Gee muses

Nick Cave

It was dubbed the festival for people who hate festivals. It was much more. All Tomorrows Parties, curated by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, brought to Australia a laidback, devilishly cool, trippy day out in an almost perfect venue with extraordinarily good sound on all four stages and an exquisite line-up. Not a snotty little faux rapper, pop teen or kiddy punk in sight, this was really music for adults only - and it was celebrated with such flair and brilliance. There were no bad acts at All Tomorrows Parties, only good, gooder and goodest. The latter two words, of course, don’t exist but I’m saving the superlatives.

To the bands then: Young duo (augmented to a four-piece) Hunter Dienna opened proceedings. They need to relax. All earnest sombreness. It’s okay to smile guys. Their dark music is a little predictable but they are young and growing.

The Stabs are a knockout. The Melbourne garage fuzz quartet rocked hard and offered a keen sense of humour. Easy to see why Detroit likes them.

Sydney mostly girl quintet, Bridezilla, were a revelations. Still not out of their teens, this little lot are so obscenely talented it’s scary. They even got legendary actor Jack Thompson to play harp on one song. Their music is a beautiful cascade of equal parts folk, jazz, and edgy pop driven by a sax/violin frontline. They jam, they groove, the vocals are sublime. They are Kate Bush in the fifth dimension.

The five women who make up Melbourne’s Beaches are well into their 30s (I think) and their roots show. L7 meets The Dandy Warhols and Sonic Youth. Fun.

Joel Silbersher’s hard rocking Melbourne outfit, Hoss, delivered good old-fashioned Australian pub rock. And got an A+ for crowd banter.

Dead Meadow, the LA-based Washington trio, were one of the bands of the day. A stunning mix of 60s psychedelia and boogie and ’90s grunge. Awesome. Could have been San Francisco circa ‘68/’69. Ground control to …
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Image by Getty Images via Daylife

The Metro Theatre, Sydney
29/07/08

Famously, a reviewer once declared he’d touched God at a Radiohead concert. I didn’t at The Polyphonic Spree but I went so close it didn’t matter. This was the best concert of 2008. An extraordinary celebration of everything that is great about rock music; uplifting, deeply moving at times, thunderous symphonic rock, contrasted by great delicacy and shade, performed by a group of 23 musicians and singers. So good was this amazing performance – and I’m not prone to waxing lyrical and tossing out superlatives left, right and centre but I’m going to here - that I’d put it up there with greatest shows I’ve seen over the past 40 years: Led Zeppelin in 1972, AC/DC (1974 and ’76), Frank Zappa (1976), Radio Birdman (1977), Tom Waits (1978), The Cure (1981 and 2000), Bob Dylan (2001), Brian Wilson (2004), to name a few … revered company, indeed.

What made this concert special though was the pure inescapable joy that lies at the core of the Texans’ distinctly un-American’s music. They reach for the sky – physically and spiritually, and this audience was drawn in. The result was that incredible energy that surges back and forth between the two. Everywhere people smiled; for the whole two hours, they embraced, danced, sang, punched the air, moshed – nobody who was there will ever forget the cover of Nirvana’s Lithium that had the entire Metro moshing as one! Couples pashed, several people were heard telling their partner they loved them; the audience parted – like the proverbial Red Sea - when the band shucked off its black army fatigues for the original white smocks and returned to the stage via the back of the Metro and down the stairs through the crowd. People hustled just to high-five a member or get close. It all sounds religious, cultish, dangerously close to overkill but, you know what, it was simply glorious.

Led by founder and lead vocalist, Tim DeLaughter, who has an extraordinary amount of energy and a marvellous voice, the six back-up singers, two drummers, two violinists, one cellist, one harpist (yes, a harp), three brass players, a flautist, three guitarists, bass guitarist, and two keyboardists, simply soared. It was extravagant, poetic, humbling. People even cried with joy. It even blew The Arcade Fire away – and anybody who saw its January shows will know just how good they were. This was a massive triumph, a masterpiece, more reasons to believe than you dare to dream. I’m still smiling 24 hours later.

Who would have believed that out of the ruins of US indie psych popsters, Tripping Daisy, a band born of a different time and place and respirited in the ‘90s, would come the all singing, all dancing, quite remarkable entity that is the currently 23-strong The Polyphonic Spree?

