South
St. Valentines Peak, near the summit, looking west - Lutruwita
As far as music goes, the imagining of it, the creating of it, the idea or the inspiration is often the thing we attempt to rationalise. Good songwriters might have it easier - presumably they have something to say - a message or a feeling. I haven’t written any kind of decent song, but I know my stock-in-trade is atmospheres and I get many of those seeds from the natural world. And also certainly from visuals. To that end, I can think of few places better to engage this urge than Lutruwita - Tasmania. It’s South - at the beginning of the ends of the earth. It’s loaded. It’s quiet. It feels primordial. There’s a subdued vitality - one that requires certain care, as conditions can turn harsh, cold and hard-bitten. Around a third of the island is devoid of the stuff that people do. This place seems to say that ideas are on the way and that all one needs to do is wait. For me, Lutruwita possesses a powerful draw that found me atop St. Valentines Peak yesterday - a demanding hike. I was alone in some five hours of going up and coming back down this igneous mountain that shapshifts as you move around. It was magnificent. Now back down in the bolthole I’ve made in the NW, and also very sore, I’ll wait. I have a new laptop and recording interface to work with - no instruments. In a few days I’ll be heading east to play a 70th birthday show with Rob “George” Luckey, one of Australia’s truly great but unfortunately little-known singer/songwriters. Lucky for sure. People like him satisfy in me stories as song. I have to borrow a guitar, but the experiences do the rest.
earth.google.com/web/@-41.35498351,145.75466792,1015.79362051a,2097.27718131d,35y,0h,0t,0r
Dark Matter
Alyla Browne - The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart - photo by Glendyn Ivin 2022
I have no idea as to why I gravitate towards music and visuals from the darker end, but this has been the case as far back as I can recall. Very early on, I was listening to greatest-hits vinyl cast-offs from my father and experiencing real intrigue with rock songs like “Future of Our Nation”, “Black Night” and “He’s Gonna Step on You Again” - all minor key, dealing with grave topics, shadowy and foreboding. As my directions in music have opened up, this preference is simply part of what I do. My brother Glendyn is quite similar with his directorial and photographic work. Is this in the DNA? He and I were sitting in a car on a break from shooting for The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart, discussing the music, the atmosphere and the intentions for the finished production when we realised my recent collaborative album with Inga Liljeström, “Of Stars and Stones” had the required mood for some the story’s musical cues. Shared intent, DNA or otherwise, ended up seeing two of the albums tracks worked into the final score, the outcome being a perfect example of that familiar and essential synergy between music and film. In Episode seven you’ll hear these cues - on.soundcloud.com/2A9ue and on.soundcloud.com/kJ6DM set to trailblazing Australian drama, starring Sigourney Weaver, an actor whose earliest films, as viewed by an 11 year old me, did little to unravel a taste for darker things. The original pieces from which the cues were created can be found here - open.spotify.com/track/2ggLrI1aHUevtsDH4T75X5 & open.spotify.com/track/5TzW6rNk2qN8yZU4qGh1R2 - It’s possible the piece “Stars” may have some influence from John Kongos’ anti-apartheid hit from 1971, as mentioned above. It’s a fascinating thing. The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart is enjoying a major global trot on Amazon’s streaming giant so it’s wonderful to be an element in that. The series’ nuanced and artful take on an endemic social problem, albeit dark, is resonating with millions.
