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My latest Indieoma.com post is an interview with Melbourne hipsters (or are they?) Dardanelles...

Once again, I've let personal posts lapse to the point where I've forgotten when I last posted one and what I said...

This week my column is something a little different, I've moved out of Indie Rock and it's a description of a demonstration of John Cage's Prepared Piano I saw during the Melbourne International Arts Festival, read it here.

A short and sweet interview with Ned Collette can be found here.

Firstly I wanted to share with you a recent experience of editing...

The latest instalment of my series, featuring Folk Music from the 70's onwards can be found <a href="https://www.indieoma.com/public_journal.php?d=d395771085aab05244a4fb8fd91bf4ee" target="_blank">here</a>

This week was another week where various elements kept pointing me towards a certain way of thinking, again, I'll just go through the week and ramble a bit...

According to a forthcoming research report to be issued by overseas student recruiter IDP Education, International Student demand in Australia will double in the next two decades with Universities struggling to meet the demand. Currently Overseas students comprise approximately 17% of the Australian student body with just over a quarter of those studying in Victoria, how much does and will this affect Victorian students?

I Heart Hiroshima are one of many Australian bands operating on independent labels who distribute through major companies (In their case MGM), funding releases from touring, merchandise and hopefully previous releases. It&rsquo;s a model that their label &lsquo;boss&rsquo; Paul Curtis believes is a template for the future, he&rsquo;s a man who&rsquo;s brain I intend to pick more of in the near future&hellip;

p>I&rsquo;m sure the booze and drug fuelled &ldquo;characters&rdquo; of Collingwood keep stealing CD&rsquo;s from my post box, as yet again I enter an interview with an artist who&rsquo;s album I never received. Never mind, it&rsquo;s making for interesting conversations as both parties struggle to make sense of each other and all the local Junkies are gaining a healthy and varied taste in music.

A compilation of rarities from a band I've never heard of, it seems one half of their permanent line up (Davey Lane) is something of an Australian institution, an institution that never made it past the Pacific Ocean, so I'm off the hook. The problem with rarities albums is that they will often only appeal to hardcore fans, generally being full of slightly dodgy tracks, cover versions and poor recordings, 'The Fantastic sound of the Picturesî contains examples of all of those (A Particular highlight is a cover of 'Mapsî by Yeah yeah yeahs that sounds like Primal Scream have replaced the band). It's a schizophrenic collection of songs, despite only spanning 5 years it sounds like a different band on each track, but I guess the rarities and b-sides of an artists are traditionally where they experiment and try something a little different. The sleeve notes accompanying the album are a fantastic insight into the songs and the band (especially for someone who knows nothing about them), demonstrating a warm and down to earth attitude with comments like '? We think it sucks toî and tales of financial woes, beer and recording session snacks. As the band would be more than likely to admit the album is not a fantastic collection of songs, more a mix of rough and smooth, a disc of memories and stories, but if you're a fan an invaluable and worthy addition to your collection.

A folk hero belonging truly to the old school, Carus has chalked up an average of 200 shows annually over the past few years and still found the time to release several albums, 'Three Boxesî being his third. It's mellow and laid back but brimming with passion, dedication and earnest emotion, the lyrics are tales of his experiences and life on the road, containing equal elements of regret and happiness with his lifestyle, the excitement and the loneliness. A beautiful album that can be listened to time and time again, it doesn't drag, it doesn't need to be turned off halfway through, it sits in the background and makes your workplace peaceful and it sits in the foreground and inspires, a perfect album.

The biggest surprise is that The Exploders are a two-piece, how on earth do they recreate guitar, bass, drums, keys and vocals live? ìEasy and the Sunî starts very well, mellow Ozzie rock, well played and crafted, but a majority of the tracks are much too long for a commercially viable pop rock album and about half way through things start to drag somewhat, the guitar sound, vocal delivery and pace of songs falling into something of a rut, never changing or varying (apart from the final song, which is a beautiful acoustic ballad), leaving the listener yearning for a break, unless you're getting stoned, I should imagine this is the perfect sonic accompaniment for such an evening, nothing too shocking or surprising. That said the album is a cut above a lot of other ìAustralian Rockî albums, there's not too much guitar wank, solos kept to a bluesy, basic and heartfelt minimum, it treads over familiar ground whilst keeping the path accessible and open to new wanderers. Perhaps this is the overall problem with The Exploders, possibly somewhere along the way the band decided to make their blend of rock lighter, becoming commercially more viable but losing their edge, ending up stuck in a rock limbo.