And who would have thought a stage full of, initially, people in robes looking a bit like a mass breakout from some nearby cathedral or church, now dressed in black army fatigues and looking like they mean business, would be both viable in the economically challenged early 21st century and last longer than it took for the initial novelty to wear off?

Well, brothers and sisters, happily there have been us believers around the place since the beginning. Now, we could get all religious here but let’s not. There are no Tom Cruises in this story. Eight years after the Spree first formed and five since its first album, The Beginning Stages Of, it is now established as one of the world’s finest live acts and is buoyed by a cult following that is strong enough to keep this massive ark afloat.

Founder, lead singer, composer, multi-instrumentalist and songwriter, Tim DeLaughter, is baking in hometown Dallas, Texas, where the temperature is well over the old 100F (38C). “We’re frying, like little hot tomatoes. It’s a cliché but you really could fry an egg on the concrete out there,” he says.

DeLaughter is one of the smarter people I’ve come across in this business. A veteran of nearly two decades as a musician, he’s nudging into his mid-40s but his enthusiasm isn’t diminishing with age. With Tim, it’s matter of how much conversation you can fit in the time limit rather than trying to find enough conversation to get to the finishing line.
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Australian rock’n'roll is 50 - and I am proud to have been part of it for well on 35 years now as a writer, broadcaster (on public radio and online), TV identity (minimal exposure, thankfully), occasional promoter, scriptwriter for the ARIA Awards, and more. And if sounds like I’m pushing my own barrow - there’s a reason. It’s not sour grapes - I’m simply justifying why I can make the following comments. The Age has decided to put together a panel of judges and get them to deliver their 50 Top Australian albums of all time - you can find it at http://www.theage.com.au/multimedia/top50/list.html and sadly it’s rather blinkered. There’s a big difference between ‘favourite’ records and ‘best’ records. There have been a lot of lists of best albums over the years but this one falls far short of the mark. Many of my favourite Australian albums are on The Age’s list but I wouldn’t consider some of them amongst the best Australian albums of all time.

The judges seem largely to be in their 30s-early 40s and, frankly, reliving their own frantic youth - inner Sydney and Melbourne 1980-1995 … extraordinarily more than 30 of their nominations come from 1980 or later … even more extraordinary is only six of the albums come from the period from 1958-1973 - arguably the richest period in Australian music history and certainly the period identified worldwide by collectors as containing the many of Australia’s most significant and collectible records.

Incredibly not one woman gets a guernsey and even more incredibly only two women - Lindy Morrison and Amanda Brown, both of The Go-Betweens - are actually band members.

This is a list driven by what appears to be blatant ignorance - how else could you possibly explain Skyhooks’ Living In The ’70s at #2 - I love the band, the record, the whole ‘Hooks thing and I was in Melbourne when they were huge - but the second best Australian album ever - no way! And what about the inclusion of Victorian cult band Even’s Less Is More - honestly, only a diehard Melburnian could possibly even consider Even - good they may be but Top 50 material! In your dreams. The same can be said of Flowers’ Icehouse, Stephen Cummings’ Lovetown, regurgitator’s Tu-Plang, Jet’s Get Born (give us a break - token 2000s record, no more, wouldn’t make the top 200 of all-time), even The Church’s Starfish - and I’m a massive Church fan who believes Steve Kilbey is some kind of lesser God - is off the beam. And The Gurus at #4 - again, love ‘em, but Stoneage Romeos is a top 30 to 50 at best album.

Hell this list even includes The Easybeats’ Absolute Anthology - a compilation album … you have to be kidding.

So, you’re thinking, ‘okay big mouth, your making a lot of noise but what have they missed - put out or shut up’. In no particular order other than that in which they appear in my head, the following records should all have a place in the Top 50 Australian Records Of All-Time.