The Re-mains
The Re-mains in 2003 @ the Story Bridge Hotel, QLD - photo by Hali McGrath
My outfit of some 21 years. As far as bands go, it’s an enduring bugger. Founded on a set of stylistic and operational ideals, we’ve always stated that Country Rock N Roll is number one. For years there was this idea we were “country” - and to be fair just about anything could be, if you put a hat on it or got the syntax right, but I have for ages viewed us as a loud, Australian-tinged folk-rock act, very much in the tradition of what Dylan did when he upset all those people in the mid ‘60s. The terrific songs, courtesy of Mick and few from Shaun, have always been set to solid, uplifting musicianship. The first decade took our steel and banjo-powered act to an insane spread of far-flung locales, both nationally and abroad. Things have slowed down, but at last count, more than 5 years ago, there were well over a 1000 gigs under our belt. Of our recorded output, 2012’s Vregedonomy is my gem. Made on the back of a long Canadian jaunt, it just spilled out. I can barely remember a thing about making it since I was so wired with anxiety. That was our 7th album, but rest of the catalogue can be found here - https://re-mains.bandcamp.com/music - We’re doing a couple of gigs this weekend which has me waxing all nostalgic, but so did perusing Mick Daley’s 2009-penned run-down the band’s nascent origins. https://mickdaley.com/2009/10/07/from-same-head-different-shirt/
Flash
Peter “Flash” Sheedy with VH-WJZ @ YGDH 16/8/2023
Most of us in the arts instinctively link to their inspirations, but I’m lucky enough to hang around with one of my true heroes. Peter “Flash” Sheedy, a legend in the roots-rock, blues and country scenes for around six decades is pure old-school brilliance and know-how. For me, he straddles that line between my depression-era parents and Gen Xer’s like myself - when something needed doing, you figured out how and then ran with it. Flash is a peerless musician, producer and engineer. He built his studios, his guitars, his FX - he innovated his own way towards his own artistic goals. SheedySonic, Angelwood, the Sheedy Brothers, Johnny Greens Blues Cowboys, the John Davis 4 and many other identities link directly to Flash. My brother told me about him years before we actually met - the lashing of his steel guitar with the amp lead, or his hilarious stretchy guitar straps. We share a love of classic technology and science. Lately that took a wonderful step upwards, literally, when I finally made good on my years old pledge to take him flying. When we’re up there, he says “you love this, don’t you?” His instrumental guitar playing is perfectly honed, where every note shimmers like a jewel. He makes it all seem like a magic trick. He can take you right back to being a kid, when it really was all magic. Knowing Flash helps me keep track of what matters. When imagination and inspiration take off, artifice is left behind. I thank him for that.
This short documentary is really worth a look - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XBQPKJrYrv0
Lost Flowers
Southgate, NSW
During the end of 2021 and the beginning of 2022, I was working on set for my brother’s latest directorial work now showing on Amazon Prime, “The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart”. Now that it’s up and running, with seemingly all my friends and acquaintances watching and also pulling the # 2 rating spot for the streamer in the USA, I can say how proud I am of being involved and even more so of the excellence thrown up by Glendyn and the whole team. As a musician, we love to talk about how hard we work, and a lot of the time that’s perfectly true, but making a multi-episode TV show like this takes a lot more. With everything shot out of sequence to the story, it’s a dance of art, meets logistics and plain old elbow grease on no small scale. The added bonus is that I never get to know the story proper till I actually watch it. The show comes across as cinema, yet it is episodic television. The cinematography is artful. Along the way it was realised by Glendyn and I that some of the music I had not long completed with Inga Lilejestrom would be ideal for inclusion in the score for Lost Flowers. This, along with a cut from my long-time group the Re-mains has made its way into the lounge-rooms of millions across the globe. The above photo was taken during an idle moment, under the house that features in the early episodes of the show. It’s looking out from a foundation wall, across to the cane fields and the old sheds that are also bespoke sets for those episodes. You’d never know, but all around was the frantic action required to make a program such as this.