It&#39;s taken me a long time to get round to writing this review, I&#39;ve kept putting it off, not due to a dislike of the album, but because for the first time since I&#39;ve arrived on the shores of Australia I&#39;ve found an artist who clicks with something inside of me and putting that into words is a tough and daunting prospect. I&#39;ve not found an artist or album like this since Frank Turner&#39;s &quot;Sleep is for the Week&quot;, an album full of disillusionment with life past, present and future, that lyrically and musically describe almost precisely how I felt at that exact moment. Ben&#39;s mixture of troubadour-esque acoustic stories and laid back rock led by crunchy electric guitar and organ ring true in my ears, a sure sign of my ever maturing musical tastes, no longer impressed by loud guitars and shouting. It may not connect with me so much on a lyrical level, being primarily tales of lamented loves, but that same feeling of mistakes, possible regrets, lessons learned and a new optimistic outlook on life is as equally present as Frank Turner&#39;s offering, perhaps I identify with that feeling and process in life, no matter if the situations or motivations differ. But enough of comparisons, what of &quot;Last Ditch Brigade&quot;? It&#39;s an album full of finely crafted arrangements and instrumentation demonstrating a song writing ability far beyond Ben&#39;s years, the songs would be equally at home on a fashionable Indie Kids&#39; CD shelf as well as their parents&#39;, successfully creating an album that manages to transcend genres, fashions and age groups, simply producing a damn fine album, no pretension, no filler, full to the seams with brilliant songs.

This could be a long post...

Angus Tarnawsky and Bill Forshaw, the drums and guitar of Bachelor of Arts respectively are leading me down successive Laneways in search of dinner. Angus, tall, assuming and confident hasn't stopped talking to me and the random strangers who approach us since meeting in the venue ten minutes ago. Bill, quiet, shy and unassuming, looks bewildered by the situation, like he's more than used to it happening, but that it never ceases to amaze him.<br><br>Settling on Thai, we discussed Australia, music and life whilst a waiter kept informing us of the 'rulesî of ordering like we were ensconced in an Orwellian nightmare.<br><br>So did how the band form and why?<br>'We didn't have Girlfriends!î Bill quips.<br>Angus continues, 'We were in High School in tiny Launceston, where there's not a lot else to do, we had access to a studio, so just recorded things. As a drummer, there wasn't much melodic stuff I could write except overly melodramatic material, Bill ended up writing songs that I really liked, more than mine. We played a few short sets locally, and then it came to our first proper gig in town at a local pub that had an originals night one night a week?î<br><br>'Hey Bill you recap the 'Irish Murphy's story'î<br><br>'We turned up and tried to work the PA, we couldn't hear anything, so kept turning it up. At the time we were only a two-piece, using computers and samplers. The venue kept complaining, there are too many beats, we don't understand the lyrics, this isn't generic rock! The crowd didn't get it and the venue asked us to stop playing, informing us that we wouldn't be paid as people left during the set and they actually lost moneyî<br><br>After moving to Melbourne the band expanded to a three piece about a year ago adding Kevin McDowell on Bass and the band attempted to recreate and adapt their electro sound with the new three-piece line up. Some old songs were dropped and new ones written, parts were dropped and arrangements changed, i.e. swirling synths replaced with vocal harmonies.<br><br>As we are hit by a rogue grain of rice flying through the air from the direction of a gang of drunken revellers, Bachelor of Arts explain to me how the music scene in Australia works and how they fit into it.<br>'It's all about friends, you make friends, you get onto the right bills at the right venues (for you) by getting to know people and setting up networks around the country. We've made some horrendous errors in judgement over the past few months, but now we're getting to know who to trust.<br>When we were younger we thought you could only book shows only in venues, but we've realised that it's about the people involved with things, not necessarily the place, so sometimes gigs in Art spaces, galleries, Warehouses and the like can be more enjoyable and beneficial. Sometime bands in smaller venues can end up paying to play, as they have to cover costs (Soundmen etc.), you play a gig and you're $50 down.î<br><br>I'm sure you've been asked this many times, but where does the name come from?<br>'Ah, well, there's a variety of reasons, I'm Bill, he's Angus, B and A.î<br><br>What about the 'O', your bassist is called Kevin.<br><br>'Hmm, well it's also because we realised we were destined to become Bachelors of Arts.î<br><br>'We just discovered a plethora of wonderful conspiracy theories that related back to the same name, I just can't quite remember what that all were.î<br><br>It's Saturday night; there are 101 bands out in Melbourne playing tonight, why should someone part with their hard earned cash to see Bachelor of Arts?<br>Well, we don't really have a solid reason, we'd rather people came and saw us because they want to. In fact, it's a great line up tonight, come for the other bands instead!<br>

