Nick Cave’s notebook, now on display in
the Australian Music Vault. Dan Magree
The Australian Music Vault launched this week in Melbourne, with music industry stalwarts and Vault patrons Molly Meldrum, Archie Roach, Kylie Minogue, Michael Gudinski and new addition Tina Arena on hand for the festivities. The Vault is a dedicated space at the Performing Arts Centre that will house a “free permanent exhibition, digital and interactive experiences and an extensive learning program”, according to a press release.
This first iteration of the Vault contains an impressive array of artefacts that cover a range of genres and eras from Australia’s popular music history. These include Chrissy Amphlett’s schoolgirl tunic, Dami Im’s gown from her Eurovision performance (a personal highlight), notebooks and lyric sheets from artists such as Nick Cave and Wendy Saddington, and footage from the Sunbury festival. Interactive elements in the exhibition space allow visitors to access archival footage and, of course, hear the music that is being celebrated.
But what does it mean that such an institution is being launched in Australia now?
Museums and other bodies that catalogue and tell the story of the past perform important identity-forming functions. They tell us who we are, where we have come from and what is deemed to be historically important.
For a long time, popular music – and popular culture more generally – was left out of such stories. It was regarded as overly commercialised, disposable, and not worthy of the same type of preservation and celebration that other forms of art were accorded.
Over time, however, as musical forms such as rock proved more durable and long-lasting than initially anticipated, and as their young audiences grew up, the incorporation of popular music into once “high brow” cultural institutions started to become more common.
This trend has increased as cities such as Liverpool have demonstrated the economic worth of promoting popular music history as a tourist attraction, and as travelling exhibitions such as Bowie Is have become blockbusters. There are now many dedicated institutions that celebrate popular music’s history, including the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland and the Museum of Pop in Seattle.
In Australia, the path towards the Vault has taken longer than in some other places. This is partly to do with the way debate about popular music’s worth has also been tied up with tricky questions of national identity, with the local industry long struggling to find a unique way to translate music with its roots so strongly in North America and the UK. Popular music has been, at various points, a way of connecting to the “motherland” through bands like the Beatles, or as a flashpoint for debates about the Americanisation of Australian culture.
For a long time, the touchstone of success for Australian musicians was to make it overseas, and to be accepted on the terms that these markets and audiences set. Such success did indeed eventuate for acts like the Seekers, The Easybeats, Olivia Newton John, AC/DC, INXS and Kylie Minogue.
Kylie Minogue’s first hit The Locomotion: for a long time, the touchstone of
success for Australian artists was making it overseas.
But well into the 1990s the question remained: what is it that defines Australian popular music? Is there even such a thing as an Australian sound? Or do we just produce imitations of what we hear from other places?
This is a question that the Australian Music Vault tackles head on throughout its exhibitions. Visitors are explicitly asked to listen for what it is that might give Australian music a distinctive quality. It is a question that also becomes easier to answer when looking at the local scenes and national touring circuits that have developed over time.
As a maturing industry and growing population made it more feasible to have a career making music in this country without feeling compelled to make the move overseas, more and more music emerged that spoke to local identities and concerns. Australian accents have become more discernible and songs more likely to reference Australian places and issues. Artists such as Midnight Oil and Courtney Barnett have shown that putting “Australianness” on display is not necessarily a liability on the international stage.
Courtney Barnett’s Depreston has taken the local vernacular internationally.
Speakers at the launch of the Vault noted that it seems overdue for us to have a space that celebrates the achievements of Australian musicians. The Vault exists partly because popular music has undeniably helped shape how we think about ourselves as a nation, and how we represent ourselves to the world.
This will always be an imperfect project; it is extraordinary, for instance, that in the search for an “Australian sound” the voices and musics of the original inhabitants of this continent have been so infrequently included.
The curators of the Vault have clearly considered these issues of inclusion. This first round of exhibits includes a number of Indigenous performers including Yothu Yindi and No Fixed Address, as well as Roach, and there is a strong representation of women artists such as Amphlett, Little Patti, Judith Durham and Ngaiire.
