Lists

So, As you may have picked up, I love music. I’m a member of a couple of groups (Bruce ones, admittedly) and at the moment my friends and fellow fans are talking top ten Bruce songs. Eventually they turn to me and say the words I dread to hear- “what’s your top ten” at which point I go into some kind of nervous sweat and start to mutter a lot about confusion and indecision and not really being able to decide or knowing what to say – now this is not dissimilar to my pick up technique, only there’s slightly less chance of me throwing up or saying “I understand” a la Peter Sellers in Being There at the end of it.

My point is that it’s a near impossible task I almost always refuse to partake in (yes, on both counts) because I can’t pick a top ten songs. It’s not going to happen. There are more than ten good ones. I can’t even pick a favourite album. I have somewhere between 3 and 5 favourite Bruce albums and I love them all for different reasons. I’m the same with U2.

It reminds me of a conversation I was having with some friends who were bemoaning going to see a band who hasn’t changed up their set list for a while. I simply asks what songs my friends want the band to get rid of, at which point in time confusion set in. You can’t get rid of this song or that one or that one. The problem with some bands is that they have too many good songs and in reference to this particular band, the solution is that they play longer (although I’m not quite sure how the band themselves feel about that)

Now without further adieu I have a top ten to try and construct. I’m going into a cave to hide for a bit. I can feel this will be another day of tea and nose bleeds. I love being me.

Peek a boo.

Where have I been? Well, hibernating, mostly. I do that from time to time. I did get to see The Inches again for the first time in far too long. It was a great night and I have the set list somewhere. I’ll dig into my brain space an come out with a review and some photos at some point. I guess this, combined with seeing old friends The Basics earlier this year has made me quite nostalgic. With that in mind, I realized recently that it’s coming up to ten years since I met my “uncle mike”, caught the live music bug and made most of the friends I have today as a result of that. So, what would I tell the weird little kid, about to wag school for the first and only time to get an education on the blues?

Everything you know is about to change.
You know nothing, Jon Snow. You think you know pain? Nope, you’re in for a lesson there. All those little rules you have will be abolished, trampled on or bent. Every. Single. One. All in the name of love and mostly in rural NSW. Maybe don’t leave Victoria?

Hate isn’t that strong of a word.
Take a good look at the music you hate now. U2? Ross Wilson? All of that will be flipped on its head in six months at least once.

Social awkwardness doesn’t end in high school.
That’s a myth, it just develops into something else entirely. Nervous nose bleeds? Forgetting your own name? Being so utterly terrified by beauty that you lose any grip once held on the English language? Look forward to all this and more.

Violence is not the answer.
But it is fun. Drums however are the answer. Keep going there.

Stop picking on bass players.
You’re about to become one.

Be nice to everyone you meet.
Take the time to say hi to them. The world is a small place. You never know when you might see them again.

And finally…..
Look to your left, look to your right, look to your left again.
There have been so very many times when you have missed something by focusing on one area. Try looking at the big picture. You never know what you might see.

My first hero

This may come as a surprise, but my heroes weren’t musicians growing up. Paul Hester was the exception to the rule (isn’t he always?) but most of my heroes when I was in primary school were sports people, the first of which was Ange Christou. This is where it gets a bit confusing.

I’m a St Kilda supporter (for those of you that follow AFL will know exactly what that means, for those that don’t, the words “always the bridesmaid” seem to come to mind. The last time St Kilda won the premiership, my mum was 6. We once lost three grand finals in a year – two in 8 days. That hurt) Ange played for Carlton. They don’t hate each other but they’re kind of opposites in every way. Carlton have a long, proud history is success and St Kilda? Well, see above. So, how come my very first sporting hero belonged to another team? A few reasons.

Firstly, as a footballer, he was just that good. He played a game on Sunday and kicked the ball half way across the field. Every time he got the ball you knew it would go exactly where it needed to. Ange didn’t make mistakes. I’m pretty sure he still doesn’t.

