Rocktober Day Twenty Three: You Are My Sister

Right now I'm thinking about my sister who is due back from New York on Monday (this long long long distance romance stuff is hard work). Which made me think of this song and made me realise that it is terribly remiss of me to leave poor Antony and The Johnsons until day twenty three when they are so very important to me.

As you probably know I found Antony at the Came So Far For Beauty concert at the Sydney Opera House in January 2005. It was a tribute concert for Leonard Cohen songs and there was an assortment of musicians performing. Some I knew, many I didn't.

Antony lumbered onto the stage, a huge man, all long black hair and stretched out old jumper; looking like someone's oversized four year old brother. Not for a moment did I expect the voice of a fallen angel to emerge from that shape.

When I left the concert hall that night I was in shock. I needed to find out about Antony Hegarty immediately if not sooner. When I couldn't get into his booked out solo show at a small nightclub in Newtown a few days later I literally sat in my car and sobbed.

A few weeks later I received his I Am A Bird Now CD (import, not available in Australia) and I could not get enough. For a while it was on constant rotation in the car. Now I don't listen that often; the feelings his voice brings out in me are too painful. Avoidance and denial, try them, you'll like them.

Anyway, this song is too beautiful for anyone who has a sister (or any sibling or really a wonderful friend) who has been there for them. For a giant homosexual, androgynous boy growing up must have been tough in New York City and I imagine these words for his sister are a tribute to the love and support she showed him through the difficult years.

The addition of Boy George's beautiful backing vocals are an extra treat.

You Are My Sister (Antony and the Johnsons live on Letterman)

You are my sister, we were born
So innocent, so full of need
There were times we were friends but times I was so cruel
Each night I'd ask for you to watch me as I sleep
I was so afraid of the night
You seemed to move through the places that I feared
You lived inside my world so softly
Protected only by the kindness of your nature

You are my sister
And I love you
May all of your dreams come true

We felt so differently then
So similar over the years
The way we laugh the way we experience pain
So many memories
But theres nothing left to gain from remembering
Faces and worlds that no one else will ever know

You are my sister
And I love you
May all of your dreams come true
I want this for you
They're gonna come true (gonna come true)

That's entertainment

Sunday night I went to the Opera House to see Antony and The Johnsons. I went with my sister J and my long suffering hubby Big Jay. I have to say Big Jay was there by accident; he was feeling guilty for having let me go to so many concerts on my own and when I suggested this one he said "yes" because he thought there were no other takers. When he found out my sister was coming he was a little annoyed. He's more of an AC/DC sort of guy and if you put Antony and ACCADACCA on a spectrum they'd be about as far apart as Earth and Pluto (which will always be a planet as far as I am concerned).

It is worth casting our mind back to the last time we saw Antony at the State Theatre when the support "act" (and I use the term loosely was Coco Rosie). You can re-live this special experience here. Well this time around Antony out did himself. These people made Coco Rosie look like entertainers of the millenium.

How do I describe it? A geeky guy comes on stage and starts fiddling with his Mac laptop. Eerie, horror movie soundtrack-type music fills the concert hall. The lights dim and we all anticipate Antony's arrival. In vain. A shape becomes obvious to one side of the stage. A strange shape. As the light brightens somewhat the shape is exposed as a woman dressed in an old sheer lace curtain with an ugly metal pointy mask on her head. She stalks across the stage, slowly, very slowly. She is wearing odd, high heeled shoe things. She stalks as the music plays. There is anticipation that something interesting may happen. It doesn't. She arrives at the other side of the stage (so far the trip has taken about 15 minutes). She strips off the curtain to reveal a metallic bondagy type outfit. She takes off the mask. She stalks to the centre of the stage where she proceeds to move her arms and legs in a random manner. Another 15 minutes pass. She stalks off stage and relief floods the audience. In vain. Shortly she is back. She is now dressed in what appears to be an old insect screen. She stalks up and down the stage some more. She takes off insect screen. She postures in the middle of the stage. She leaves.

Fuck me! I giggled hysterically throughout. WHAT. THE. FUCK. WAS. THAT???!!! Seriously!

I know courses for horses, entertainment wise, but really. Do the Arts Councils give any old fuckwit a grant to develop their "art"? It was ridiculous, stupid, horrible and downright pathetic.

Attempting to wipe this comedy/horror show from my mind I settled in for the wonderful Antony. He was performing with a 41 piece orchestra and I was excited to see how this would work.

Well, I have to say it didn't work so well. Yes, Antony still has the magical, not of this world voice which blows my mind. But overall the show was strange and disjointed. For a start there was no sign of The Johnsons. While the orchestra played beautifully somehow it was too "pretty" and not edgy enough for me. It was missing "something" I couldn't put my finger on, if I compared it to his last solo show in 2006 or his appearance on back up vocals for Lou Reed in 2007; both of which were perfection.

He did the amazing I fell in love with a dead boy which is a song I simply love to death (pardon the pun). But he didn't do You are my sister or Fistful of love which are my two favourite songs. The songs off the new album all blend in together for me and don't really hit the spot. Not like I am a bird now which is an album I adore.

Anyway, to top off a weird and slightly annoying evening dear space cadet Antony went off on a meandering discussion about hating my husband's employer [evil evil evil ] Rupert Murdoch (or Rupey as I like to call him) and followed that up with some blather about climate change and how his hotel Quay Grand would soon be under water. [Well better sleep with a fucking life jacket on, just in case, you moron. - Believe me it pains me greatly to call Antony a moron, but I call it as I see it.]

No rest for the wicked

Just in case December wasn't trying to kill me I've already started to make sure that January and February will finish me off.

The ticket drawer already contains:

1) Tickets for David Sedaris.

2) Tickets for Antony and The Johnsons (with a friggin' symphony orchestra at the Sydney Opera House - heaven!)

3) Tickets for AC/DC at The Stadium.

On Friday I'll be trying to buy tickets for George Michael at the Football Stadium, also for February.

Somewhere in there we also have a weekend away planned.

Like Bon Jovi I'll sleep when I'm dead.