Let's talk about loop pedals. These little boxes of tricks are popping up everywhere at the moment, giving musicians the capability of layering tracks of instrument loops to produce a texture of complex harmonies, great in theory, but becoming a little tired. Pikelet is the Mistress of such gadgets, not only layering sounds but manipulating them on the fly, speeding them up, slowing them down, for example, using her voice to create a cello like sound. The problem is that due to the fundamental definition of a loop, i.e. something that repeats, songs end up all being rather similar, with no real structure, just building pieces that grow dynamically and then stop, with very few verses, choruses, key changes etc. Despite this Pikelet does a very good job of engaging the audience at Manchester Lane, her hypnotic compositions and lilting voice lulling everyone into her own little world and then bringing them screeching back into the real world with her rather dry and even mildly patronising inter song banter.

Landing the opening slot is a daunting and unenviable task for any band, doubly so when you're an acoustic act at a rock gig, you have to work extremely hard to even get the audience to acknowledge your existence, let alone actually listen to you. Sacha Ion's unique voice with its equal measures of vibrato, warble, screech and heart-felt gentility performs a good job of gaining the interests of at least some of the small crowd slowly building at Ding Dong tonight; she earns respect and hopefully some fans.For a debut gig, Nights at the Abattoir are brimming with confidence, ability and great songs, their peculiar blend of Gothic Glam rapidly winning over the hearts and feet of the audience. Aside from the incredibly bubbly (and possibly drunk) keyboard player and the dapper vocalist, the bands guitarist seems to be in a world of his own, the stage lighting even marking him out differently. Discordantly soloing over everything or indulgently descending into messy sonic pools of layered effects, most of the time it doesn't really work or sit well over the good fun and straight forward gutsy stomp of the rest of the band, but at times he finds his own moments of genius, pulling out a solo or lick that compliments the song beautifully.Schvendes take to the stage ably assisted by a sound man who seems to accompany just about every medium sized WA band, and short of a few early technical problems work together to produce a set where you hear every breath, every cello string bowed, every delicate bass note and ringing guitar chord. A mesmerising set ensues, Schvendes are a band that doesn't have to do or say a lot between songs, and in fact they're best staying silent to savour the adoring silence of the audience as they are absorbed in the show. Perhaps an occasional change of pace would be welcome; emotional lifts are needed at some points in the set as the dour melancholic material can sometimes be a little too much. However the set ends on a high note, so just as it's time to leave the audience and send them home, the band ensure that your memory of the night is generally a happy one.

There are a lot of young bands like Karate Party, some nice songs, with a few interesting riffs and melodies lurking within them, but the two piece line up of keyboards and drums lacks the drive needed to get them across. Jo and Cat's intersong banter is also irritatingly fey, causing a few cringes, however as the set nears it's conclusion the girls seem to be getting it together and the songs are having more impact, perhaps a few more live shows and rehearsals are needed?Bitchslap and their fuzzy Grunge Punk on the other hand are as tight as Jon Bon Jovi's trousers. Wonderfully thick guitar tones, bass lines and drum beats coming through crisp and crystal clear. Jess Coram, resplendent in regulation black with a severe haircut that looks just so right for the night, delivers sullen lyrics with aggression and panache. She barely acknowledges the audience between songs but still possesses and emits a certain confidence and charm whilst spitting lyrics about misery and oppression. Equally competent on guitar she rips out simple but blistering lead lines as well as chunky rhythm, treating her guitar like an old friend that you're not quite sure if she still likes. Liz on bass constantly conjures the perfect accompaniment, expertly interplaying with the guitar; the arrangements of songs seemingly planned for maximum effectiveness, unyet making it all look so easy.Scott at the back on drums may look a little out of place (with the additional role tonight of being the sole male on the entire line up, a role he may be quite used to) but he doesn't show it, providing a similarly solid backing to the girls up front.The material and it's content is far from cheery and some might say it's even a little melodramatic at times, but it's heartfelt, the motivations and passions behind it are real and genuine. You may not sympathise, comprehend or understand the band or their aggravations, but if you're in the same room as Bitchslap, you will most certainly notice and hear them.

