g (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} tryingtobenice) wrote,@ 2008-09-30 22:32:00 |
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Pointless events you should avoid
So, I got an email to say that I could go along to a music awards ceremony. Not the real music awards ceremony, just another one that happens to be on the same week. Weird huh? They're both televised, unlike the book awards, which are lucky to even get a brief mention on the news...
It was at the Stamford Plaza and to get inside you had to pass this line of hard bodied women in black Jack Daniels tops and ridiculously short skirts who were proffering bottles of premix at you. There weren't enough people arriving at first, so they went around with trays, trying to unload the stuff on anybody without a drink in their hands. I found the table in the corner where my "band" were sitting, already whining about this and that, in the way of indie musicians everywhere.
Some terrible solo artists played acoustic guitars and sang onstage in the lobby, including ex-Zed singer, Nathan King. But some targets are just too easy, so let's just leave it at that. The place fills up and the grand piano is slowly covered in empty bottles, while the two greasy haired photographers that I always see at these events move around trying to find people they recognise. I see Clarke Gayford and Hollie Smith getting close in the corner, though luckily Barnaby Weir isn't there to sing any songs about it. I told Jane Yee that Special Features is lame now that she isn't on it. Anybody tried to watch that recently? Painful...
Anyways, we don't bother going into the main room to lose our two categories. In fact, our only dedicated time in that room is spent trying to walk in front of the cameras while Autozamm are playing. Chelsea watches from one side and signals me and Vincent when there is a wide shot - but the editor is too quick! We can never walk quick enough in front of the stage to get onscreen. I'm practically running by the end, but soon enough I've lost interest.
Enough beer and b-grade celebrities for one night. My friend who I thought might actually win, was beaten by Johnny Love, whose video was made by Daniel Wrightson, who runs the channel (his parents own Sky TV in NZ) - surprise, surprise! I stumble out of the place, with a shoulder bag packed with a couple of cartons of the fried noodles they were giving away and a couple of Jack Daniels bottles that were in such demand once the free alcohol dried up. Maybe I'll go home and watch C4 ... I think the Daily Show is just about to start...
So, I got an email to say that I could go along to a music awards ceremony. Not the real music awards ceremony, just another one that happens to be on the same week. Weird huh? They're both televised, unlike the book awards, which are lucky to even get a brief mention on the news...
It was at the Stamford Plaza and to get inside you had to pass this line of hard bodied women in black Jack Daniels tops and ridiculously short skirts who were proffering bottles of premix at you. There weren't enough people arriving at first, so they went around with trays, trying to unload the stuff on anybody without a drink in their hands. I found the table in the corner where my "band" were sitting, already whining about this and that, in the way of indie musicians everywhere.
Some terrible solo artists played acoustic guitars and sang onstage in the lobby, including ex-Zed singer, Nathan King. But some targets are just too easy, so let's just leave it at that. The place fills up and the grand piano is slowly covered in empty bottles, while the two greasy haired photographers that I always see at these events move around trying to find people they recognise. I see Clarke Gayford and Hollie Smith getting close in the corner, though luckily Barnaby Weir isn't there to sing any songs about it. I told Jane Yee that Special Features is lame now that she isn't on it. Anybody tried to watch that recently? Painful...
Anyways, we don't bother going into the main room to lose our two categories. In fact, our only dedicated time in that room is spent trying to walk in front of the cameras while Autozamm are playing. Chelsea watches from one side and signals me and Vincent when there is a wide shot - but the editor is too quick! We can never walk quick enough in front of the stage to get onscreen. I'm practically running by the end, but soon enough I've lost interest.
Enough beer and b-grade celebrities for one night. My friend who I thought might actually win, was beaten by Johnny Love, whose video was made by Daniel Wrightson, who runs the channel (his parents own Sky TV in NZ) - surprise, surprise! I stumble out of the place, with a shoulder bag packed with a couple of cartons of the fried noodles they were giving away and a couple of Jack Daniels bottles that were in such demand once the free alcohol dried up. Maybe I'll go home and watch C4 ... I think the Daily Show is just about to start...