1. Extradition - Hush, 1971 - revered by collectors of folk and folk psych as one of the most extraordinary records ever released in that genre. Copies change hands for up to $1200. The lead singer, Shayna Karlin, has an astonishing voice.
2. Kahvas Jute - Wide Open, 1971 - extraordinary blues/prog rock album that also fetches massive prices and is revered by a worldwide audience as up there with anything in this genre ever released.
3. Tamam Shud - Goolutionites And The Real People, 1970 - masterful concept suite based on a song cycle bedded in acid rock. Good copies sell for $700+ - regularly makes world top 100s!
4. Jackie Orszaczky - Morning in Beramiada, 1975 - jazz rock/fusion album made with John Robinson of Blackfeather (At The Mountains Of Madness - yet another contender here). Absolutely superb.
5. Dave Miller/Leith Corbett - Reflections Of A Pioneer, 1970 - cross-genre, psych to country, album that regularly makes world top 100s. Again, a real collector’s item.
6. Madden & Harris - Fool’s Paradise, 1974 - one of the most collectible folk, acid folk records in the world. Issued on a private label, it brings to mind Nick Drake, the UK’s Mellow Candle and the like. In the $800-$1000 region.
7. Company Caine - A Product Of A Broken Reality, 1971 - many good judges believe this is Australia’s finest progressive record and arguably its best ever record. It is certainly mind-blowingly good.
8. Wendy Saddington - Looking Through A Window, 1972 - Australia’s greatest female blues soul singer on her only album which is actually a reissue of Wendy Saddington And The Copperwine Live (1971) with the title track, produced for her by Billy Thorpe and written by Aztec Warren ‘the Pig’ Morgan, added on.
9. Billy Thorpe & The Aztecs - Aztecs Live! At Sunbury, 1972 - Arguably, the greatest homegrown heavy rock album of all-time. A legendary set at the legendary rock festival. For studio Thorpie look no further than More Arse Than Class (1974) - which could easily be included here.
10. Coloured Balls - Ball Power, 1973 - A classic Oz Rock guitar album that recognises the late, great Lobby Loyde, formerly of two other seminal acts the Purple Hearts and Wild Cherries (with Dave Miller). Also check out Lobby’s remarkable solo set, Plays With George Guitar (1971), another classic.
11. Missing Links - Missing Links, 1966 - The definitive Australian garage/r’n'b album. As wild as it gets, this masterpiece of aggression sells for well over $1000 in good condition. Again, recognised worldwide as a true gem of its kind.
12. Pirana - Pirana and Pirana II, 1971/1972 - take your pick which is better. This was Australia’s Santana (think Soul Sacrifice era), capable of mixing jazz, blues, Latin and prog and blowing free. Very collectible and critically adored.
13. Bakery - Momento, 1972 - Perth-based heavy progressive rock outfit who even gained Frank Zappa’s attention. Has been rated one of the best records of its kind in the world.
14. Baby Animals - Self-Titled, 1991 - their debut was, for a time, the biggest selling Australian debut record ever and indeed one of the biggest sellers ever. A definitive hard rock record that has rarely been bettered. Lead singer Suze DeMarchi had a voice to die for.
15. Thought Criminals - Speed., Madness.. Flying Saucers …, 1980 - Primitive, raw, brilliant Australian punk album that’s up there with The Saints’ definitive (I’m) Stranded.
16. TISM - Great Truckin Songs of the Rennaissance, 1988 - It’s doubtful if there ever has been a greater electro funk/rock/pop Australian album. The most savagely satirical band in Australian history.

And that is just the beginning, ladies and gentlemen. Now, before you chuck up the old elitism and ‘most-people-never-heard-these-records’ (with a few exceptions) argument, let me say they have all - except for the Thought Criminals (the excellent compilation Chrono Logical is available though) - been issued on CD in the past few years and are easily available from any good record shop or online. And I’ve deliberately picked a bunch from the early 1970s to show what’s been missed from one period alone. There are many other records that have claim to making this list. Just think … Spectrum, Jeff St John, Levi Smith’s Clefs, McPhee, Not Drowning, Waving, Buffalo, The Cleves, The Scientists, Tully, Fraternity, Mike Furber, Galadriel, SPK, Makers Of The Dead Travel Fast, Severed Heads, Scattered Order, Sun, Madder Lake, X, La De Das, My Friend The Chocolate Cake, Yothu Yindi, and there is still more.

The Age list is a collection of favourite albums - not necessarily the best Australian albums ever. Check out the music above and see for yourself.

Also, and I won’t say anymore than this, question why Fairfax publishers of The Age and Sydney Morning Herald put this together in the first place. Now what was it you can win?

Australian music is rich and diverse and has enjoyed 50 great years but it is far more, unfortunately, than The Age effort gives it credit for.

Sydney Entertainment Centre
August 15, 2007
Some 2000 shows and nine years into the now infamous The Never Ending Tour, Bob Dylan swings like the coolest dude in the bar-room. Perhaps, a tiny shade less impressive than at his outstanding outdoor bash in Centennial Park a few years back, Dylan was still the chameleon, reinventing his classics to a more modern, but no less imperious, perspective.