In doing this, they show that the institution has the potential to reframe as well as celebrate our relationship to this music, and to move us past the pub rock canon often put forward as the defining sound of Australia.
This article was written by:
Catherine Strong – [Senior Lecturer, Music Industry, RMIT University]
This article is part of a syndicated news program via
The Rolling Stones performing in Hamburg during
the ‘No Filter’ European tour: the band’s legacy is entwined with the
pioneers of black American music. Morris Mac Matzen/Reuters
Everything old is new again. Today the Rolling Stones release On Air, a collection of much-bootlegged BBC live studio broadcasts taped for a variety of programs between 1963 and 1965. The remastered set provides a rare glimpse of the young musicians playing to order the songs that defined their early hybrid sound and telegraphed – much like The Beatles – their love for African-American music.
The recently restored archival recordings map their transition from astute performers of seminal black American blues and roots music to legitimate codifiers of its (mostly white) bastard offspring. From I Can’t Be Satisfied to (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction, from Route 66 to 2120 South Michigan Avenue. Full circle, full steam ahead.
The release of these archival recordings, following on from last year’s bristling Blue & Lonesome set and the recent nostalgia-laden #NoFilter tour are a reminder of how entwined the band’s legacy is with the pioneers of black American music. From their Delta roots to their electric spirit animal offspring – Chicago and West Coast blues, Stax and Motown soul and early Sun and Chess rock ‘n roll – the old masters had cast a wicked spell over the young lads from Dartford. This, of course, is in stark contrast to the saccharine radio programming Mick Jagger and Keith Richards had grown up with in the 1950s in which appropriating another person’s culture and creative output had turned an artistic endeavour into a form of soft-manufacturing.
Then here come Pat Boone. The white kids wanted mine, ’cause it was real rough and raw, and Pat Boone had this smooth version. And so, the white kids would take mine and put it in the drawer and put his on top of the dresser. I was mad. When Pat Boone covered my record, I was mad, I wanted to get him. I said, ‘I’m goin’ to Nashville to find him’.
Cultural appropriation in a musical context doesn’t have to be at the exclusion of the original artist or the culture from which they carved their path. Pinching musical phrases and stylistic approaches – when done thoughtfully and with a desire to connect with the original work’s unique properties – has always been a part of the art making process.
And yet, as artists like the Stones and the Beatles have demonstrated, it should not be a closed circuit. It should manifest itself as a social and artistic conversation across languages, across media, and across generations – a form of cultural exchange. Although, as Keith Richards discovered when working with Chuck Berry in the late 1980s, getting it right ain’t always easy. There is inevitably a price to pay, and Richards more than anyone knows the score. For every lift, there is a link to the past – a debt owed and a palm to grease. With every lick comes a nod and a cheeky wink.
A medium of social exchange
The production of culture is very much informed by the technology that enables it. The Philadelphia and New York disco movement, for instance, were as much a technological evolution as a dance floor phenomena. Legendary DJs such as Frankie Knuckles and Larry Levan would isolate, cut, loop and layer sounds using reel-to-reel tapes to create extended remixes to maximise a track’s dancefloor credentials.
In much the same way, hip hop culture helped facilitate the emergence of the remix as a technological act via turntablism, scratching and later sampling. Inevitably, pinching the break or the intro or a signature moment and re-purposing it would evolve into an art form. By dropping musical fragments into new material arrangements, disco and hip-hop DJs from the Bay to the Island devised an accessible production methodology that would translate seamlessly into the post-analogue world.
The digital remix not only accelerated modes of cultural exchange but made possible an almost infinite splintering of sub genres and associated sub cultures. What makes hip hop culture so important – and this is analogous to the Stones – is that in the beginning, DJs like DJ Kool Herc borrowed from music that was not only underrepresented on mainstream radio, but was made by revered funk and soul artists – the so called “the sacred crates. Kool Herc championed records by James Brown, The Jimmy Castor Bunch, Cymande (UK), The Incredible Bongo Band and Baby Huey & The Babysitters.