Also, he was always a gentleman. Still is. On Sunday he was taking photos with people and signing autographs between play. We were all standing in the rain together. You’d never hear about Ange being an idiot in the press. There was no news of him saying impolite things to women in bars (Wayne Carey I’m looking at you) and although he’d get involved in things like The Footy Show. He never seemed to forget what his first job was.

I first came across Ange at a football clinic when I was 8. This was before the days of mobile phones and slutty 16 year old girl scandals. From then on, I was in. The next year my slight interest in football had turned to something bordering on obsession. Carlton had won the Grand Final, Ange was a champion. Life was good.

I went to the football nearly every week, knew all the players names, played as often as I could and put every bit of my childhood energy to good use, chasing a bit of leather around a football field. Sport taught me determination and discipline and have me more than a few injuries.

After a few years of playing I have a back no one can touch without me wanting to rip their arms off and knees that are two different shapes. Was it worth it? Yep.

These days I apply that same discipline to my playing, to the time I spend in the gym and to other aspects of life. Of course, the great game has changed since I was running around. Now I’d prefer to see something like the Legends match I watched on Sunday. Ange was also the first person I knew who was a fan of U2. Is it any wonder I thought he was great?

Wonderland

“No, no, no. I don’t believe it” my friend said, hugging me as I poked my head out of hibernation this weekend. For some, it’s been longer than others. This weekend was definitely one of old friends. It started on Thursday when I went and saw my uncle Mike and the Spectrum lads do their thing. The second was Saturday when I saw Wired. I bumped into a couple of friends at each gig, too. It’s good to catch up with people.

So, what else have I been doing? Gym, mainly. I turned a friend into a joy division fan, so I’m a little impressed with myself. It’s one of the top ten things this girl wants to hear. “I watched Control and now I really like Joy Division”. It’s a sentence that is met with “Can I buy you a drink?” See kids, it really is that easy.

One myth I do want to dispel though is that it’s “always” the guitarist. No it’s not. Not for me any ways. For me it’s hardly ever the guitarist. Usually the first person I’ll notice in a band is the bass player. Some bands I will only go and see provided that they have the right bass player. It comes with my taste in music. Joy Division? Distinctive bass. U2? Hot bass player. I rest my case. I could quite easily follow U2 around aus just to watch their bass player. Having said that, though, it has been guitarists that have made the biggest impact on me personally, but in at least one case, I only went back to see the band because of the great bass player.

How’s my own music been going? I’ve been playing a little bit, I guess I’m just not in the mood and that’s okay. I get in the mood to play at odd times, when I have to go do other stuff. Can’t win. I’ll get there eventually. For now though, someone give me a cup of tea and some time in the gym.

One of the most attractive men on earth and why I hate the 80’s

I’m not saying it’s all bad. Some good stuff happened in the 80’s. Adam Clayton spent a lot of time without a shirt on, U2 in general were great, Springsteen was great too, but the bad stuff was just so bad.

I seem to have some kind of allergic reaction to the 80’s. My aversion to lead singers due to two different acts that made it big in the 80’s, one of whom still makes me want to projectile vomit at the mention of his name. There aren’t a lot of people I flat out refuse to tolerate, but that dude’s one of em!

My memories of attending 80’s nights are bad. The fashion was bad, the mullets were bad (Iva Davies, I’m looking at you!) The fact that my nose bleeds some times like it belongs on a coke addict’s face can be traced back to another 80’s band.

I really don’t like the 80’s too much, despite the fact that it was the era that gave me life. In fact, I know we can blame those dodgy 80’s nights for most of what I’ve just mentioned (except the nose bleeds, that’s a separate issue *- yeah, I’m defective. Surprised?) but most of the songs I now hate to the point that hearing them makes my skin want to crawl off my bones and hide under my bed can be traced back to a series of horrific 80’s themed nights that I had the misfortune of attending. I won’t link you to the songs here because I’m not that cruel, but I will say I don’t ever need to hear A Flock Of Seagulls or A Ha again. Ever.

The other thing about the 80’s is that it started with a lot of death. 1980 saw the death of Bon Scott, John Lennon and Ian Curtis and music would never be the same for it. It also, very obviously saw the death of the 70’s – a decade which is dear to my heart for so many reasons.