The Times They Are A-Changin’ is no longer a folk standard - this version had Dylan half-rapping, half spitting out the lyrics to a waltz tempo; a brilliantly twisted Tangled Up In Blue toyed with the main melody and messed up the rhythm; Masters Of War was a breathtaking blues monster; Watching The River Flow boogied and swung like there was no tomorrow; Workingman’s Blues #2 was a highlight, slow and moving; and Highway 61 Revisited – well, it was breathless, paint-stripping stuff, a roaring wind of a song.

Driving all this was the band Dylan describes as the best he’s ever played with. Stu Kimball (guitar), Donnie Herron (pedal steel guitar, lap steel guitar, electric mandolin, banjo, fiddle), Denny Freeman (guitar, slide guitar), Tony Garnier (bass, standup bass) and George Receli (drums) are simply outstanding – one of the best bands ever to grace the Entertainment Centre.

With Dylan now well immersed in 1950s swing, boogie, Southern blues and country-tinged rock, this black-suited, variously-hatted quintet never missed a beat and showed a level of musicianship that’s rarely heard these days. And Bob? Well he played guitar for the first five songs, then stood behind his keys for the remaining 12. He growled, snarled, poured the words out in gushes, then swallowed them whole. He ranged from unintelligible to perfectly enunciated and ended with a take on All Along The Watchtower that again redefined the song.

By then, the shoulders on the old master were jerking, the left knee twisting and he even allowed himself a wry smile from time to time. And why not? It doesn’t get much better than this and he knows it. Bob Dylan is very comfortable and very vital in these modern times.

Oh yes, the big man tips truly (in the story below). The Melbourne Cup was run and won with the Japanese Horses, Delta Blues and Pop Rock, running first and second , respectively, a breathe seperating them at the finish. Maybe Better ran 3rd, followed by Zipping and Land ‘N stars (at 210/1). delta Blues paid $18.80 for the win! The bright amongst you will notice I tipped you the first two and 4th and 5th. Phew, what an effort. I am but a modest man though and I shall just say … good on me!

Okay, I love a punt. Even more, I love great race horses. And this is time of the year when heroes become legends. It is the time of the year when Makybe Diva won 3 Melbourne Cups, a Cox Plate and countless other Group 1s, when Saintly - the horse from heaven - flew down the centre of the Flemington track, his beautiful mane slipstreaming in his own breeze, and left a class Cup field in his wake, or when the great New Zealander, Kiwi, came from last on the turn with such a rush that he made the local trains look slow. It is the time when that lump of a lady, Empire Rose, thundered to glory, her massive rump shaking and a pounding down the straight, when Might And Power said goodbye to them on the turn and it was dust and daylight from then on, when old warhorses like Doriemus proved that toughness is what it takes to get a hoof on the cup. It is the time of the year when Bonecrusher and Our Waverley Star staged the greatest two horse war the Cox Plate will ever see, when the three-year-old Savabeel left a class field in his wake, and when another old warhorse, Fields Of Omagh, rewrote the record books with two Cox Plate wins and two placings from his five attempts.
It takes something special to win these races. And the horses that do know they have done good. Makybe, out on her feet, spent from lumping a weight carrying record for a mare to her third victory last year, still found enough to pose as she returned to scale to the kind of adulation reserved for only the greatest, no matter the sport, no matter the achievement in life.
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… is to win - as an individual … anybody who reads the blog of my gorgeous wife at Swandives will soon realise that running is very much part of our life. For me it’s what I do. I’ve always run. Ever since I was a kid. There have been times when I haven’t - the hippy phase (too stoned to, couldn’t give a stuff), the trashed journalist phase (too pissed), the fatboy phase (coke and donuts — ooh yeah, brothers and sisters), but most of the rest of the time I’ve run.
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So J (ta, man) put this together for me and now I feel I should utter.
Actually, I’m not sure about this whole blogging bit. It seems to me a bit of an ego wank. Still, I’m a Leo so having an ego is nothing new here.
How often I ‘muse’ will be interesting. Previous blogs have suffered from an extra lack of wordage which is weird considering I’m a journalist by profession. Maybe, I write too much as it is. Maybe I wonder why anybody but my immediate circle - and that’s small - should give a crap about what I do. i mean, it’s not like I care a lot about what anybody else who is blogging does.
Still. Roll the drums. Unfurl the flag. Let the experiment begin.