Music is also a medium of social exchange, we can see (and hear) this in the evolution of not only disco and hip hop but also in Jamaican sound system culture of the 1950s. Sound clashes were inherently socio-political events organised as mass gatherings around big speakers and big sounds and big ideas. In essence, a sound clash was a competition between sound system crews who marshalled speaker stacks, often on the back of trucks, spinning imported American R&B records and later dub plates of exclusive Ska and Rocksteadymixes. It was sonic warfare. DJs and MCs – like Count Machuki and Clement “Coxsone” Dodd – became local superstars who cultivated their own sounds. From Jamaican Sound System culture we can mark the emergence of brand new sonic techniques like scratching (Lee “Scratch” Perry), beat boxing (Machuki), the break (Kool Herc) and the remix (King Tubby).
These musical innovations became statements of Caribbean identity. Like African and Cuban rhythms that migrated to the Americas, these sounds became migratory too, travelling with West Indian migrants to the UK, leaking into the sonic palette of predominately white groups such as Madness, The Pretenders, The Specials, The Police and of course The Clash. These would later mutate into more distilled contemporary forms such as Dub, Jungle and Drum & Bass.
A cultural awakening
The release of On Air by the Rolling Stones is indicative of a recurrent theme of the group not only appropriating African American musical stylings, lyrical patterns and performative techniques but pointing audiences to the source. Whether it be in the mimicry of Chuck Berry guitar phrases, the jungle rhythms of Bo Diddley, the vocal mannerisms of Jimmy Reed or the lyrical misogyny of Sonny Boy Williamson, the band has always worn its passion for the source material like a badge of honour.
The Stones’ breakout tours of the US and Europe (1967-72) are indicative of this dogged commitment to the form. They stacked their support act packages with African American artists such as Taj Mahal (1968), Ike and Tina Turner (upon whom Jagger is rumoured to have based his raunchy stage persona), BB King (1969), Buddy Guy (1970), and Stevie Wonder (1972). As Guy remarked recently
They were bigger than bubble-gum … when they came to America, they recognized some of the greatest musicians that I had admired – Ike and Tina Turner, Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf – and let America know who we were. They let white America know what the blues is. We owe those guys all the thanks in the world.
The American tours of the early 1970s took place in a politically charged atmosphere of racial division, sexual awakening and inter-generational conflict. A time when white American audiences were still reconciling with the notion that culture was a form of identification, of exchange, a mode of storytelling rooted in race, identity, faith, sex and – after Dylan via Guthrie – politics.
It was also a period of cultural awakening, as a rich lineage of African American music – which had given the world fiercely original artists such as Robert Johnson, Billy Holiday, John Coltrane, Miles Davis and Chuck Berry – was now being commodified for new audiences by a new industry and a new genre of musical expression.
An open source ‘cookbook of rock’
The musical tool kit the latter artists laid bare – open tunings, a swinging back-beat, bending notes, long form improvisation, call and response, vocal phrasings, urban storytelling, spiritual empowerment, stage theatrics and of course overt sexual bravado were all mutated into this musical progression.
Bands like the Stones, The Animals, Fleetwood Mac, Cream and later Led Zeppelin, The Allman Brothers Band and the Grateful Dead appropriated many of these elements to design an open source Cookbook of Rock – flexible enough that it would facilitate decades of experimentation and manipulation, yet well-enough defined so that it would require devotion and authenticity to pull off a lick with your chops and dignity still intact.
Bo Diddley, the original “guitar slinger” – and by his own admission, “the man” – was one of rock and roll’s true technical innovators who has a very different take on this.
Speaking to the New York Times in 2003, he made it quite clear who were the beneficiaries of this process: “I opened the door for a lot of people, and they just ran through and left me holding the knob”.
We have seen recently – from bindis at Coachella to American Indian regalia at Burning Man – how racial and cultural forms have been commodified and trashed as fashion accessories to serve bizarre notions of connectedness, freedom and belonging. Most prominently, this is exploited by art directors and marketing departments to window dress pop music by highly visible major label music acts who probably should know better in the Twenty-Teens.