It's a busy weekend for all age's shows and there is something very strange about attending gigs where there's no alcohol, not even on stage. Tonight all the adults keep dashing to the pub over the road between bands bewildering and frustrating the sole bar man who seems annoyed that his (obviously) usual quiet Saturday night is being disturbed. Meanwhile the kids do what they always do on a Saturday night and illicitly sip cans of cheap booze on municipal steps and get in the way, oh happy days!<br><br>The Stabs are in an odd mood tonight, jovial and even slightly cheeky. Offsetting their intense and discordant guitar duelling with some frankly bizarre and confusing dialogue in-between songs. It's hard to describe The Stabs music as tuneful or particularly catchy but it's certainly 'interesting'. NinetyNine are performing as a duo tonight, stripping down their usually complexly arranged songs to drums, vocals and a keyboard or guitar. Cameron Potts is his usual flamboyant and enthralling self on drums, rather dominating the set, vocals and other instruments struggling to be heard over the shear volume he produces. The other instruments normally present are missed, the songs work without them, but not as well, Laura Macfarlane even looks a little confused and overwhelmed at times, almost like the songs are new to her, perhaps in this format they are. Melbourne has a habit of producing many bands like Love of Diagrams, bands that seem to forsake performance, enjoyment and acknowledging the audience to produce the fussiest, most technical sound possible. The band are overly fussy tonight, complaining about sound and fiddling with pedals throughout most of the set, which (especially if this is the only audience interaction) is incredibly annoying. Maybe the band are having a bad gig, but everything's a bit flat, the band aren't especially tight and the audience are getting fidgety, with only a group of over zealous sixteen year olds seeming to get anything out of the music. Granted that this over technical style of rock is popular in Melbourne but if you're forsaking performance for tightness, then you have to be tight, and this is where My Disco and their greater experience of playing live come into play. They possess a similar angular sound, heavily influenced by New Wave but far more planned and thought out, counter rhythms and melodies carefully arranged and tested, but these guys actually put on a show, they acknowledge the audience, they talk to them, they thank them for coming along. They realise that it's an audience and a band's interaction with them that makes a night a good night, it's a fundamental, and lets not forget it.

All Ages gigs are tough; everyone claims there are not enough taking place and not enough opportunities for under 18's to attend live music. Unyet when an organisation goes to lengths to organise an all ages show with a strong line up at a prestigious and large venue, attendance is a little disappointing. Why is this? Perhaps running an all ages show in the evening is too late for some parents to allow their children to attend. Perhaps the lack of alcohol dissuades over eighteens attending, which if true, is a sad fact, that a vast majority of people are only attending gigs to get drunk, not for the music. Whatever the reasons, the audience is small tonight, slowly building but never filling the large, spacious and regal Collingwood Town Hall.

It seemed appropriate to group these two shows together as my last experience of both bands was about two years ago as they were enjoying a rapid rise in popularity, success and hype. Two years ago both bands were still learning their craft, their showmanship and the ropes, so now after two years on the road and two albums each, how do they compare?

The feelings of frustration and slight depression abated this week, maybe it was a lunar thing, there was an eclipse here last week, and maybe a seasonal thing, who knows...

The gaps between my personal posts gets longer and longer, I'm going to try and take more time to do a few more things that I want to do over the coming weeks and months, been spending far too much time doing things for work or to achieve something, and not enough frivolous fun, so here's a blog post about not a lot in particular...

Politics in Folk music, part 1...

It's been a while, I've moved countries, got a new band together, got my feet under the table and now it's time to tell everyone what's been going on.

