Monday 14 May 2012

A Blog Post In Which I Attempt To Work Out Exactly What Is Happening In November Rain.



The Crushed team have asked a few of our close friends to guest blog a response to our upcoming play. Second to take the stand is Dr Who expert, shark lover, former Senior Producer/Programmer of ABC’s rage, former Series Producer of Raw Comedy and current Researcher for Kitchen Cabinet, Madeline Palmer. Given her years as rage programmer, we asked her to use her witty music knowledge for good and offer us an interpretation of the popular Guns ‘n’ Roses music video: November Rain
‘It’s a tale as old as time; love is only found before it is cruelly lost. It could happen to any of us, for it happened to Axl Rose in November Rain

Axl sits on the edge of a four-postered bed lit by the most poignant blue moon in the history of
love, poetry and lunacy. He seeks solace in a handful of pills washed down with whiskey, but no relief comes. Instead, he tosses and turns in a suspiciously large amount of silk bed sheets, as he dreams of summers past.

He dreams of the glorious hours wiled away lighting each other’s smokes in the basement of a
bikie roadhouse, of the time Jesus himself shed a bloody tear for the beauty that was their love,
of their resplendent wedding filled with the most magnificent collection of steampunks ever.

Ah, their wedding. Axl’s hair had been perfect all day. His fianc√©e’s face was demurely hidden
behind a lace veil, while her wedding dress revealed a less demure amount of leg. Slash had
been his best man. If only Axl had known...

Slash forgot the rings, of course, which should have immediately served as warning… Instead,
Axl accepted a ring offered by his drummer, unaware that this small act would directly lead to
Four Weddings And A Funeral and the mainstream infiltration of Wet Wet Wet.

As Axl slid the ring onto his bride’s finger, joy flooded his most manly heart. Slash looked on, his jealously burning as fiercely as the cigarette he inexplicably smoked during the entire ceremony. As Axl and his bride shared one of the most tonguiest of kisses of all time, Slash could no longer bear to watch, (I know how you feel buddy), and he charged out of the
chapel. For he could not continue to hide his terrible secret – his greatest love was none other than Axl’s leggy bride.

How does one handle such torment? By removing his shirt, standing in a desert as barren as
his life, and ripping out one of the most EPIC GUITAR SOLOS OF ALL TIME.

The wails of Slash’s instrument drew helicopters from far and wide for they could not but
bear witness to his spread-eagled expression of pain.

And far away, the other side of the church presumably, (for some reason not in the desert and not even the same church), the bride and groom were ushered to their wedding car, rice raining
upon them and the bride looking wistfully off into the distance. (Perhaps for her secret lover
Slash?)

Ever the entertainer, Slash shredded for long enough to bridge the annoying gap between wedding and reception, giving the guests something other to do rather than wait in a nearby pub trying to make conversation with someone’s aunt.

The wedding party reconvened at a Tuscan villa, (no doubt close to the desert church), for
champagne, cake, blue velvet, saxophones and more smoking. The bride and groom looked
happy. All was as it should be. Even Slash appeared to have been somewhat relieved of the burden of his secret love.

Their joy was however, as all joy is, ultimately fleeting. The dark clouds rolled over and rain poured down on their special day. This was portentous and tragic and not at all ironic in any sense whatsoever. To escape the deluge, a waiter leapt over the table and their fragile wedding cake collapsed in a way that is not portentous, tragic or at all ironic. The spilled wine flowed like blood.

In the months to come, Axl would dwell on this moment, (he had endless hours to fill), and it is
better to think of a wedding day than what came after. The day he would return to that same
church with his wife lying in a coffin, her face split with a mirror - apparently common with death
by gunshot wound to the head, (and nothing to do with the movie Face Off).

Axl would look to the heavens. His heart would cry out. A dozen violins would play for his sorrows (literally). You know what I said earlier about Slash’s guitar solo being the most epic
guitar solo of all time? That was until now. Right now. For Slash is also heartbroken and
wracked with guilt about his forbidden love. He leaps on to the piano in front of the screaming masses at the concert I’ve neglected to mention until now, and his guitar screams with grief as Axl pounds the keys in rage.

As red roses lie across his dead bride's coffin, Axl remembers her wedding bouquet, and looks
to the sky as another storm rages above him and within his heart. 

Because, as he might have sung but didn’t, ‘Nothing lasts forever, except November Rain.’

Like what you're reading? You can follow Madeline Palmer on twitter: @msmaddiep

Like what you're hearing? Then book your tickets to Crushed! 

No comments:

Post a Comment