Indian and Hindu culture gets the full treatment in the ethno-confused art direction of Coldplay and Beyoncé’s promo clip for the song, Hymn for the Weekend, that portrays Indian stereotypes – like “levitating gurus, slum dogs, and throwing coloured powder” – in a manner that, according to Rashmee Kumar, stifles critical thinking about India’s social and political climate.
Coldplay’s video romanticizes Hinduism to further exoticize India as a westerners’ paradise unsullied by harsh realities.
Epitomising this trend is John Mayer’s video clip, Still Feel Like Your Man, a musical performance he confusingly labels “disco dojo” and “ancient Japanese R&B”. Although the clip is emblematic of this creative clumsiness by major artists, the music press at the time went along for the ride. Rolling Stone magazine called the clip “colourful” while Billboardmagazine repeated Mayer’s mixed Japanese metaphor, adding that the Mister Whitmore directed clip is “decorated with kimonos, dancers in panda bear costumes, swordfighting and bamboo trees” despite the obvious contradiction that Panda bears are traditionally from China.
Music journalist Touré cuts to the chase saying Mayer is “not racist, he is dumb on race”. In just one tweet Touré calls out Mayer’s ill-informed approach to not only the video’s production design but even the song’s origins, which evidently have more to do with Katy Perry’s old shampoo bottles than the origins of global Asian culture. The West’s colonial view of the East however has always been perverted, as Malek Alloula wrote in The Colonial Harem back in 1981, the Orient
has fascinated and disturbed Europe for a long time. It has been its glittering imaginary and its mirage.
Pop culture is the messiness between the concentric orbits of personal identity and collective history. When appropriation is done well, with a quest for knowledge or to seek out an emotional core or a narrative truth, this messiness can create new meanings and new partnerships. It might even construct new narratives and spawn new beginnings.
When it is done in an ill-informed, shallow, tokenistic manner, it only serves to perpetuate tired yet stubbornly persistent colonial, racial and patriarchal stereotypes.
An informed practitioner
Jagger and Richards are not alone in their quest for authenticity and musical integrity. Many productive relationships were forged between African American musicians and their British disciples in the Sixties. Studious artists such as The Beatles, Eric Burdon, Ray Davies, Eric Clapton, John Mayall and Peter Green well understood the burden of institutional oppression and the insult of segregation that framed the Blues narrative. Eric Clapton in particular, when not flirting with radio schmaltz, has spent a large part of his career trying to perfect the performance stylings and musical arrangements of artists such as Freddy King, Robert Johnson and Lowell Fulson.
Listen for instance to Clapton’s extraordinary vocal performance and brutal guitar playing on his late career electric blues covers album From the Cradle.
In the swinging London of the Sixties, Clapton’s chariot swung low, he understood better than anyone the importance of cultural exchange – of being in the moment, of finding the sound, of going deep. For Clapton, the moment had to be real. He devised his own version of the power-trio band format after seeing the Buddy Guy trio tear up a club in London in 1965.
A year later, at the Regent Street Polytechnic, the roles were reversed when he witnessed the Hendrix phenomena first hand. At the bequest of manager Chas Chandler, Hendrix was invited to jam with Clapton’s new outfit, The Cream. However, Hendrix’s incendiary version of Killing Floor shocked Clapton so completely that he retreated backstage, later confronting Chandler with the immortal line: “You never told me he was that fucking good.”
Clapton was knowledgeable enough, however, to understand the lineage back to Buddy Guy and to Otis Rush and the rarefied realm within which these artists operated. Like Clapton before him, Hendrix’s brief London period was very much about research and experimentation. He grabbed what he could – sounds, rooms, gadgets, people, the air itself – to create the colours he saw in his head and by doing so blowing everyone’s mind in the process.
a magpie. He would take from blues, jazz – only Coltrane could play in that way – and Dylan was the greatest influence. But he’d listen to Mozart, he’d read sci-fi and Asimov and it would all go through his head and come out as Jimi Hendrix.
Today, if Hendrix were to be studying his Masters at the Melbourne Conservatorium, we would call him an informed practitioner. Back then he was a seasoned professional working in relative anonymity in the hotbed of London with the support of Misters Clapton, Chandler, Jones and McCartney.