https://www.primevideo.com/detail/0JDCYN9S60GPSJ9OCGTBTSMZTJ/ref=atv_dp_share_cu_r
Of Stars and Stones
This fascinating little project completed during the thralls of Covid is also available as a real physical entity. It features a 20 page booklet with photos that inspired the project as well as the 5” disc that sounds way better than streaming does. I still buy CD’s and occasionally vinyl, not only because of the superior sound but also the fact you get the full story - the liner notes and all that interesting stuff. Spotify, with their relentless bleeding of artists globally oughta give their clients not only all the relevant info concerned with a given release, but probably a set of steak knives too. Inga and I have copies of this release and it’s available on our respective bandcamp sites for a mere $30. It is indeed a limited edition. So while stocks last… Feel free to sample it on the bandcamp pages - or heaven forbid - the streamers
Sydney - 22 July 2023
Enmore Road - 22 July 2023
Today I sat in the one pub and took in the ruminations of two phases of a musical journey whilst discussing the next. I did this with two of the best rock n roll drummers I know, and another cohort, of the keeper of Lawson’s secret himself. It was a cultural clash that lasted only a few minutes. Sydney always feels like that for me. I’ve walked by and underneath this structure countless times, but smart phones have made us “look” differently. All that data flying in and out of the buildings on those black threads. If it isn’t data then its the power for the data. It’s all going on. There’s a terrific Pho place under that middle window. I really should’ve gone there, but I had a burger at the pub instead. It just occurred to me that I must’ve been ill.
To the future
photo by Glendyn Ivin 17 July 2023
My old uni pal, Inga Liljestrom and I released our “fly by wire” pandemic project in 2021. It took about a year to do it, all via email, dropbox and so forth. We didn’t exchange a single spoken word to each other during that time. It was a fantastic exercise. Each of us got to ruminate on the others contributions at length. It’s all up on the various streamers and we both get a smattering of income for that - we could buy each other a coffee to two by now - but better still, take a look on Bandcamp - https://leighivin.bandcamp.com/album/of-stars-and-stones - where you can also get an old fashoined compact disc with a 20 page booklet. Many of the photos that inspired us are within. But I digress.
Inga and I met up in Melbourne yesterday to discuss our next project. So far, we think we’ll take the opposite approach to our first outing and cut it predominantly live in various inspiring locations. To kick things off, we may have begun the artwork, as we sat in my brother’s Brunswick-noir kitchen/lounge/cinema, he shot scores of photographs using some very cluey techniques - as is his want. Is there anything wrong with starting a new project in a somewhat backward fashion? I’d say absolutely not.
It was great, also, to spend some time in Melbourne and the Bellarine Peninsula with some of my very favourite people. Whether tracking for a new album or just wandering about hearing live music beaming out of many different venues, big and small, I just knew I was witnessing at least some parts of this country awakening from the pandemic induced slumber.
Still life, in the studio
I still love doing this. Studios offer opportunity. Today, it was tracking for what will be the sixth release on which I’ve been featured for my dear friend Sarah Carroll. Her and her’s are without question my other family. Shannon Bourne has loaned me several wonderful guitars to do this with, all while I threaten to erase his work on the same project. He in turn readies to reciprocate. This is how we work best. Jasper Jolley oversees all this malarky from a swivel chair at his Big Fridge studio.
Those who still do
It feels right to idolise the ones I’ve seen grow up around me. I could say the likes of George Carroll Wilson make me sick with envy. And that might be fair… but of course they don’t. They are a living affirmation of why this artform matters. Here he is, steeped in musical DNA and wiping the floor with all-comers.
Websites, soundscape and non-rock
Photo by Glendyn Ivin, Brunswick, July 2023
I feel as though it’s all changed. Doing something else seems the right idea. The residual is trauma. Maybe generational trauma. I don’t know who my forbears were, but here I am picking up what’s left. It’s time to pull music out of thin air. The pandemic of 2020/21 weakened an already dwindling live music arena. Sure things have returned somewhat, but diluted. In my home state, bowling clubs might usurp the pubs. Why not? I’ve met less than a handful of publicans who really cared about what we do. As for the gigs, I’ve half joked.. well not even.. that they can be a matter of simply waiting for the next thing to go wrong. That’s a terrible attitude, but I’m being honest. So to that end, I’ll turn my efforts to this stuff here - music for imagery, for and of. Music made out of next to nothing, ignoring facility and anything involving much motor skill. It’s like picking up objects on the ground and placing them somewhere where people can look at them. If it ends up applicable or in any way interesting, well, fantastic. That’s a win.