Page 83 - ION Indie Magazine SeptOct 2023

(con’t) Eventually, the owner happened to
come downstairs and asked us to stop
playing while she berated the nude
clientele. Bizarrely, none of them left, they
just begrudgingly found their pants and

got a pint. In the meantime, a drunk lady
had found her way in, and demanded she
do karaoke, and the sound engineer
randomly obliged! So, after elderly

streakers and the worst rendition of
'Zombie' by The Cranberries that you have
ever heard, we finished our last few songs.
Was it a triumphant crescendo displaying
our musical professionalism? No. All of our
equipment was out of tune or on the verge

of collapse -- drumsticks breaking, strings
snapping, and it all dissolved into a
laughable charade. We still get flashbacks...