Today, magpie extraordinaire Bob Dylan – rock’s first poet Laureate, pirate, cowboy, the joker and the thief in the night – has spent the last two decades reverting to the ramshackle rhythm and blues template of the old masters. His Never Ending tour has become a quest for authenticity via a re-imagining of his back catalogue through the DNA of rhythm and blues. Purists take note.
So, it comes down to this notion of being informed and knowledgeable about the origins of cultural idioms that are being appropriated that defines music making and performance. Its evolution is an often lawless and contested process of cultural and technical mutation – a hack of the circuits, a pinch of the code.
In the first instance, something has to be identified as being worthy of emulation or adaptation, and in turn, something then has to be gained from the act of appropriating it. The art form must evolve, diversify, move forward, or – as the case is with Hendrix – take a giant leap into the future.
This essay was written by:
Mitch Goodwin – [Curriculum Design Lab, Faculty of Arts, University of Melbourne]
This article is part of a syndicated news program via
Now rare and classic Aussie tracks will help
the roadies who supported the bands who recorded them
The ARCA Desk Tape Series is an initiative of the Australian Road Crew Association (ARCA). ARCA is an Australia-wide not-for-profit organisation dedicated to the welfare of live production crew in Australia, past and present.
Without roadies to pack, unpack, carry, maintain and set up music artists gear, the shows simply would not go on.
Largely unsung heroes of the music business the work of a roadie is tough, hard and very time consuming. It often requires considerable travel and long hours and can be brutal on the body.
Yet, their welfare has largely been ignored by people in and out of the industry, until the formation of ARCA.
To build up resources to assist roadies, past and present, in need The Australian Road Crew Association (ARCA) early this month launched its new Desk Tape Series of classic Australian live gigs.
Now roadies have been amassing a trove of live recordings over the past 40 years, consisting of bands they have been working with.
Much of this music now being released on Black Box Records, with MGM Distribution handling digital and physical releases.
The series kicked off on Friday (November 10) with a Redgum tape.
Other recordings are coming include material from Australian Crawl, The Church, Cold Chisel, Crowded House, Jo Jo Zep & The Falcons, Wendy Matthews, Men At Work, Mental As Anything, Midnight Oil, The Models and Paul Kelly.
The Redgum release came from a 1985 show in Amsterdam’s legendary Melkweg (Milky Way) club.
Hot on the heels of hard touring around Australia behind the ‘I Was Only 19’ and “I’ve Been To Bali Too’ hits, Redgum were on fire when they hit Europe for a three-month tour – extended to four after airplay in the UK and the Continent.
The tapes were recorded by their sound engineer on the tour, Mark Williams, now running his own production company in Melbourne.
ARCA founder Ian Peel said, “These live recordings are culturally important especially of the pub rock era of the ‘70s and ‘80s.
They remind the music industry that roadies are the backbone of this industry and without them, there’d be no show, no band.
“They demonstrate the creativity that road crews display every day, as they put the show together, In the early days when equipment was really primitive, the road crews virtually had to build the gear themselves so the show could go on.”
Peel came up with the tapes initiative five years ago after he heard a road crew’s tape of a Jo Jo Zep & The Falcons show in the late ‘70s and was struck by its high quality of sound.
A call went out to the crew fraternity, and Peel now has 2000 cassettes. Many told him, “My kids are most likely going to throw my tapes out after I die, so I might as well assign the rights to ACRA.”
A meeting with MGM founder Sebastian Chase led to plans to put them out for commercial releases.
Each release acknowledges just how important roadies have been to making our live performance industry a stand out success. They offer recognition to the engineers who documented this wealth of genuine Australian music history.
Professor Philip Graham at the University of the Sunshine Coast, in conjunction with QUT and Griffith University, is overseeing the preservation, treatment and mastering of these tapes, which are then to be submitted into the National Film & Sound Archive in Canberra.
