Richie Lewis (Tumbleweed) interview 2010

Before grunge even had a name, five guys from Woollongong calling themselves Tumbleweed were about to become Australia's most obvious link to the global fad Cobain's boys spearheaded. 1990 was Time for the Guru, and Nevermind was still a whole year away, but Tumbleweed, a throw-back in many ways, debuted with a single whose sound would dominate everything for the next four or so years. Early success in the form of Sundial (Mary Jane) and Daddy Long-Legs reinforced Australia's love of this new under-produced, underdog rock known as grunge. However by their own admission, Tumbleweed couldn't beat that first buzz, and as the decade wore on, along with their friendships, the end was in clear sight. Ten years on though, and with a zen-like new approach to life/music/art, singer Richie Lewis is reunited with his old band mates for a second go at the elusive joy of a musicians lifestyle.



The band's 2009 reunion is rumoured to have been slowed by Lewis's objection, so he begins our talk by revealing a few truths for the record. "What happened was I was the most reluctant, but then I didn't really know the others were so keen to do it. I was saying no for a long time, but I was also one of the first in actually doing anything about it." A chance meeting with an old band mate began the process, he explains; "It started with me running into Paul (Hausmeister) for the first time in years and having a conversation with him. I'm a big believer in that if a few coincidences happen simultaneously in your life, then you really should listen to what they're telling you." Lewis continues, "I remember I went to a restaurant one night and there was only one seat left and it was right next to Paul, and we just looked at each all night and finally when he got up to go to the toilet I started talking to his girlfriend and I said to her 'you know how it mentioned in the paper that I'm the one that's stopping the reunion, well that's not exactly true.' She then said when Paul gets back I should tell him so, we ended up back at his place drinking wine and talking about it, and finally we just agreed to plug in and see how we sound and if it's any good…" Richie pauses, "We organised a practice and bang it just sounded right." He states, "I mean we could have had that conversation a couple of years before but it was just the timing was right. There was enough water under the bridge, it was time to let go and sort of bury the hatchet."

As the light went back on in Richie's mind regarding his band's future, he also faced up to his part in its demise. "Form me it was a realisation of the fact that it's okay to be wrong sometimes and just admit it and what I had with those people was great, and it wasn't really worth holding onto this pride any longer. I mean playing and being friends with these guys again has been just awesome man." During 1996, at the band's peak, they split into two parties – Lewis and the Curley brothers, feeling they had a greater say in matters due to them starting the band, clashed with Paul Hausmeister and Steve O'Brien over growing trivialities, before finally asking them to leave. Tumbleweed continued on, but with declining success. "When this original line-up broke up it was acrimonious and we held onto our grudges for a long time." Lewis recalls, "We didn't do the right thing and it was a decision we had to live with for ten years. We ended up, in the later years of Tumbleweed trying to make up for this loss of energy that had come naturally to us before, and although we had some great new musicians in the band, it was a struggle to reach that peak again. When we got back together last year, first of all I had to realise to myself, I was in the wrong. I had done the wrong thing by Steve (O'Brien) and Paul and therefore by the band, and once I was able to confront that we were right back at the start and we could allow ourselves to enjoy making music together again."



Speaking on the reunion, which is already heading towards its first 12 months, Lewis's love of his bands' music has only strengthened now that his friendships within the band have rekindled. "It's a great thing you know, when you hear that sound again, our sound, all this stuff we had kept bottled up for ten years is just gone." He shrugs, "It's also more fun now, in that we're older and wiser and we can enjoy the music more without all the other crap you go through when you're in your 20s. This used to be my reality, but now it's more my escape from reality which is why I think I appreciate it more."

Tumbleweed's first official reunion show was at the 2009 Homebake festival, which was quickly followed by the decision to carry on, prompting the question of a new album. The last one was 2000's Mumbo Jumbo but, Lewis quick to point out, is nowhere near an indication of where he wants to pick up from. "We have been writing and there are new songs but there's still a lot of work to go yet, but we're totally going back to the early days and trying to write from the place we first started at." Richie confirms, making reference to his state of mind as a young musician. ""I don't wanna say too much really, I mean…" He stops himself, "It's early days I can't really talk about it at all actually." Before I can move on, he jumps in again, determined to give an answer; "I want it to be really long and psychedelic and I want it to encapsulate what I thought early Tumbleweed EPs could have been but with a bit more musical knowledge but, I don't think I'll write anything that could be a potential hit."



The band had clocked up several hit songs, such as Sundial, Hang Around and Planet Of The Weeds, but the fall-out from success, Richie explains, was the death of his art; "In the early days there was focus, and something that was really unique to us, and that's what I want to get back to on any new music we make. Back then we thought, "oh such-and-such a song sold quite a few, we better try and write more songs like that' and what ends up happening is things become more contrived as you go on and you end up honing your art to suit what people want." He elaborates, "Its like when you go and see year 12 artwork and there's all this freedom and ideas but sometimes the craftsmanship hasn't quite caught up with the idea, but the catch is as soon as the artist hones the craft, the idea automatically becomes contrived. I'm more about the impetus, the moment of creation and that's what all good art is to me. So that's what we've got to get back to and if we can't capture that spirit of uniqueness, then I don't think there's much point. I'd hate to put anything out anything that kills what we've done in the past, but right now it's still at a pretty natural stage, we're just writing new songs because it's a fun way to start and end our practice sessions."

lEIGh5

Click to watch:

Tumbleweed "Hang Around" video

Tumbleweed "Sundial" video

Dave Faulkner (Hoodoo Gurus) interview 2010

PURE MAGIC

Bands wanting to stand out from the pack in the early '80s, ultimately lead to a lot of bizarre creations that we either look back and laugh at or revere depending on level of authenticity. Sydney's Hoodoo Gurus could easily have landed in the just plain funny pile, were it not for their ever increasing stack of classic singles. Ignoring the post-punk and Europop trends of the day wasn't so remarkable in itself, but harmonising Beach Boys style while rocking like The Stooges and sporting paisley shirts and bandannas must have seemed like taking the hard road. It is however, for those very things that fans identify the Hoodoo Gurus with and love them for. These days the shirts may be a little quieter, but the raw garage rock of new album Purity Of Essence and an imminent 'back with a vengeance' tour should have quite a few ears bleeding.



