S P E C T R U M S P E C T R U M S P E C T R U M
 
M I K E R U D D B I L L P U T T . C O MM M I K E R U D D B I L L P U T T . C O MM M I K E R U D D B I L L P U T T . C O MM M I K E R U D D
 
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November
 
gig report / Spectrum plays the Newport Bowling Club with the Gringos on Cup Sunday

1) Mike goes a tiny bit ape-shit with Brenden Mason 2) Way Out West's Rob Rowe takes the plaudits with Bren and Mike 3) George Butrumlis and Mike party on in Box Hill
Spectrum debuts a 'surprise' guest at Newport - Mike strikes a chord with George B.
6.11.17 - The Willy RSL is no more - long live the Newport Bowling Club! A virtually identical room set-up to the Willy and so many familiar faces ensured a seamless transition to the Newport Club for the 5th of November Spectrum show. Maria talked me into coming with her in the poodle as I only had my stage gear to bring with me, but despite arriving well-and-truly early I wasn't able to get my gear on stage with my present cluttering deaf bastard set-up.
Our unmentioned 'surprise' guest this afternoon was, of course, Madder Lake's Brenden Mason, who's appearing with SPECTRUM*plus at the Satellite Lounge, our last gig of the year on Sunday arvo on the 10th of December. (See details on the Gigs page). Bren and I sat out in the green room ('They're all green' Rob Rowe told me, 'It used to be a hospital') during the Gringos' set. Bren said he preferred not to get depressed listening to a really hot guitarist, which the Gringos' guitarist Brian Strafford clearly is, and so we both stared mournfully out at the vacant greens (or, as Bren thought more accurately 'khakis') until a solitary bowler arrived for a practice session.
Then it was Spectrum's turn. 'So, we're playing what's on the list?' Daryl enquired. 'Yes' I responded with reassuring certainty, forgetting momentarily that we were preceding the songs on the list with Going Home, which of course wasn't actually on the list.
There was immediate confusion bordering on pandemonium that might've challenged a mind less accustomed to coping with self-generated disorder than mine, but soon we were back on track and Brenden was introduced a second time to a bemused audience and took up his position on the Spectrum stage, a position that I would normally occupy but which I'd foregone in the interests of Brenden being able to check where my fingers were in an emergency.
In the end we all made a few mistakes too, but the audience was either in a forgiving mood or just didn't notice/care because we received such a rapturous reception at the conclusion of the second set that we had to give the crowd a couple of encores.
After a year of intermittent at best gigging, the prospect of another gig on the same day was an extreme novelty, although strictly speaking such an irregular commission doesn't really fit the standard definition of a gig. George Butrumlis, (pic 3) the genial gentleman piano-accordionist for my 1st BASE outfit, had requested me to join him at a residence in Box Hill South after the Newport shindig to play about twenty minutes worth of my songs for a mystery birthday girl - well, a mystery to me anyway. Not to Bill Putt apparently, as he and Sarah, whose 60th birthday it was, had formed a friendship way back in the '80s. George told me that Sarah's a very fine cellist and there was Sarah (I assumed) and a room full of her fellow musicians assembled to greet me when I entered the room on a cue from George.
What followed was one of those special events in an shamateur musician's career when he gets to play to the respectful attention of his peers, albeit peers in a parallel musical universe, partnered with a superb and forgiving player like George Butrumlis. The B version of I'll be Gone actually elicited tears - so many tears that George began to wonder what the hell we'd done wrong. The audience was so finely tuned that my picking up the wrong harmonica for Having a Wonderful Time was chuckled at knowingly (asking for trouble putting my harps behind me) and my squiffing the words to She's a Woman remained politely unmentioned in despatches later.
What a day it had been! M and I got home rather depleted and went through the motions of watching a recorded episode of Doc Martin before retiring to bed, exhausted but happy with the way the day had gone.
 
 
 
 
 
M I K E R U D D B I L L P U T T . C O MM M I K E R U D D B I L L P U T T . C O MM M I K E R U D D B I L L P U T T . C O MM M I K E R U D D