Georgia Mooney

So what happened was this. From the mouth of the horse's BFF. KMH was doing a 55 date tour of Australia. You might be surprised that Australia has 55 venues; I know I was. It's got the population of London. KMH just wanted a female friend because her husband is Keir Nuttall. So Georgia got the call. Just three shows into the tour and something special happened. KMH realised that Georgia is a bit of a DICK. I didn't see that coming. Surely not? Must be some kind of Oz joke.

We were in the hot and sweaty steam room that is Bush Hall on the very first day of May. We were slightly late, to say the least. (No names, though see later.) But it was worth the arduous journey from West Ruislip into the heart of London's Little Australia, Shepherd's Bush. I last saw Kate Miller Heidke when she was living in London. She played Union Chapel ten years ago almost to the very day. She was ten years younger then, we all were, but unlike the rest of us Kate hasn't aged a minute. Not the same can be said for Keir unfortunately. The years have really taken their toll.

I don't know if Georgia Mooney has aged in the last ten years because I have never clapped eyes on her before. But I had done my homework. I realised she was no dick, despite what her friends say about her. Aren't we all partial to a flame haired Australian? If you think about it they are quite rare. I can only think of Madge Bishop.

Georgia describes her music as something to put on while stargazing or something and I know what she means. Break It Off calls Kate Bush to mind. Except Kate is less beautiful and can't really sing. The main advantage that Georgia has over KMH is that she still lives in London whereas Kate fucked off ten years ago and has regretted it every day since.

After the show we bumped into GM (she needs a third letter) but incredibly she was in some kind of band called All Our Exes Live in Texas. This discovered as I am listening to All My Exes Live in LA by Lola K for another piece on this very site. Anyway we bumped into GM, my stunning & lovely Babe from Brizzy (is it okay to name you, Clair?) and my good self, but as so often I found myself unsure what to say. Would GM remember my alter ego from all the IG love I have been going on about in the last 3 months? Not a chance. But I felt the need to impress Clair. I had to do something.

A smile. GM was holding a CD. Don't bother me with that rubbish, I said, pointing at an enormous 12 inch. Even though I have no hardware that will take a whole 12 inches. The day the CD was invented, music almost died. It finally croaked with Spotify. I think she was quite impressed. I'm Crime Guy, quoth I. This was the moment. This could go very wrong. Time stopped. The stars paused their burning. The moon ceased to wane. I looked askance at Clair, who seemed confused. Who the fack is Cryme Goi? she asked very loudly.

God GM is so talented and, now I realised, a proper stunner. Honestly these photos don't even begin to convey it. She makes Keir look very average indeed. She smiled, her eyes illuminating the whole foyer. My knees trembled. You're Crime Guy! Oh thank fack. Clair's head snapped back towards Georgia. My friend is from Brisbane, I said, feeling generous. They chatted about beer or knobs or something while Georgia picked up a vinyl to write on.

What's Crime Guy all about? she asked. Do you carry out crimes? That is the very first time someone has thought that laterally about Crime Guy. There was only one thing I could possibly say to that. I plan many crimes but we haven't actually done any as of yet.

Then who comes bounding over, full of the joys of spring but Dannielle Stewart, a tall Brisbane beauty herself with far too many n's and l's, and t's for that matter. She bonded with Clair over micro breweries (Clair's brother is an actual tiny little brewer himself) and a mutual appreciation of nursing while I tried desperately to impress GM.

I explained that my name was really Paul as she started to write. Approximately ten hours later she was still writing. It's literally 4 letters, I said. She giggled uncontrollably at this. The pen slipped with mirth. She had to go back over the heart again. Could this mean something? Finally she had finished. We almost missed the last train. (BTW We got the wrong one and only realised at Marble Arch.)

We arrived at Shepherd's Bush tube just in time to witness our first brawl as a crime fighting duo. We got really stuck in. Clair took a hit on the arm but miraculously survived after sucking in some Entonox, and we successfully minimised the injuries to the two lunatics who had decided to bash each other about in front of a crowd who could think of nothing to do other than film the proceedings as though it were a day out at the zoo. I'm happy to report that I managed to protect my signed LP throughout this fracas.

That was pretty much it. Except that on arriving home I got bollocked by Mrs Crime Guy for putting Clair in harm's way. Some might say arm's way. Was it my fault? Did any of this actually happen?