Talking today on his band's live return, it's clear in singer Dave Faulkner's voice that the rush of rehearsing for tours has never waned - "We packed up early last night because things were just going so well and we felt pumped and ready." – As a live act, the band have been showered in honours, but before we get into our talk on perfecting their live sound, I wonder how Dave's inclined to react upon hearing a Gurus classic on the radio. "I don't really listen to the radio, but what does happen occasionally is I'll be out at a pub with friends and one of our songs comes on the juke box and it really does take you out of the moment." He exclaims, "It's like suddenly you think 'oh yeah that's right I'm the guy that does that for a living." Laughing, he continues, "Early on that sort of thing was a bit difficult to deal with, as it was an interruption to my sort of 'normal life' - my life outside of the band - but now I just take it as it comes."

During the band's hiatus/unofficial split 1998-2003 I wonder was there a time when the singer took exception to hearing his 'old band's' music? "No, I mean no more than usual", He jokes, "But listening to the albums is never that pleasurable because we just think of all the things we could've done better. Even now in rehearsals I'm already starting to sing a couple of the songs differently to the album and I'm wishing had've recorded them that way instead." A bug bear of Dave's and probably a common one for singers, is wishing he could've done it differently on the day. We have a rifle through some back catalogue gems that would see him pop into the Tardis and have another go at given the chance. "Come Anytime I always thought I could've sung a lot better - I mean six months after it was released I had that thought". He offers with a little frustration in his voice, "At the time I thought I was doing the best I could but later on it became a bit of an annoyance to me." Dave sighs, "But you have to let these things go and realise that fans love the song as it is and whatever I might think would be better isn't necessarily an improvement from the listener's point of view." He concedes, "Our early albums I think suffered a bit in that they didn't really capture our sound as well as they could, but then I think we really found our identity on Magnum Cum Louder which was just us pleasing ourselves, and we continued to stick to our guns right through the latter albums, I think."

Current album Purity Of Essence boasts some of the band's heaviest rock moments to date. It brings me to ask Dave what has him laughing in the face of 'slowing down' with age. "Well we still have the energy to do it, and we've always loved rock music so why not make it big?" He laughs, "Once again it's just us sticking to what makes us happy as a band and trying to make the music we want to hear. Anybody who's seen us in concert knows that we breathe fire on stage, and the new album is as close to our live sound as we've ever come." On the subject of making up for lost time on the current album, Dave is non-committal. The break-up and subsequent reunion was, Faulkner points out not your typical clash of egos or I-never-want-to-see-you-pricks-again situations. He states, "There came a time where I just didn't have anything written and rather than try to force a substandard album, I thought it was best just to have a break for while. "He adds smiling, "I think of that period as like the Chevy in the garage up on blocks waiting for a few parts to come in, and then when the time's right you put the wheels back on and away you go."

The Hoodoo Gurus have produced many near legendary singles and are celebrating 26 years together, but it seems the length of a band's career has become less and less of a remarkable thing today. Dave, on the subject of longevity, once quoted "As long as people still want it, we're in." I wonder does Faulkner, despite having an enviable core following, ever feel there is a battle to maintain an audiences' interest.  "Always yes, it is hard for a veteran band to stay relevant when everything's so focused on what's the newest thing." He explains, "I mean the Hoodoo Gurus being the Hoodoo Gurus isn't a news story but 'hey here's a new band everyone's listening to, you must hear this' is. We can't compete with that sort of novelty or that huge industry of the constant new thing, but then again I think the music we are making now is adding to our value rather than diminishing it or that we're becoming irrelevant just because we have been playing for x amount of years."

For fans of Spinal Tap or Some Kind Of Monster, The Gurus made their very own in-studio band parody film during the recording of Purity of Essence, featuring cheesy label honchos and healthy dose of self-mockery. All class song performances aside, the viewer is left  almost feeling they're seeing a new band enjoying their first time in a proper studio and making a debut album with nothing to lose. Dave laughs and says of the film, viewable on YouTube, "We were quite prepared to throw out all the dramatic stuff and just keep the performance clips, but in the end I think it worked and shows a side to us I don't think people would expect." He laughs adding, "I mean we are the ultimate band of brothers, and like all siblings we have ancient squabbles that never get resolved but we also have an unbreakable bond. That (film) really is how we are when we get together, strange as it seems!"





lEIGh5

 

Tex Perkins interview (2010)

After almost 30 years mounting and humping the crap out of any musical genre he takes a fancy too, Tex Perkins is showing no signs of slowing down. Amidst a second run of his hugely popular Johnny Cash tribute shows, Tex has taken, by request, a sidestep into headlining an overdue solo career retrospective as part of the Between The Bays music festival. In recent years he has toured again with Beats Of Bourbon, The Cruel Sea and his Bumhead Orchestra project after long retirements for each group. This retro-reminder has Tex taking the chance for a quick plug; 

“Add this to your pile of information on me, I am Sydney doing my Man In Black show at the Opera House and all are welcome.” It’s the week before Sydney’s annual Mardi Gras festival and Tex suddenly find’s himself faced with a potential clash of events. The word is, a renegade contingent of the Mardi Gras goers are planning a massive nude run at the Opera House; “I’ve got a matinee on Saturday so I’ll be there, what time is it?” He says non-plussed, “I do claim to be a nudist, generally in the privacy of my own home, but I doubt I’ll be able to resist getting involved in that somehow. I’m not ready to show it all now, but I’ve got a week to work on the body and if it’s a Mardi Gras event then I guess I’ll have a week to get gay as well.” He adds confidently, “I recon I could swing it too.”



It’s already going that way, so cringing I do a Rove, and ask Tex who would the man would ‘turn’ for; “Oh, well I’ll give it some consideration and give you a proper answer.” Tex takes his time seriously considering his options, until finally; “The problem is there are too many people, there’s like a gathering at the door, a bottleneck if you like of potential suitors.” After more consideration Tex asks, “Does the person have to be gay all ready or can I just win them over with my pretend gayness?” At last he goes for a safe bet; “Kevin Rudd, in an S&M sort of thing with a rubber ball in his mouth.”



