When I told my doctor I was moving back to Rocky to work a job on the Brekky shift, he was concerned about two things. 1 - whether I’d be a good girl and get enough sleep; 2 - what I’d do between work and sleep, and on the weekends.
The answers were “yes” and “whatever I like, but probably something music-related.”
I first heard Jimmy Asher’s band early last year, back when they were called Cat Rapes Bat. I really dug their music, so I blogged about them on whothehell and kept meaning to see one of their shows while Jimmy was living in Brisbane.
I never got around to it and Jimmy moved back to Yeppoon to finish his teaching degree. He changed the band name to something a bit more friendly, inspired by a piece of Brisbane graffiti… and so This Isn’t Paris was born.
Being the retiring type I am, I decided to convince Jimmy that the band needed a bass player and that bass player needed to be me.
We had our first band practice on the weekend, at some random shed in the middle of nowhere that the drummer Brett’s family owns.
This is Jimmy and a couple of Brett’s relations helping to load all our gear into a four wheel drive. Told you the shed was in the middle of nowhere.
We drove along what was pretty much a goat track carved into a hill, and eventually made it to the shed.
Emptying out the truck, with a bonus elderly dog.
Us practicing in the shed/Brett’s sister’s house.
Anyway, I’m having a blast.
Here’s the current demo, sans bass of course. You can also check us out on Facebook.
tagged as: tumblrize.
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