Eddie Current Suppression Ring (Henceforth ECSR or this review will go on for ever) do things their own way. Despite rising to the heady heights of 'buzz band' status, they book their own gigs, promote their own gigs, manage themselves and still find the time to write some damn good material. Roxanne's is packed tonight with a crowd biting at the bit and raring to go, Dead Farmers, resplendent in checked lumberjack shirts (Grunge dead? Never!) Don't quite seem to ever get going, stopping and starting and making adjustments to gear and when they're finally getting into the swing of things and the set is beginning to take form and take shape, they have to finish. However the crowd are up for anything that's thrown at them and love it.<br>After a brief changeover with the room and the crowd bustling ECSR take to the stage with an unceremonious and unassuming manner, just sort of slowly appearing there and starting as opposed to any great entry. No sooner have they emitted the first note of the first song does the crowd starts jumping, dancing, smiling and flying about the room, eventually some security appear, and as usual for venues such as Roxanne's, don't really know what to do apart from stand there and look imposing, but no one cares anyway. Brendan Suppression (vocals) paces the stage in a pair of curious fingerless black gloves, looking almost awkward to be there, Eddy Current on guitar just sort of hovers on stage looking equally out of place thwacking out jangly, garage riffs over Rob Solid's massive bass sound and Danny Current's frantic drumming. It doesn't make any sense, ECSR are a great band, but the music isn't that fast and danceable, at times it's even a little slow, unyet the crowd go wild for the band's entire set, never relenting. The band look somewhat uncomfortable on stage, rarely making eye contact with the crowd and even discouraging them from becoming too raucous, but the crowd is hanging off their every word and action, ready to fly off into a frenzy at any given moment. How do the band do it? Do they even know themselves? ECSR are a band for the rejects and the outsiders of the music scene who have somehow managed to trick the cool kids into thinking that they're part of them, they don't look right, they shouldn't be, but are, the best sort of Rock stars.

Gym Class Heroes are perhaps one of the oddest, biggest bundle of contradictions, confusions and concerns you may ever witness in a music venue, which is a bold statement considering how screwed up a lot of Hip Hop generally is. The 'backing band' is a bunch of highly proficient musicians with very decent equipment, which always smacks of 'manufactured' session musicians, despite what the bands biography might tell you. Travis on vocals bounds around the stage attempting to perfect a sort of cutesy little boy lost image, whilst simultaneously churning out lyrics about women and how much he wants to have 'relations' with them. This same desire also applies to the female members of the audience, bearing in mind that most of the audience are under 18, you can't help but feel that encouraging them to all make out with each other (and him) is slightly in bad taste. He also goes out of his way to inform the audience that a song containing the lyrics 'Glamorous White Girlî and 'Razorî is not about an (rumoured) addiction to Cocaine, but an addiction to music. Frankly the whole set up is all a little perverse, but the kids love the big marketing machine behind the band and aimed squarely at them, infiltrating their media sources and ways of thinking (i.e. MySpace, the band have a song called 'Friend Requestî), whooping in the right places, dancing throughout and playing along with all the bizarre and vaguely obscene games thrown at them, e.g. 'Hands up who's not here with their Boyfriends?î receives a worrying response.<br>The music is generally in the minor key so prevalent in modern Hip Hop, giving the songs that slightly sinister and ominous feel that again contrasts with the lyrical content, creating yet another concerning contradiction. However the music isn't bad, the songs are funky, tight and live which is a nice novelty in the genre, providing a good solid musical bed for the lyrical tomfoolery and for the kids in their best frocks and oversized tracksuits to shake their booties to, hopefully without quite thinking about why they are.

It's always hard to review one track single samplers, especially if you like what you hear and want to hear more! 'City Walls and Empiresî is a jaunty and radio friendly ditty, the 9 members of the band creating a complex interweaving of melodies and counter melodies, complete with a rousing unison of vocals in the chorus. Radio friendly, upbeat, a good tune, what more could you want from a single?

Jeff describe his music as 'City and Westernî which is the best description for the genre of Americana tinged mellow rock that Jeff Strong purveys, so I'm going to stick with it and probably borrow the phrase, if he doesn't mind. The album is home recorded with a lovely warm and familiar feel, which suits Jeff's, comforting and gentle voice down to the ground. Some tracks are pure Jeff, strumming his acoustic guitar, others feature additional instrumentation, and all ten tracks are calming influences on a crazy modern world.