A Hypnotic Epiphany

Blue Frog is gonna be a month old.

Snatches of conversations near the ever-crowded bar:

“Who wants to listen to the mushy angst of publicity-glutton Bono? Ain’t he the original solo boys band prototype, if ever there was one! Play another O-I’m-so-heartbroken-‘coz-my-girl-can’t-get-her-derriere-in-shape and I’m gonna barf right here…”

“Dude, are you the music fan my mum warned me against. Stuck inside the time warp with the Hendrix blues again… hahaha. Give me the raw uninhibited blood and gore of eminem any day. Man, that’s pure HST gonzo music.”

“Ladies, stop fighting. If I wanted a debate, I would hire a Michael Moore DVD. For a musical spectacle, I would recruit Al Gore. And when I do want some attention, I would show the tattoo where the Sun don’t shine, how would that be to beat Madonna at her own game, eh? For now, can I just raise a toast to Patti Smith prayer, arseholes…”

“In fact let me buy you a drink fellers… Hey, my dear Tom Cruise, juggle your booties and do your number. Shoot them with the Blue Frog Venom dude! And come, lets all savour the musical notes and lyrical octaves on offer here with some blue-blooded alcohol to wash it down with….

“Bravo, absolutely brilliant,” escaped a whisper from the voice at the far end, nursing a cognac over cigar, the curling smoke sinuously twisting around the razor-sharp contours of the lovely apparition: “For that my darling, to be caressed and cajoled and punched and kissed by such gravity-defying slurry of words, I’ll sell my soul to the devil. Alas, that was the first thing I sold.”

“To you, my wondrous friends, I offer myself”, said Blue Frog, the hostess herself:

“Savour me, relish me, tease me, try me, trust me, Seduce me, make love to me… but don’t you ever dare abuse me…”

And when you walk outta that door, leave your mojo out here for me to curl around and bask in its glow till you find your way back to me again…""

And I been finding my way back ever since. In the 27 live performances during the month, (The Frog sleeps on Mondays), Blue Frog has shown the world its mettle. Every single performing band has emphatically expressed the same sentiment: That this is one of the best venues they have ever played anywhere in the world!”

But it was summed up succinctly and authoritatively by Louis Banks on 8th Jan when he thanked the Club for the opportunity to play at Blue Frog as, “this has become a hallowed place for musicians to perform”.

For me its becoming like a hypnotic epiphany. All my life I had dreamed about starting a Blues Bar that will be called Hemingway by the Sea where live and recorded blues music would play. From the windows of my soul, I could see myself running this joint swapping stories with Howling Wolf, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Bob Dylan and every artist that I love. In a metronomic replay within my head, these artists and their artistry would be the nine muses who would sleep with me… So on and so forth…

Blue Frog is definitely lots more than a mnemonic concept within my head. The fact that it exists today and is so close to what I had always dreamed about privately (Remember The Secret Lives of Walter Mitty) is what creates this hypnotic epiphany is what pulls me there practically very night.

The question is: Where does Blue Frog go from here?