Pre-Man In Black success, Perkins confounded his fan base by releasing an unconventional covers set with no attention to quality or content. Tex says of project dubbed The Ladyboyz’ conception, “I’ve always been a bit of a cabaret clown or a karaoke tragic but in reality that was an exercise in fucking with the record company.” The Ladyboyz album No. 1’s and No 2’s included shoddy remakes of music’s mushiest ballads; “They (the label) had the stupidity to ask me to a covers album, that was their amazing marketing strategy for me and I thought ‘you fucking idiots, alright I’ll give you a fucking covers album’ and presented them with the Ladyboyz CD, making sure my contempt was prevalent in the offering.”

 

Putting a band together to help him see through even his ill-conceived ideas has never been an issue for Tex. With his many years of fronting various, unrelated bands in mind I ask Tex his secret to keeping musical partnerships alive; “Some you can’t maintain, because they’re not healthy relationships, but in most cases I‘ve been lucky.” He reveals, “Bands like The Cruel Sea and even the Beasts, we have enough distance and we’re not together all of the time so you’re not down each other’s throats, or up each other’s arses too much.” He grins, “As for the Beasts Of Bourbon the only reason we weren’t the biggest band in the world,” laughter, “was because of my lack of commitment to the task, and that’s just how I operate.”

Mornington Peninsula’s Between the Bays festival is into its fifth successful year, as headliner Tex reveals his slot is likely to be a best of affair, with a twist; “I’m doing my solo career retrospective with my current band who are known as Black Cattle Dog. It is however reaching the end of it’s guise as a retrospective because I have just been writing a shit load of songs.” The ‘shit load’ reference is a theme Tex runs with; “I’m just taking the pile I got already and heaping another pile of shit songs onto that and seeing what happens. I might even take a couple out for run around the block at the Between The Bays thing which is something I don’t normally do, because let’s face it, nobody’s beating down my door for it, but fuck them I’m gonna do it anyway. “He says, amused, “I haven’t had an exclusive debut, an inaugural of a new song for a long time, so let’s talk it up.” On that note, our time runs out. I offer Tex my best wishes for his new material and the upcoming headline slot at Between The Bays. He retorts; “Ah who cares.”

lEIGh5

Rock Symphony: Chrissie Amphlett (Divinyls), Diesel & Baby Animals (review)

venue: The Palais  



Two worlds collided at the Palais on this night of orchestral and rock music with some very interesting results. For our headline three acts, the pub circuit was basically their baptism into live music - a fact that becomes very prevalent during this slightly bizarre union. The idea to combine three leading Australian rock acts with a 30 piece orchestra was dreamed up by musical director Tim Count who asked all three artists to compile a set list of their best loved songs, which would then be arranged for an orchestra. The concept was in many ways was exciting but there were quite mixed results in practice. Of the many highlights, we are privy tonight at a rare public appearance by the first lady of Australian rock - Chrissie Amplett along with a newly assembled Divinyls line up.

 

The vibe amongst the mostly over 30s crowd at the start of tonight's show is subdued for opening act Diesel. His regular touring means many fans tonight are unlikely to have missed him, but seeing him pull out hits from his days with The Injectors (Cry In Shame) is a rare treat. The obvious problem with Diesel's part on this bill however, is his music – based in traditional blues rock - and the string accompaniments simply don't mix. Despite the up tempo song choices, it's clear the two bands are not gelling at all and for a while it's easy to ignore the fact also that Diesel's band is much louder than the orchestra, and poorly amplified as the drums dominate the set, but before long I'm hanging out for the finish. He does although get some points the for song choices; Masterplan and Tip Of My Tongue which work particularly well with strings.

The recently returned Baby Animals were right into the idea of the symphony shows from the start but during their set, similarly to Diesel, sound problems plague the show. Putting this tour together involved working by correspondence on occasion – Amphlett and Suze DeMarchi (Baby Animals) both live in the US now – and only two days of rehearsals were organised meaning the chances of everything going to plan were pretty slim, considering the amount of performers on stage. Unlike Diesel who soldiered through the obvious problems, Baby Animals - who of all three acts are the most straight up rock band here – struggle to get their performance just right. Stopping between each song to adjust mics, levels and volume, the Perth based group play a heavy, punchy set in the mode of 'get loud to compensate for the missives'. Opening with hit Rush You, they keep the noise and tempo up until midway through when ballads Painless and Make It End allow the orchestra to shine through. Typically, Suze DeMarchi is in top form showing incredible vocal strength and unconstrained energy, while her band plays at the intensity usual for a festival crowd.

With respect to the other acts, it's Chrissie Amphlett who's the real draw card tonight. Her set is preceded by a stunning original overture, building along with the noticeable excitement in the Palais. The muttering in the stalls stops immediately for the music as we know it's only moments before the one-woman tsunami of rock steals our senses away. For the first time tonight, the orchestra gets to show their stuff and take the focus from the rock bands, but just as the comfortable feeling of swirling strings and horn blasts sets in, a spot light catches the sight of four men quickly entering the stage and parking themselves in front of the orchestra. Nobody could contain themselves anymore. As nice as it was to hear the symphony's overture, and as awful as it was to have sit down for the whole show - nothing else matters now that silhouetted figure in a long flowing overcoat and fedora appears sheepishly in the wings, motionless, but already teasing us with the very slight tilt of her head skyward to let the light catch her pouted lips - the Amphlett trademark expression. The Divinyls singer slowly begins to make her way to centre stage assisted by a walking stick. This spectacle is both funny and alarming as the full impact of her Multiple Sclerosis becomes all too clear. In the moment, I am certain she is hobbling for effect in her layered tramp-like overcoat and face obscuring hat, as though she's about to burst out of her imprisoning outfit and become the pogo-ing Chrissie Amphlett of old. In truth the singer had to retire from music several years ago because of her illness which tonight has visibly taking it's toll.