All proceeds generated by the Desk Tape Series will be used solely for the betterment of crew. The roadie who’s legacy provided these valuable cultural assets, will receive a share of profit and ARCA will retain 20% to help continue our services, with the balance going directly to the Roadies Fund, established expressly to assist roadies in crisis through our partnership with leading industry charity Support Act.
ARCA was formed initially as a social get together. It rapidly become a well-being service when anecdotes by crew members substantiated studies by Entertainment Assist that crews suffered a much higher rate of anxiety, depression, suicide and drink/drug issues than others in the entertainment biz and, indeed, the wider Australian society.
The association has now swelled to 300+ live production crew and over 200 paid associate members from all aspects of the music industry.
A Roadies Fund was set up via a partnership with music industry benevolent society, Support Act Ltd.
Peel recounts, “135 of us have died, 29 from their own hands. We’ve just lost three more in the last month
“ARCA has had a lot of support from the music industry and the music media.
“But we need more. We need more promoters to come on board with contributions and willingness to add a levy to their ticket sales to go to crews.
“We need more musicians to play benefits for the crews.
“These tapes will not only help them financially but for the departed ones, it signifies respect and acknowledgement of their contribution to building the music industry.”
1,000 unbroken weekly interviews is quite a record
On Monday 23rd October, Listen To Older Voices [LTOV] will celebrate it’s 1,000th continuous weekly program.
Never heard of Listen To Older Voices? Well, maybe it’s time you did!
The program was first aired nationally in October of 1998. It had that embryonic national start with Hannah Sky and Jaycey Hall.
At that time the program was operating under the auspice of the Upper Yarra Community house which is located in Melbourne’s Yarra Valley.
The Listen To Older Voices program commenced and continues to be part of the Melba Community Support program which in turn is now part of Uniting Wesley.
The idea for the program seems to have had its genesis when workers employed by the Upper Yarra Community House who were visiting people who were socially and or geographically isolated, realised that the older people they were speaking with had amazing stories about their upbringing and the times they lived in.
Workers would take a small portable cassette deck and record some of the stories of these older folk. Then the local community radio station in Woori Yallock [YV-FM] became involved and in fact is the host community station for the program and has remained involved from it’s inception until today.
From this very basic start Hannah and Jaycey worked hard to gather stories and convince the Community Broadcasting Association of Australia [CBAA] to take the program for national distribution.
In 2004, the job of program producer, interviewer and editor was taken over by myself and continue through to today.
The program has continued to grow both in its reach and in it’s style of presentation.
The most popular format for the program, as initiated by Hannah and Jaycey, was what is called, the “Life and Times” format. This is where person is encouraged to recall stories of their early life through until present time.
In those early years each person interviewed generally had a single program, but as the program developed and gained a wider audience it was changed with each persons story being given more time so that more of the persons story could be told.
Currently, each story/interview runs for three programs, with four programs being used on occasions.
As technology advanced LTOV kept pace. Recordings provided for those interviewed moved across from cassette to CD. Initially each program was on a mini disk and mailed to the Community Broadcasting Association of Australia. Now they are uploaded directly to both the CBAA satellite server and the Toorak Times.
The program continues to be broadcast weekly by YV-FM and approximately 26 community radio stations across Australia take the program regularly.
In recent years both the Melba program and Listen To Older Voices moved under the auspice of Wesley Uniting. This has meat the program has access to older people across all the regions of Melbourne and that means an even greater variety of stories.
In December of 2014 Mick Pacholli who is the publisher of the Toorak Times was approached about podcasting Listen To Older Voices. Mick, who is very astute, saw the potential in the program immediately.
So it is that every Monday at the time when the program is made available to the CBAA, a podcast of the same program is published on the Toorak Times and it’s arts magazine, Tagg.
This has increased the audience many fold.
Yet LTOV is much more than a story of technology and audience reach. Each story features the life of an Australian, born here or overseas, and who is of 65 years of age or older.
Recently, with the Baby Boomer generation moving not just past the 65 year age but into the 70 year age group, LTOV Baby Boomer generation programs, featuring the stories of this generation have been added to the programs presented.
As this is a generation that not just saw great change like its predecessors, but is a generation that drove change with a passion, it provides a whole different outlook on life as experienced by that generation.
