Earthdance failure & Pete Murray
I work at the Enmore Theatre. There hasn’t been a decent show since … well, the Middle Eastern All Star Orchestra around June. Case in point, Pete Murray’s shows on Friday and Saturday. Of all the soulless FM drivel to be affronted by, low on sleep and dosed with sleeping pills.
Saturday began in a hazy way, mid-morning post-Pete. I arrived too late for the Earthdance festival, held this year in Prince Alfred Park. Police were shutting it down, surrounding fences, sending fence-jumpers to the clutches of security, and uniform depression to pill-stricken teenagers left stranded outside. Some guy told me to jump on in, but I’ve retired from that - surgical remedies were sought post-jump for James Brown in 06’. I saw that show.
After an odd day, Pete Murray, sounding like a popular afterwash in the wake of Something for Kate, simplified and stamped out at two cents a unit. People like his face. The backing band came over as brutal exponents of the overly-keen nature of musical mercinaries, facial contortions for grandmothers, rockin’ out to clear lanes for emotive pearls of bile.
The merchandise counter had women’s panties with his face on them.