This is Chrissie's evening though and every person in the room is with her all the way. Meanwhile, the band have been laying down some slow grooves with only faint orchestra backing as Chrissie positions herself at the mic and without warning starts to croon; "Lover, lover why do you push/Why do you push, why do you push...". Her voice is incredibly commanding, and we all end our applause as if scolded for mis-behaving. The re-arrangement of Pleasure & Pain both a triumph and a shock; here we have the rock and symphony bands working together perfectly for the first time tonight. The song's new seductive edge works so well and allows Chrissie to ease into the performance, saving her energy for the more demanding power rock tracks yet to come. It's only after this song, Chrissie ditches her walking stick and starts to remove the oppressive looking grey overcoat, under which she is beautifully attired in a black tailored jacket and ballooning skirt cut just above the knees and black body-hugging trousers buttoned at the cuffs. (I'm wondering how many fans here were surprised to see the trademark school uniform hasn't been let out to play tonight.) After Amphlett struggles out of the coat to wild applause and finally lifts her hat to reveal long boldly dyed red hair cut just at eye level - the way she's always worn it dating back to the Divinyls debut in 1980. The band's two earliest hits Science Fiction and Boys In Town follow Pleasure & Pain, played closer to their original sound than the opener. The strings thankfully remain subtle on Boys In Town - it is after all meant to be tense and cold. Science Fiction however is helped along by an intruding timperley, giving the song an energetic lift.

The last Divinyls hit single, I'm Jealous (number 14 in 1996), receives a glorious remodeling with the cellos soaring above the gentle guitar melody. In moments like these, it becomes apparent that Divinyls embraced the orchestra idea and used it greatly to their advantage instead of just playing loud with apparently unrelated chamber music going on in the background. Baby Animals and Diesel didn't really take the chance to augment their music with the orchestras help for the most part. Chrissie Amphlett has one advantage though, she's worked with both rock bands and orchestras and it does show. Pre-Divinyls days she was a choral singer with an orchestra in Sydney making tonight's show something of a circle being completed.

 

Towards the end of the relatively short set, some brave people including myself rush to the front of the stage - against the wishes of the frankly ridiculous security - to give Chrissie some love. Close-up, I can see her left arm is trembling as she forces her body to move about the stage and do what has come naturally to the singer for so many years now. We know the end is close when I Touch Myself begins, and Chrissie takes another chance to seat herself, almost child-like - knees together and feet wide apart – in front of the raised drum platform. The performance has been tough on her physically, but her voice and incredible presence have not wavered one bit. A final, seemingly impromptu song - a cover of Easybeats' I'll Make You Happy ends the night just as fans start to bottleneck in the narrow lanes between the seating for a final dance. To a last ovation the band line up and bow, before turning to applaud the orchestra. Director Tim Count's vision has to be applauded also, as someone who took a massive risk with a project that fell a little short of its full potential, but had real moments of greatness.

lEIGh5



PALAIS SET LISTS:  



DIESEL -

Man Alive

My Baby Likes To Boogaloo

Walkin' The Blues

Since I Fell For You

Masterplan

Tip Of My Tongue

Never Miss Your Water  

BABY ANIMALS -

Rush You

One Word

Nervous

Don't Tell Me What To Do

Painless

Make It End

Hot Air Balloon

Enemy

Early Warning

Ain't Gonna Get My Love  

CHRISSIE AMPHLETT (DIVINYLS) -

Pleasure & Pain

Science Fiction

Only Lonely

I'm Jealous

Punxsie

Elsie

Boys In Town

I Touch Myself

I'll Make You Happy

L-R: Suze DeMarchi, Diesel, Chrissie Amphlett

   



























HERE ARE SOME YOUTUBE LINKS TO HIGHLIGHTS FROM CHRISSIE'S SET:  



Pleasure & Pain: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cBvsx_0CAsk



Science Fiction: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Rx58oERkMM  



Boys In Town: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e6Nn1kwNQ94



I Touch Myself: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OJ0Gxz-5M_w  



photos by me.

Charles "Chucky T" Thompson (Area-7) interview (2010)

LUCKY NUMBER

The 15 year anniversary of Melbourne’s premier Ska outfit, Area 7 has rolled around and the boys are planning on partying like teenagers to celebrate. In the mid ‘90s they spearheaded an unlikely revival of skanking tunes during a time of zero interest in the genre. Thankfully, Australia caught the Ska bug and Area 7 helped kick open the door for acts like The Living End and The Resignators. With the band’s live reunion imminent, guitarist Charles “Chucky T” Thompson on this sunny Australia day afternoon talks me through the heyday of Melbourne’s pub circuit as a young music fan and soon-to-be live draw card in his own right.



“When I was 16, 17 you’d go up Brunswick Street to The Royal Darby and Punters Club then you’d nip down to the Tote and it was only a couple of bucks to get in or sometimes it was even free and you’d get to see just heaps and heaps of bands in weekend.” He begins. “There’s much less of a scene now though, and I feel bad for young bands who are struggling to get their first gig because of the competition from more established acts. I think the kind of working class element is really gone from it which is a shame.” Much adored pubs like The Tote closing down has, according to Charles, created a big hole in the live scene; “I have so many great memories of going there and seeing bands like The Meanies and The Mavis’s on the same bill and you just don’t get that sort of thing happening anymore. The scene is kind of dying off.”

Discussing the thrill of going to a mixed bill of bands in one venue brings up what Charles feels is his bands legacy – one of inclusiveness among punters. “One of things we always wanted to do in Area 7, keep it accessible and be a kind of ‘everybody’ band. The thing that was great in the early days of the Ska and Punk scene was it was accepting. Whatever you were wearing could become your uniform and they weren’t ruled by money or elitism, so we all really loved that aspect of the Ska scene.” Area 7 as a ska band don’t fit the genre entirely as Charles points out, they’ve always incorporated a little rockabilly into their sound as well; “We’re basically a pub rock band who love the ska, punk and rockabilly sounds and further more agree with what those genres really stood for.”

The sense of fun in Area 7’s music is undeniable also. Beginning as a Madness tribute band, perhaps lent an easy up-beat optimism  for them to develop as an originals band, I suggest. "Well we were basically recruited in to the Madness tribute band (known as Mad Not Madness) through knowing the singer and various musicians around the scene, but it was never a conscious thing of ‘let’s be a Madness tribute band’ it was more that Area 7 evolved out of that because a couple of us wanted to do our own thing.” Charles was instrumental in kicking off Area 7 as an original band through his songwriting ability and an urge to get away from the tribute formula. “It’s funny because at the time we were doing the whole Madness thing it seemed like an eternity since they had split up, but in hindsight they’d only been away for a few short years, and then they got back together soon after Area 7 started and are now celebrating their 30th anniversary and we’re on our 15th, so we definitely made the right decision to go onto originals or otherwise we would have been made fairly redundant, I think.” He laughs.

