After contracting a deadly stomach bug, doctors had said I was unlikely to make it. I nonetheless co-hosted the quiz, against all recommendations. It was unlikely that I would make it through the night. Without question, I was acting as a man of honour, however this in no way stopped people from questioning regardless.
On that dreaded night I was less active than usual due to the cramps. I abruptly ended many phone calls from my doctor, begging me not to go on stage. While the journey was arduous, I did not shit myself that night. I carried on and in the end found myself in an Uber home, fidgeting to distract myself from the eruption inside my body. It was, in fact, the day after the quiz that I shat myself.
Let this be a cautionary tale to all. Though I did not pass on as many doctors expected, I was lucky. The message of the tale is this: The show must go on.
The show must go on. A famous quote that nobody knows the origins of, but many suspect began with the classic 1980s song by ‘The Dave Matthews Band’. It is the quote that this show, and all other shows, in fairness, will come to be remembered by. For the show did go on.
It started with Slow Knife. Last time Slow Knife played in Quarry it was insisted upon by certain members of the crowd that they came across as Doctor Who villains. This time there are four of them. The droning, hypnotic tribal dance that they conjure up is no less safe than last time, and once again the audience were left in awe as they stumbled through the crowd, shaking hands with everyone and chanting black magic. It is a rally cry for the evening.
Second on the bill were European Taxis. I keep accidentally calling this band Fire Engines, which I’m pretty sure were a random cult lo-fi act from the nineties. That is not this band. I also accidentally called them ‘The Ambulances’ at one point. Strange to continually stumble on the name of a band just because of the mention of a mode of transport.
The show went on for them as well. The noisy slacker rock on offer was a fitting reprise after the enchanting, oppressive atmosphere of Slow Knife. I’ve seen the frontman’s solo stuff before, which bears a striking resemblance to this, except this is bigger. Pointless thing to add actually as obviously it’s bigger because there’s more people, but nonetheless, it was great, and the show must go on.
And finally, the show ended with Islet. The show must go on. Islet arrived wading through the crowd with those things, those bits of metal, that you ding and they vibrate your ears, making them feel all weird. I love those things and really ought to get one for myself. Then they went on stage and played rock music.
Absolutely the highlight for me, which is saying a lot based on my enjoyment so far. The world that you were transported to made an hour feel like 10 minutes. It’s catchy but uncanny, it doesn’t quite fit with what you expect, and at every corner there’s some sort of twist. They’re also one of the best bands I’ve seen live this year.
And with that, the show went on. Funny how it can all go so fast. One day, we’ll all be dead in the ground. That was nearly me at the start of this story, and look at me now. I got to enjoy three bands live. The show must go on.
If you know of any reason the show shouldn’t go on, please, tell Aidan Shard on the bar. If you come up with a good enough reason, he’ll unravel his tongue and it will continue to unravel like an old scroll over the bar, out onto the street, and into a pile of cigarette dimps.
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