It was a stinking hot day

We were lined up to play

At 4.20

My legs seemed to be healing up

But still tender and sore

Post op

The rest of the group had to carry my gear

And I got off light

Hannah had a green room for us just up the street

I had one beer but couldn’t eat

When the stage was set

We just took off

And so intense

About five songs in I registered the heat

Black stage black clothes

Straight into the sun

By the time we got to Howl

I was becoming short of breath

And by Losing Colour

I was a ghostly shade of sunburn

For all that it went by in a flash

Just a flicker in time

I didn’t want to do the encore

Out of steam in the sun

But Your Body Stays

Is always done

I couldn’t physically sing the last part

Then I put down my guitar

I stumbled off

And found a place to be sick

I’d let everyone down

My body had quit on me

And mocked

The thing to me that matters most

It’s only a big deal to me I know

And no one probably even noticed

Or if they did

It would have meant very little

The band had played well

Delivered on the set we’d promised ourselves

We’d been working on it all year

The Spines, the songs and my guitar got us through

It had just been bad luck

That the surgery was timed that way

In sporting terms

I left it all on the field that day

The Ghost of Electricity – War Stories by Jon McLeary is a new initiative at Off The Tracks, a series of stories and reflections from painter, writer and musician Jon McLeary