Listen To Older Voices reminds us that those we think of as “older people’ not only have made a contribution to this country, to the state they live in and to their local community, but in so many cases continue to do so despite their age.
This is the essence of the concept the program calls “positive ageing”. It reminds us all that age is not a barrier to Australian’s undertaking activities that continue to contribute to making this country so great.
Other more recent changes have seen the introduction of “Golden Moments” programs, where past programs are taken from the “Vault of Treasured Programs” and replayed for the benefit of those who may have missed that program the first time it was aired.
Australia has become a wonderful nation and in many ways the envy of many countries. However, it did not get this way because of its sports stars and politicians, which if you watch commercial television and read the syndicated dailies, is what is you might conclude.
It IS the average everyday Australian that has made this country what it is!
Listen To Older Voices reminds us of this. It is now probably the longest running interview format program on radio or television featuring older people and with continued financial support from the commonwealth government through its Commonwealth Home Support program, will continue for many more years.
Speaking as the programs longest working producer and interviewer I say – “It is a privilege to work on this program. I don’t just get invited into people’s homes, I get invited into their lives, and, I take that very responsibly”.
There have been many hundreds of Australian’s interviewed, and everyone has a story, and every story should be told.
Among them is the story of Clem Gracie that helped LTOV become a national award winning program when in 2006, it came runner up to non other than the juggernaut, the ABC, in the category of “National – radio, news and public affairs” category of awards run by the organization, Older People Speaking Out.
Not bad for a one-person operation on a shoe-string budget up against the mighty national broadcaster!
Other outstanding interviews, and there have been many, include Jack Charles.
Jack is a much loved and iconic figure in both the indigenous and non-indigenous communities. He is among many things, an actor, musician, potter, and Aboriginal elder. Jack featured as the subject in 2012 when his photo won the National Photographic Portrait Prize. He was a National Finalist as the Senior Australian of the Year in 2016 and recently, Anh Do’s portrait of Jack won the 2017 Archibald People’s Choice Award.
So on Monday October 23rd the 1000th Listen To Older Voice’s program will air across the CBAA and via the Toorak Times and Tagg podcast. It features the Life and Times story of a 71 year old Baby Boomer by the name of Norman (Normie) Rowe AM.
Why does Normie hold pride of place as the 1000th program? Well, listen to his story and it will be obvious. While he was at one time the most popular entertainer in Australia, particularly in the 1960’s and still continues with his music career today, it really is because of his unswerving commitment, passion and dedication to Australian veterans of the Vietnam War that his story stands out.
You are encouraged to seek out this 4-part program and indeed, those that will follow.
Now while there will be many wonderful programs following the Normie Rowe story, past programs can also be accessed at anytime. There is a link at the bottom of all podcast LTOV programs that will take you to any previous podcast program.
Remember the 1,000th program can be listened to via the Toorak Times/Tagg as of Monday 23rd October and can be accessed by clicking on here.
Heidi Mellington, performing here with
Anthony Smith in Dizzygothica in 2007, has spoken about the importance of a
supportive local music scene for emerging artists.
Electronic dance music (EDM) is an increasingly popular music genre. Electronic music can be defined as a sound dominated by electronic instruments and digitally generated sounds and also by digital samples of vocals and conventional instruments.
Despite the emergence of new communication technologies for music production and dissemination, it is still essential for EDM artists to be part of a local music scene.
Emerging artists typically depend heavily on the contacts and resources that they can find in their local city. The nature and scale of the truly global music industry appear not to have changed this relationship between EDM artists and their local music scene.
DJ Tiesto is asking for US$250,000 per DJ set. Daft Punk, the duo who pioneered French house in the 1990s, are worth US$120 million in licensing deals, royalties, music sales and merchandise. Their value increased after the success of their fourth album, Random Memories, which has sold more than 3.2 million copies worldwide.
EDM artists, unlike the most famous DJs, belong to local alternative scenes as is the case in Brisbane. Those scenes can be labelled as underground. According to the semi-structured interviews performed for my research, the electronic scene in Brisbane started as a DIY alternative scene.
