Some people might know that I’m a (tragic) Simple Minds fan – well, at least of their New Wave stuff, up until Once Upon A Time. Walking home from the city tonight, the opening verse of Ghostdancing sprang to mind:
Cities, buildings falling down
Satellites come crashing down
I see them falling out the skies like eagles
All mirrored glass and shattered egos
But in a corner of the world we’d meet to laugh and drink and plan our sequels
‘Cause in the alleyways and bars downtown
They’re singing up from here to there can we go
This city comes alive at night, see these city walls are heaving
And if these old city walls should crash, amid the rubble you’d find us breathing
Now I’m trivialising the intent behind the song terribly, but the line “this city comes alive at night” has always resonated strongly with me. That’s the first thing that pops into my head on those nights that are packed with people and buzz and neon and wonder.
Nights completely unlike tonight.
The city was dead tonight – absolutely dead. Bugger all people wandering Rundle Street. It was as if the Fringe was over, finished, petered out to its usual anticlimactic sputter. Matters weren’t helped by the fact that I had tickets to see Fiona McGary at a Rhino Room that had absolutely no intention of being open, and I was the only person to turn up to see Nick Sun’s Peripheral Yak :: Burnout Edition show. Nick was nice enough to sit and chat though, which was ace – and we discovered a mutual Mike Patton appreciation. Cool and relaxed.
Heh – Mike Patton appreciation. And I’ve just quoted Simple Minds.