As I mentioned earlier though, it wasn’t all bad, which brings me to my song of the day. As you would now be aware, I have a bit of a giant soft spot for Adam Clayton. What can I say, really? He’s tall, he drinks tea, is smart as all get out and knows his way around a Fender. He’s a bit of a thinker and that pretty much ticks all the boxes for me, not to mention the fact that he happens to be really, really, ridiculously good looking. Who could have a problem with that?

I did, to begin with. I didn’t like U2 when I was growing up. My mum would play their music and I’d want her to turn it off. Eventually, though I came around. Now I play bass and I think that the delightfully talented Adam may have something to do with that.

Song Of The Day is Love And Peace Or Else. Although not from the 80’s I think you can all get the message, even if you were big in the 80’s.

*in all fairness, I probably can’t pin my nose bleeds on an 80’s band. It’s more an allergic reaction to over thinking. I think too much, my face leaks, but hey, I was listening to a lot of 80’s music when it started. It could be that too.

My Best Friend

By now you’ve probably figured out that my best friend from a very young age has always been my record player and I guess I was kinda reminded by that last night when someone mentioned Richard Berry. I thought to myself “ohhh yeah, I remember that 17 year old that got excited when someone else had heard of him. I guess I thought I’d found a kindred spirit. It felt like I was coming back to life. Maybe I was?

Fast forward a little bit and music still plays as big of a part in my days as it did then. It’s the great comforter, that one thing that makes me feel like someone understands. It’s always there, even when I’m asleep, I can be woken by a song in my head and then spend hours sleepless, questioning why the song is there and what it means. A song is the biggest insight I can give you into what I’m thinking – sometimes it’s the only insight.

I am a poor communicator – ironic, isn’t it? Give me a pen and paper and a guitar and I’ll tell you everything I’m thinking though. To contrast this, the most daunting thing I’ve ever been asked is what I was thinking or do I have any thing to say. No, of course I don’t, but give me a minute and I’ll write you a song with everything I’m feeling. Music has always been my greatest love, it’s entrenched in the make up of my DNA no less than the way that gender is determined by one tiny chromosome and maybe even more and some would say it’s determined by my parents attitudes just as much as they determined my genes.

As I sit back and listen to U2’s Beautiful Day I look out the window and smile. Yes, it is a beautiful day and I’ll see you soon.

Restlessness

So, it was pointed out to me last night that perhaps I should pull my finger out of my arse as do something and you know what? I probably should.

These past few days I feel had been wasted. The last week, really (well, since about Friday) -sure, I had a wedding to go to, but we let life get in the way so often. We use life as an excuse for living and I’ve had enough.
I have plans. Big ones. They’re massive and there are too many to count. I don’t have time to be sitting around doing nothing. As they said in How I Met Your Mother “if it’s not at least an 8, I’m not interested” (for the record, those with vague resemblance to Adam Clayton are a 9.5)

My plans or today include the gym, listening to some music for ideas and work. Told you I have plans. Ohhhh, and my drums.

Has any one seen Bruce Springsteen live at Storytellers? Whoa….. That DVD is at least an 8.5

Joy

I seem to be falling in love with music all over again. I spent last night youtubing different clips and I found some beauties. U2 and Bruce at Madison Square Gardens was amongst my favorite. I kinda wish you could buy YouTube clips so that you could download em, same way you can with iTunes. It would be kinda cool, like iTunes for video. Someone should get on to that.

Anyway, aside from Bruce and U2 I found (or was directed to) Bruce and John Fogerty which was great and I generally just enjoyed exploring. It’s always struck me – the way that music can change a mood. It can change the feeling in the room in a second. There is nothing better than walking into a shop/pub with a song that you love playing. It’s great.

There are certain songs that convey perfectly. Is This Love by Bob Marley is a perfect example. Higher and Higher by anyone who wants to sing it is another. These songs are perfect in every way.

