"I want to take you all on a journey… to a special place…. to…. the other side…. the other side…. of this song…"
Profound words from one of the most profound musicians of our time, Darren from Savage Garden. Or was it Daniel? Darryl? Dennis? Who the hell cares. I had the misfortune of flicking over to Channel 7 last night to catch a minute of Superstars and Cannonballs – Savage Garden Live in Australia. Here was the D-Man, the one with the spiky hair who think he's Bono, strutting up and down the stage in leather pants and a headset mic. He urged the crowd to come on this "journey" in his squeaky, breathy tones that made Michael Jackson sound like Barry White.
Camera pans over the crowd. It basically consisted of over-excited 12 year olds with spice girl platforms, braces and glittery shit in their hair, too young to know better. And their mothers, clinging furiously to their youth. Mountainous thighs spilling from too-tight skirts, magnificient hairstyles rising like a new apartment block, eyes glazing over at the sight of the D-Man's perky arse as he ponced along the stage.
Savage Garden: Sex Beasts Extraordinaire. But I gotta wonder if this was the kind of crowd they envisaged when they began their music career? Did Dazza picture little kiddies and middle-aged ladies screaming when he practiced his funky dance moves?