With success a long way off still, sticking to Area 7’s musical roots according to Charles was not exactly setting them up for guaranteed popularity; “My recollection of it is, when we started Area 7, ska was still pretty much a dirty word. We were given support by a couple of venues like the Tote and Punters Club, but no sort of mainstream venue would book us, but now it’s gained such a massive following and there are many great ska acts finally getting some recognition.” Ska fans usually come complete with some indicator of their devotion to the lifestyle beyond just owning the music. So how deep does Area 7’s ska/rockabilly obsession run? “I’m quite into the style and the fashions but I’m not a collector of old Hotrods or anything like that” Thompson laughs, “Although our singer Steveo’s right into Chevy’s and Dave Jackson (Keyboardist) is into the whole 1950’s comic tattoo art associated with the rockabilly scene, so to varying degrees we are all into the broader Ska thing outside of simply playing the music.”

The Chevies and Hotrods (or at least Tarana’s and Commodores) of suburban Australia were, at the start of the last decade, incomplete without a certain Area 7 custom built anthem cranking out of their speakers. So how proud is Charles of Nobody Likes A Bogan? “We were a little surprised at how well that song did, but in short we’re as proud of that as any of our others. It was however a good way of reminding listeners that we don’t take ourselves too seriously but it was by no means an indicator of what that whole album was like.” 2002’s Bogan still stands as Area 7’s only cross-over hit, spending six weeks on the ARIA charts and even gaining radio play from Triple M. “When it started getting popular, I did worry a bit that people might get a bit offended or not really get what that song was about, but what actually happened was people I think saw the funny side and realised we weren’t just taking the piss or anything.” It was in fact an earlier single that caused Area 7 to cop a bit of flack - the irreverent Himbo. “I never really understood that at all, because there were a couple of lines in there describing metrosexuals and spending too much time in the mirror, but apparently that was crossing the line. It’s like you can take the piss out of some things but then you can’t do so with others, and when you’re in a band you really can’t over think that sort of thing.”

 

Although they’re celebrating 15 years together, Area 7 could be mistaken for a band-no-more with so little notable activity in recent years. Charles explains their absence and what brought about the group’s hiatus. “You know, I got married in 1998 and my poor dear wife had to have our honeymoon on tour with us and The Living End, who were actually our wedding band as well” He laughs, “So looking back I realise she had actually given up quite a bit to let the band do what we needed to do, and now I have three kids so unless the band could’ve worked out some kind of schedule such as work seven months then have a break for the rest of the year so we could be parents and husbands as well, I couldn’t see away around it and so we agreed to take a break.” Area 7’s label Zomba also made continuing on a difficulty by simply closing their Australian branch, leaving many bands out on their own. “Once we no longer had a label pushing our album and organising tours, we just went our own way and decided that we’d tour if we were asked and record any future music and release it independently – which we did in 2005 with the album Torn Apart.” Charles finishes by adding; “We’re only here to enjoy making music, and so when the label thing happened we just went, yeah okay fine, we’ll just do it our way then. Since that time we’ve played with Reel Big Fish and did the tour of East Timor for the UN and so it’s hardly like we’ve missed out on much not having that label support.”





lEIGh5

Suze DeMarchi (Baby Animals) interview. 2009

THE FABULOUS BEAST

In the lead up to talking to Suze DeMarchi, I hurriedly scoured the net searching for archive interviews with the Baby Animals singer looking for an indicator of what I was expecting to be a ‘difficult’ discussion. While preparing for the worst, it occurred to me I had absolutely no founding for this preconception. Did the direct and confident delivery in her singing voice somehow translate to me as aggression? Its true Baby Animals had that fuck ‘em if they don’t like it attitude with Suze as our very own Joan Jett who didn’t need to remind us how much she loved rock n’ roll. The feisty singer of such hits as Rush You, Ain’t Gonna Get My Love and Lights Out at Eleven immediately dissolves my irrational fear over the phone from Perth where she’s visiting family, “You’re my first interview today, so I’m not completely jaded yet!” She begins with a big laugh.

“I’m so excited about these symphony shows, this is definitely going to be one of those ‘I’m so glad I said yes’ moments.” Suze jumps right in before I even bring up the four planned shows where Baby Animals along with Diesel and Divinyls will be multi-headlining a rock and symphony extravaganza much like Kiss and Metallica before them. “I’m even gonna wear a tux n’ tie for the occasion!” DeMarchi enthuses. The project, set to take place in January, is in the capable hands of musical director Tim Count. His work includes TV and film scores as well as tickling the ivories for The Angels and Angry Anderson. It was noted events organiser John Zaccaria, however who called Suze out of the blue asking for her band’s involvement. “He called like, five or six times before I was sure I wanted to do it.” She tells me, sounding a little amused, “What convinced me was for one is Chrissy Amphlett (Divinyls) is on board and she’s just… wow! Plus Diesel and I go way back; I’ve known him since I was 17.” She continues, “Secondly, in the beginning this whole thing was going to be a one-day-only concert on Rottnest Island. I don’t know if you’ve ever been to ‘Rotti’ but it’s just one big party.” Rottnest presented a few strategy problems, so instead a short tour was announced. “Well because of how the place is laid out it basically would’ve been impossible to sell tickets.” Suze explains, “There was just nowhere to set up a stage area that could be fenced off and made into an arena separate from where everyone goes to drink and party.” Taking the show on the road has resulted in one or two small problems. Despite the extra performances, there’s still only two days are scheduled for rehearsal. “That does make me a little nervous,” Suze laughs, “We have to get in there and nail it and make totally sure that everyone is on the same page. That should be interesting!”