The flip side of this of course is that music can change a room for the worse. Yesterday I heard I Want You by Elvis Costello and stood there with my head hung, like a naughty kid being told off by a parent. Maybe it’s because I have a personal connection with the song (have you heard it?) but still, it proves my point. That song makes me feel so horrible and more than a little guilty. Do I have anything to be guilty about? Nope, not a thing, but the tale of someone trying so desperately to get the attention of someone who looks through him to see someone else – well, you gotta feel at least a bit bad for the guy who has to stand there and watch the one he loves give their love to someone else.
It’s one of the most moving songs ever written, I recon. Like the movie Schindler’s List, it’s probably too moving to air most days.

Another one that falls into that category is Joy Division. I claim they should be listened to in small doses at best and right now, I don’t need any, thanks. I never thought I’d see a week where I walked into a store looking for Joy Division and walk out empty handed. I especially never thought I’d follow this with “nah, I don’t really need to listen to The Smiths” the next day. Either my music taste is changing, I’m in a really good mood or I’m becoming less of a hipster. Who knows? I’m having fun finding out though.

Btw, Bastille’s album Bad Blood is really good. You should buy it – because illegal downloads are bad, m’kay?

Peace On Earth

It’s funny, isn’t it? How one moment can change everything. I feel kinda like my life is exactly that, sometimes. A butterfly flaps it’s wings and all that. I met my best friend that way – several times in fact. A butterfly flapped it’s wings and when that poor butterfly got tired my friend started nagging me constantly to go to this guy’s gig. Eventually I did and well, nothing has been the same since.

Music has been a bit like that for me, too. I’ve had some extraordinary experiences. I was walking around lost and met Paul Hester, which started my love of drums. I went to see The Who because it “seemed like the right thing to do” and fell in love with electric guitars. I only went to Bruce Springsteen because I didn’t want my mum to go on her own. I fell in love with bass because of Adam Clayton. I fell in love with Adam Clayton because when I turned to my friend after the gig I had to be talked into and said “never ever, not in a million years, a month of Sundays ect (it’s actually a long speech, some of you may be familiar with it. This happens when the word “no” is not enough) I was wrong. A butterfly flapped it’s wings, apparently.

Anyway, my point is that I feel lucky. Sometimes we never know just what’s around the corner (although for me it’s either drums, bass, the gym or Bruce Springsteen)

Have a good day.

And finally, we get to this point.

There are many bands who have influenced me, but one of the biggest has to be the next band. It’s not just that their bass player is the closest thing I have to a massive celebrity crush or that they were the first big band I’ve seen in concert, but for one very important reason – to begin with, I hated em. It was t their fault.

You see, they were one of my friend’s favourite bands growing up. I wasn’t gonna get to see my friend any more and that hurt. The last thing I needed was the musical soundtrack to y pain being played on a weekly basis. My mum, oblivious to my 15 year old illogical reason for hating a band and everything they’d ever done, loved em and would play them on a weekly basis.

Eventually I learnt not to blame the band or their music any more and I grew to like them. As a young guitarist, I thought their guitar player did some pretty interesting things. I got to 22ish and showed my friend a photo of this guy I liked. She said “hey, you know who he looks like….and suddenly, their bass player became really really hot. If you’ve ever wondered whether the chicken came before egg, there’s your answer.

The band I am talking about is U2 and that bass player is Adam Clayton. We can probably thank Adam for me picking up a bass in the first place. He was just so cool. I had to be able to know how to do that. So I picked up a bass and away I went. It felt natural. It changed the way I listened to music. It also changed the way I looked at bass players, but that’s another story.

As a live act, U2 bring everything to the party – although I jokingly state that I don’t notice three quarters of it. The Edge is a sonic architect, layering sound on sound and always striving to get something new. Larry’s drum beat is like getting kicked up the arse (according to Bono) and Bono? Well, for a lot of people he’s the reason that they go to gigs. Every circus act needs a clown. (I say these things with love, really)

Musically, they always try for something different. There are one or two songs that I’d probably skip over, but there’s not a dud album. Some of them are growers, some are better than others, but there’s not one where I’d say “for the love of all things good turn that off” how could I? Worst comes to worst I could just grab the cover and look at Adam (who still needs a hair cut)