Black Fox loves Pony. That’s fact. Indeed, it’s played host to some our most treasured musical memories: the time Hazy took his pants off on stage, Mitch’s first gig with Black Fox, the live debuts of Burgle, Don’t Lose Your Mind, Suburban Rooms, and so on.

Every single surface in the inner-city venue is sticky with beer residue—truly the sign of a bar where people go to party. Actually, when Andrei and I were greeted by the door babe, we wondered why she was so surly. Now I realise that it’s probably her who has to wipe the place down from ceiling to floor at the end of the night.

Endearing surroundings aside, what gets people through the door at Pony is the reliable supply of local content on stage upstairs. Those who arrived early on Friday night were treated to the masterful guitar slinging of Winter Moon’s Jake Winter, then the upbeat dancefloor bombs of Dinosaurs Exist. Not too far into the Dinosaurs Exist set, vocalist Daniel Stott took the opportunity to reach over and provide the guitarist with a simulated wristy—the masterful nuances of his technique not lost on their appreciative fans.

Next was Cataract George, who—though not to be dismissed—stammered through a crowd-clearing set marred by assumedly technical complications. Mitch exploited one of the extended mid-song breaks as an opportunity to get up on stage and slap a tattoo on their vocalist’s chest. Bravo, Mitch!

Lastly, it was our turn to rock the casbah. Each song was raucously (drunkenly) delivered to the equally raucous (again, drunken) crowd. At that stage I’m guessing everyone in the house had had a lot to drink—spilt beer was everywhere! To close out the set, I belted my guitar to pieces. A protest against materialism? An adolescent fantasy? Simply just another fine Pony memoir? You be the judge.

On that note, thanks to everyone who braved the elements and came down—and an extra special thanks to the surly door babe for cleaning up the beer and shards of busted guitar at night’s end. See you next time, baby.


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