When choosing songs to be accompanied by the orchestra, Suze made a list with a ‘no changes option’ which will be handed to Tim Count, but was it a simply a task of deciding what would and wouldn’t work? “Well basically, there’s no reason why any of the songs wouldn’t work.” She states “A song like Painless backed with strings I think is going to be exciting, and even Early Warning which is a fairly standard rock song, I can hear a lot of potential for that too. The list I made came more from the songs I wanted to hear in a completely new way.” Suze confesses she’s in total awe of orchestra people; “When I lived in England I worked at a theatre making sandwiches for the London Symphony and I would see people coming in all day to record various things with them, I remember Billy Connelly even did a session one day, and the band would just walk in and sit down with the sheet music – no warming up – and off they’d go. After it was all over, they would just sit around laughing and chatting until the next person came in the use their services.” This story makes me think of a pair of shoes left by the door waiting for a foot to go in them and take them on an adventure. “It’s just that these musicians were so disciplined.” Suze continues, “If they were bored it didn’t show, but it did make me realise how much patience I was lacking.”



With all the discussion of the orchestral arrangements, I’m reminded of the contrast between Baby Animals debut self-titled album (1991) - which followed a fairly tried and true rock formula - and the second album, Shaved & Dangerous (1993) which took a huge leap forward in terms of consciously avoiding any traditional rock song structure. Suze admits now that perhaps things got a little over ambitious during the writing of their sophomore album. “I don’t know if I would call the second album a leap forward, probably more a trying-to-hard-to-be-clever experiment.” She reflects, “It wasn’t fun for me to make as a writer, because the guys were competing to make all these deconstructed arrangements and ignoring time signatures, all that sort of thing and it was really hard for me to write lyrics that fitted.” These less traditional arrangements must be an exciting prospect for a symphony orchestra; “I hope so, I mean they don’t really get to perform with rock bands very often just like we don’t get to play with orchestras, so hopefully we’ll all get something interesting out of the experience.”



Being back in Australia for family and business matters has reinforced Suze’s seemingly long held desire to get away from the wacky world of Los Angeles; “I’ve served my time in LA, man so that’s why I’m planning on dragging my husband back to Australia.” Suze moved to the US over ten years ago to be with her husband Nuno Bettencourt of the recently re-formed, Extreme. “My plan is to get him to move to Sydney first, let him get used to that!” She laughs, “Then eventually over to Perth so we can be near my family. He doesn’t know yet though!” DeMarchi admits the bond to her birthplace has only strengthened during her time in the US. “I think about my daughter, whose 13, growing up in LA and how she’s really bought into the whole instant fame thing and it’s really despairing. She wants to be an actor but she doesn’t seem aware of what work is even involved with doing that.” It’s clear that Suze is concerned for her daughter and looks to her former home as a salvation from her vapid adopted town. “There are a lot of good things about LA, but there’s also the endless stream of Paris Hilton clones and yeah, I just don’t want my daughter to end up like that. I want her to appreciate things and work for what she wants.”



With the cut throat world of instant fame in mind, Suze reveals how close she came to being the next singer of INXS before they decided instead to pick a reality show winner - the recently dismissed JD Fortune. “I was pretty disgusted by that whole thing,” Suze confides, “I was like, well I don't want to compete because if I lose, I'm just gonna look ridiculous." She claims, "Anyway, the producers of that show actually told me they would rig it for me to win if I agreed to all these terms and conditions, so that was it for me, I refused and so I was out." Suze continues, “I feel so bad for Andrew though, he and Michael (Hutchence) were so close from the very start and always wrote together, so when Michael died Andrew lost his bro. We’re talking a great musical partnership that was equal parts Andrew and Michael, and sadly Andrew just hasn’t been able to find anyone who he has that spark with since.”



After the INXS fiasco, Suze, far from defeated by the experience, finally began writing the next Baby Animals record. Il Grande Silenzio was released in 2008, 15 years after their previous effort (equaling the wait for Chinese Democracy) but most importantly, time had been good to the relationships between the four original band members: “We didn’t really grow apart or anything.” Suze explains, “We used to meet up every couple of years or whenever we were all in the same place and there would always be talk about doing something again but because we all had kids, we knew it would have to just wait. It was really only a matter of time, though.” Despite the years off - with the exception of a solo release in 1999 – DeMarchi assures me she never lost her urge to rock. “Oh, I always kept that dream in the back of my mind. I’ve always said since I was a teenager playing in pub bands around Perth, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life and that has never changed.”





lEIGh5



Link to Baby Animals performing "Painless" at the Rock Symphony show in Melbourne: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=78G6WFZ1tps

Dean Manning (Holidays On Ice) interview, 2009

COLD COMFORT



Singer, writer and multi-instrumentalist Dean Manning maintains the ultimate bohemian lifestyle. Dividing his time between music, travel and fine art, the former Leonardo's Bride guitarist - who penned the 1998 ARIA song of the year, Even When I'm Sleeping - has exhibited his paintings several times, many of which are impressionist postcards of his tireless travels, and more recently has reunited all five members of Holidays On Ice – a kind of East coast super-group – for album number two and a tour. The writing on Pillage Before Plunder, much like Dean's art, is a document of a restless troubadour. Talking from his Sydney home (no doubt a place he holidays in), Dean considers his every response and wastes no words as he shares with me what feels like fragments of a great untold story.

"Traveling is a buzz, obviously" Dean begins; "I like the rollercoaster lifestyle, because I get bored rather easily and I need to be out of my comfort zone to work. I also like to have a purpose and so I have sort of fallen into this life where I can be purposeful and satisfied." Living the romantic life as an artist and musician, Dean is rarely required to compromise his great loves. "I don't compromise my personal relationships in favour of work, there are a lot of impracticalities about that, but I do think it's important to keep pushing myself whether it be in painting or writing." Dean's artwork often features a self portrait within - if not the main feature - prompting me to wonder, is self-examination a motivation to paint. "I think that's a subconscious thing really, and I have tried painting friends many times, but always at the risk of horribly offending them." He laughs, "I have had some strange reactions to my portraits (of friends) they say things like, 'is that `really how you see me?' so it's probably for the best I stick to self portraits. I mean I think it's really cool how Paul Kelly can write songs from the perspective of a woman, but I'm quite lazy in the way I really only give my own personal take on things." One of the most notable things about Holidays On Ice's album is the breadth of styles on offer. Dean puts this down to time spent writing in different countries on his own, and sporadically with his band mates as the opportunity arose.



"Some of the songs were actually recorded many times in different ways to see what genre they would best work in. The heaviest track on the album Ribbon Round A Bomb, started out as an acoustic piece and ended up with layered electric guitar and a duel vocal between myself and Angie (Hart). It's funny how some of the criticisms about the album have been people saying 'I really love the heavy tracks, (like Ribbon…) but what's with all those other folky ones' or visa-versa but really the heavier tracks could have ended up softer, depending on what we thought worked when we got in the studio." Dean tells me French avant garde singer Serge Gainsbourg was a reference due to his constant switching in genres. "Eat A Peach on the album is a little tribute to Serge. He put a lot of noses out of joint, that guy for having the audacity to not stick to playing one type of music. He'd put out a reggae album and then a blues album and it seemed to piss off a lot of his fans because I guess they wanted him to repeat whatever it was they liked him for in the first place. I like that he was against the idea of repeating himself, and that he didn't give a fuck what anyone thought of him."



As we talk of idols, Dean reveals a surprising affection for 1930s Hawaiian tattoo artist, Sailor Jerry who patented many of the identifiable sea-farers marks (anchors, mermaids etc..) I wonder if Dean is bit of a salty-dog at heart. "I never really acknowledged an interest in the sea and sailors until it was pointed out to me by a guy who wrote a bio for our website." He laughs. "Perhaps I shouldn't have included so many sailing boats (in the album art) and sailing references in the songs. (No Flowers Grow On A Sailors Grave) There's no getting away from it now!"



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Tim Freedman (The Whitlams) interview 2009

The Whitlams are band who’ve had more misfortune than a Shakespeare tragedy. It was from the Sydney group’s well documented darkest period that the album Eternal Nightcap emerged. Packed equally with wit and cynicism, something in those songs sparked with Australian audiences. Perhaps we identified with the bare honesty of one man’s stories of fallen friends, (Buy Now, Pay Later) or unprecedented rolling good times, (You Sound Like Louis Burdett), or was it spending a little too long browsing the personals section? (No Aphrodisiac). What ever the reason, the album has moved into ‘Australian classic’ territory. Twelve years on from its self-funded release, head-Whitlam Tim Freedman is revisiting his over-achieving third child, buying it a beer and making peace with the bits he wished he had paid closer attention to.



I’m facing the interviewers equivalent of waiting an hour to hear the punch-line of a joke. Tim Freedman’s in the back of a taxi making his way through Sydney traffic towards his Newtown home and on a worryingly low battery. I’m hedging my bets the phone will conk out as soon as our talk starts to flow. Tim isn’t concerned, “I’ll just put it on the charger when I get home, it’ll be alright.” Often slightly begrudging of the interview process, Tim is keen to start; “We might only have five minutes so let’s get cracking!” He reminds me.



In the last three years, The Whitlams have toured their last album of new songs, Little Cloud, a greatest hits collection and more recently with various symphony orchestras, re-arranging their catalogue for chandeliered concert halls. “There were also the ‘girlfriend songs’ and ‘death songs’ solo tours.” Freedman interjects, giving me a green light to discuss those troubled times in which the breakthrough Eternal Nightcap (1997) album was made. But first, does the songwriter feel time has been good to the work? “Yeah, well I don’t think I’ve become any better at writing songs.” He says, self-mockingly, “But I am quite proud of that album really, because it was actually the result of about ten years work. There was a lot of thought went into the lyrics and every line was in there because it was part of a story that kept forming over time. I can appreciate the work that went into it objectively, except for my voice!” He laughs, “I think I sang very strangely and over annunciated everything too much. That alone makes it sound the most dated of all our albums, to my ears at least.”

Playing the album live again, Tim is most looking forward to ‘correcting’ his vocal delivery on the well loved set. The recently released recording of his band with the Sydney Symphony orchestra reveals Tim’s voice has undergone a striking change. He’s displaying a greater confidence in his notes and using more of the scale. There’s also the slightest gravelling in that formerly boyish warble. “I think my singing has probably improved a bit, yeah. It’s difficult to listen back to that album because of how weird my voice sounds, but playing it live means we get to modernise it. No one in the current Whitlams line-up even played on Eternal Nightcap, so it’s going to be very much about updating the songs, instead of simply revisiting them.”



There are tentative plans, he reveals, to re-arrange the whole album with the Sydney symphony later this year. “If it goes well and the MSO have a break in their calendar we’d love to bring that show to Melbourne as well.” Tim has always maintained a long distance love affair with the rainy city, as documented on the Eternal Nightcap single Melbourne. “That’s obviously one of the ‘girlfriend’ songs”, he explains, “but it’s also about wanting to be away from your familiar surroundings and comforts, especially when they sort of…. cease to be comfortable.” It’s been well documented that in the lead-up to making the album, bassist Stevie Plunder died in an apparent suicide after a long battle with drug addiction. The album’s Charlie trilogy deals with his loss. “It’s funny, because I made Eternal Nightcap as a very personal document but so many people really connected with it. There’s quite a bit of raw emotion going on there (the Charlie trilogy), but I think there’s also enough humour on the album to balance it out. Perhaps it’s black humour, but it’s in there.”



The recording costs of Eternal Nightcap were, by most standards, shoestring. “I remember I was recording so much at the time with my little 8-track, just setting up in the back room of my house. Some was even recorded in a Mexican restaurant in Sydney. It didn’t matter where I was I was putting ideas to tape while desperately trying to keep the recording costs down. I could tell you every bar, restaurant and room where those songs were recorded!” Great news, as it’s Tim’s memory I’m interested in today and his ability to get into the headspace required to write so concisely from the heart. “If you’re an observant sort of person then, I think that inevitably happens. Every song I have written reminds me of a very specific time in my life.” When it came time to record the third album, it was with an entirely new band. Guitarist Andy Lewis had bowed out to get married and Tim was still tender from the loss of Stevie. In a bitter-sweet irony, the flippant, rollicking single I Make Hamburgers (1995) was quickly becoming The Whitlams’ biggest hit so far. Not stopping to enjoy its success, Tim was already focusing on getting a new band together and some important realisations. “Eternal Nightcap was really about friendships. New friendships with the musicians who worked on that album and also, in the songs, remembering old friends who couldn’t be there with me anymore.”