In Brisbane, the rock and punk scenes have been documented in books like Pig City. In contrast, the electronic scene in Brisbane is rather unknown, yet it gathered more than 200 artists between 1979 and 2014. This has been documented in BNE: The Definitive Archive, released by Dennis Bremmer, founder of independent music label Trans:Com.
If music is global, why does local still matter?
Emerging artists need to engage with the technology and to have access to mentoring and technical advice. It’s a point made by Heidi Mellington, who joined the scene in the early 2000s:
Being in a city gives you access to mentors that have been trained and know how to use the latest sofwares.
Most musicians interviewed for my research were interested in creating experimental edgy music. The aim was not necessarily to become successful, but to remain underground.
Brisbane’s electronic sound can be labelled as “electronic fusion”. It’s a blend of hip-hop, funk, drum and bass and sometimes goth music, according to Porl Deville, who was part of successful acts such as My Ninja Lover, who opened for Ben Harper, Jamiroquai and Mobyin the mid-1990s.
Local radio stations such 4ZZZ or Triple J helped artists to have their electronic dance music tracks played. In Brisbane, venues like The Zoo, Ric’s Cafe Bar and The Lofly Hangar – a meeting place for the independent music community; it no longer exists – welcomed EDM artists.
These artists still need to be engaged in the economic and social networks that are found in metropolitan areas. This helps them to access technical advice, mentoring and grants (to fund music videos).
Even if Facebook and Soundcloud are fantastic tools for self-promotion, location is important. It remains an asset for a young EDM artist to be located in a city. It’s there that they have access to the best equipment and can learn about software tricks and production, mixing and mastering tips from experienced mentors.
This article was written by:
Sebastien Darchen [Lecturer in Planning, The University of Queensland]
This article is part of a syndicated news program via
Pop-up exhibition Window Art Walk begins at 33 Fitzroy St St Kilda.
This venue is open to the general public and will feature paintings by Pop Indigenous artist Dino Damiani along with works from other painters, sculptors and performance artists including Faye de Pasquale, Laurie Miller, Clare Austin and Adrian Spurr.
Vegan cafe #HAPPYFoLK at 11A Fitzroy St was recently opened by property developer and entrepreneur Freddie Warschauer. Freddie will be sponsoring the Window Art Walk at venues either side of #HAPPYFoLK showcasing an eclectic mix of art in shop windows on the sunset side of the Green Knoll.
At the magical Spring Equinox light and dark forces are in balance. Over this weekend 33 Fitzroy St will host Indigenous smoking and Shamanic ceremonies.
Shamanic Healing Seminar
On Saturday 23 September at 11 am St Kilda based Shamanic healer Josephine Celeste will perform a ceremony celebrating re-emergence of the light, life and empowerment.
On Sunday 24 September at 11am – 12 noon Josephine Celeste will also host a FREE seminar titled Trauma to Life Purpose and group Shamanic healing ritual. To be part of this very special free event bookings are essential as seating is limited. Bookings for seminar: 0410 190 593
For further information about exhibition contact pationpics.com 0423 308 005.
Location: Christ Church St Kilda (Anglican), 14 Acland st. St Kilda
Re-inventing LIFE through ART, an ongoing therapy.
Silent intelligence, each soul’s higher self, speaks of a collective, a whole; the human race as one. In our hearts we all know this to be true, one only needs to apply thought. Pressure in the frontal lobe region may follow as a result, tension will subside with gradual use of the minds eye.
If you’re in disagreement I invite you to come along and allow the artists involved to persuade you of another outlook, or more accurately in-look. An in-look which becomes an outlook of the soul. Push the envelope and watch it bend, be like the reed in the wind, the one Confucius spoke of. The Hidden runs our lives, for most of us have no idea of our purpose of existance. Most of us hide behind invisible mask of our choosing.
Man is a walking talking paradox, who’s hypocritical abilities are of legendary status. At this point in humanity’s evolution I believe it is important to pause and take stock of one’s true purpose, lights, gifts and shadows truths. