Still Buzzing And Wired Up, Hyperactive As Kids On Kiora
Avenida De Los Astilleros, Cadiz, Andalucia, Espana
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Still Buzzing And Wired Up, Hyperactive As Kids On Kiora
Sunday 22nd of February 2009
Avenida De Los Astilleros, Cadiz, Andalucia, Espana: 7:00
The guitar bag's in a serious bad way, coming apart at the seams, one strap snapped off. Probably too merry to pedal, and the plazas and streets are full of broken glass, but this kills it off. So I'm pushing the Muddy Fox all the way, ARIA propped between the seat and the handlebars. Takes an hour to do the kilometre home. Crowds like Glastonbury before the big fence went up in 2001, claustrophobic and frustrating. Stuck, unable to move an inch, with everyone bumping up against us. Get back around six, but the crowd keeps shouting past, only dying down a little at eight. Dozens of people grab and tug on the Muddy Fox, hoping for a quick ride home. Dozens bang on the side panels out of sheer lunacy, and hundreds bump and slide along the side panels in a vague attempt to walk in a straight line. The costumes still look fantastic, more ragged now, but everyone's still buzzing and wired up, hyperactive as kids on Kiora. Professionally I need sleep, and it's impossible, first too noisy, now too hot, and passing cars and trucks keep shaking me awake in my big red bed. My finger ends are in serious pain, my voice is croaked out, and I'm just utterly exhausted by playing six to seven hours at full intensity. Gotta sleep somehow, even if it takes til it's dark.
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