Somewhere along the line the previous evening I'd made disparaging remarks based on the reports I'd heard about the opening act (eight nuts and no balls) seemed to be the consensus among the Winterlong crowd, and I'd been catching snatches of conversation about something called Wolfman, which turned out to be Husky's tour de force showstopper (if such an animal actually exists).
I'm usually fairly tolerant of opening acts, since we know why they're there, and we realize their purpose is to fill in time and not draw attention away from the headline act.
Husky definitely filled in time, most of which I spent trying to figure out which early seventies prog rock semi-folkie outfit they reminded me of. In the end I couldn't come up with one, largely, I suspect, because anyone of a similar ilk that I'd managed to come across back in the day got skipped past too fast to bother to remember a name. On reflection, in the cold hard light of an air conditioned Friday morning the best description I can come up with invokes the Moody Blues, whose deep and meaningful lyrics I found overblown at the time. By comparison with Husky, however, the Moodies probably rate as Literature, and in a musical sense they were far, far rockier.
I'm giving considerable thought to finding my seat when I get to the venue in Sydney, just so I know where to return to, you understand, and spending the opening set at the bar. I'm still, at this point, not entirely convinced about the mosh pit find yourself a spot on the rails bit, but Husky make a powerful case against it.
Neil and Crazy Horse, on the other hand, make a very strong case for it.
There isn't a great deal of point in adding a review here in the Travelogue pages since the logical location is in the Music section of the site, so for the gory details I'd point the eager reader in this direction.
In any case, there isn't a great deal of point in differentiating between two shows with (I guess) close to identical set lists. Brisbane was #3 for Australia this time around, and the only variation to date has been in the encores. Roll Another Number in Perth, Like a Hurricane in Adelaide and a double bunger of Opera Star (first time played since 2001) and Roll Another Number this time.
What has, by all accounts, been consistent has been the dissatisfaction on the part of those the Rusties identify as the Heart of Gold Toe Tappers (label courtesy of one Bob Young, who's no relation). HoGTTs, of course, are the ones who expect to hear the hits, and more than likely the acoustic folkie Neil, and anyone complaining this time around either hasn't read or doesn't realize the significance of & Crazy Horse following the words Neil and Young.
There were a few such moans as I wended my way back towards Boondall station, and by an extreme case of serendipity a train pulled in just as I was walking onto the platform. The result was that I decanted myself at Central around a quarter to twelve, continued through the ticket barrier with the thumb over the use by time therein and did the seventy metre walk to The Rothbury one very happy camper.