At this point in our talk, Tim’s taxi arrives at his home and we’re suddenly out of the moment as he deals with paying the fair. “Should I call you back in say, an hour?” We hang up and I begin to worry that Tim feels he’s said enough already.

“I’m home and comfortable now, and I’m afraid you’re not going get anything much out of me now.” It’s been three hours since the cab ride and it’s a very pensive sounding Tim Freedman on the line. I offer in response that the best conversations always happen in the backs of taxis. “It’s just I never really do any work at home.” Tim starts easing back into chat mode, “I need to be away from whatever it is I’m writing about when I’m working. I happen to write a lot about the people and things around me, and so I have to just get away a lot.”



The Whitlam’s music does reference Australia specific themes quite a bit, a point that Tim livens up to. “It’s not any different to Paul Kelly singing about Melbourne and Sydney locations, or UK Squeeze singing about London in their cockney accents. They are just singing about their everyday lives and surroundings.” It’s inevitable that Tim would be sick of talking about THAT song, but I’m curious to know how he feels about No Aphrodisiac’s success, given the songs unusual context. “Well, I don’t think it’s very unusual in terms of every other indie rock band has a song about loss, despair or loneliness. The difference I suppose is our song was coming more from the idea of indulging loneliness, instead of feeling defeated by it.”



3 THINGS YOU MAY NOT KNOW ABOUT THE WHITLAMS:



* The famous pink Greyhound coach featured in Priscilla: Queen Of The Desert was The Whitlams actual tour bus!



* Pre-Whitlams Tim used to play keyboard on tour with legendary Sydney bands The Sunnyboys and The Hummingbirds.



* Tim is currently working on a solo album.

The Whitlams live in Melbourne, 2009

Eternal Nightcap 12th anniversary showcase gig - venue: The Corner Hotel

Bringing their most definitive album, Eternal Nightcap, to the stage twelve years on from its release, The Whitlams tonight are very unceremonious about the ARIA winning set. The run through of the songs in order as they appear on the disc, is barely ever broken by speech. Unusual, as in past shows, Tim Freedman was a man dedicated to building the stories around his songs and was a master of the 'set-up'. The only setting up tonight is a pre-concert uncorking of a bottle of Penfolds and four subsequent half-glass lashings by a roadie who carefully places each glass by the instruments. The opening of the wine sends a cheer throughout the room as we all anticipate the band's arrival. It does feel like a long wait looking at the four glasses of wine where musicians should be. Tim and the three guys who have been The Whitlams for around nine years now, finally arrive and settle in their places with a rehearsed swoosh on to the stage. A quick sip of wine, a raised eyebrow as Tim briefly considers his drop then straight into No Aphrodisiac. This song has evolved dramatically from a softly sung piano/strings monologue into a rock monster. The band pump it up, flesh it out and deliver it with a trowel full of riffing and wailing. It's good, although not very subtle and something of a rude shock, but then Tim did state that he wanted to 'reinterpret' some of the old songs on this tour.



The ever popular Buy Now Pay Later is awarded the biggest crowd reaction of the night, however the expected sing-a-long has become a little subdued since my last Whitlams show. It's only much later in the set when Tim is taking requests from the front rows that it becomes clear I Make Hamburgers is what's on everyone's list. Everyone except Tim that is, "Anybody who wants to hear THAT song can put it on their stereos at home". Perhaps he's embarrassed by it's whimsical, slightly dodgy lyrics? But then again next to Chunky Chunky Air Guitar it's a piece of songwriting genius. Thankfully the latter song doesn't make an appearance tonight either. Time, on the other hand, has been very kind to the romping You Sound Like Louis Burdett, the album's centerpiece. Live it is a fantastic shambles of hurridly changed chords and a building three layered chorus with Tim appearing to grab random lines out of thin air to keep this cheery drunken tale's momentum from ever slowing. This song, more than any other really sums up The Whitlams Eternal Nightcap period. It's a bit schitzo, the happy comes with a little slice of sad, but the joy juice isn't too far from reach. Although the same can't be said for Tim's bottle of Penfolds, which has taken a nose dive off the stool during Louis Burdett. It's as if the hard drinking characters in the lyrics have been made momentarily real and taken a vigorous lunge at the first thing that looks wet.

At this point I note the always smiling drummer, Terepai Richmond is Tim's wing man as they exchange mirthful glances at crucial points in the songs. Guitarist Jak Housden with his enormous fringe has the air of somebody who really wants to be the front man, and bassist Warwick Hornby remains fairly inanimate throughout, as most bass players tend to do. Because of the terrible acoustics in the Corner, it's a funny kind of racket they're making and I'm lead to conclude that most of the Whitlams songs don't really need full instrumentation at all. Half way through I'm really just wanting to hear Tim at the piano instead of another guitar solo. It has to be said, though that during the Pogues derivative, Band On Every Corner, the group really pull together and work through a swanky re-arrangement sans the pipes and whistles album version. With the full Eternal Nightcap album done with it's time for the 'requests' section (or the bit where people start calling out for songs that don't get played).



Starting the second bracket with the forgettable Fall For You single wasn't a great move and had more than a few people doing a bar run. They would have been better off going straight into Keep The Light On which is truly uplifting greatness. Personal favorite Made Me Hard was also a welcome but surprising addition, and opens a run of 'songs that really should've been hits' from The Whitlams catalogue. The gorgeous Fondness Makes The Heart Grow Absent and The Shining are criminally underrated, which I think is why Tim plays them with such ferocious passion (in the process exposing his slight ambivalence to a lot of the Eternal Nightcap songs). It makes sense; he's in a different place from when those often emotionally raw songs were made.



With only a little time left, it's becoming clear what to expect from the expected encore. Tim croaks into the mic after a short break; "We'll play a couple more and give the football fans time to get home so you don't all have to get on a train with them". I'm not so sure he's read the crowd too well, there seems to be a good deal of boof heads from where I'm standing, still it was a cheery moment. There's even more cheers for Blow Up The Pokies, which sounds exquisite tonight. Thank You (For Loving Me At My Worst) - the second best drinking song after Louis Burdett. And finally, Gough - the only possible choice to end a Whitlams gig on.





lEIGh5