Lessons in suckitude
Nothing sucks like sucking in public.
Although, given that perhaps 90% of the crowd cleared the room within my first half-dozen records last night, when I took the decks after incredible sets by Lusine and Matthew Dear, perhaps that no longer counts as "in public"? You certainly could not have called it a quorum.
I blame the braining. Early in the evening, during setup and soundcheck, a monitor hanging from the ceiling failed to yield the right of way when I stood up suddenly, sending me straight to the ground, clutching my head and marveling at the strange new way my teeth seemed to fit together when I closed my mouth. The rest of the night, despite steady application of Red Stripe and Red Bull (not mixed: I wasn't that confused), everything felt... kind of... off. If there are any brain surgeons out there, get in touch, because I'm looking for expert medical witnesses to testify on my behalf that only short-term brain damage could have accounted for the fact that, not four hours later, in mid-set, I mixed out of one record, pulled it off the turntable, and proceeded to hit the power switch on the active turntable, killing the sound then and there.
Like I said, nothing sucks like sucking in public.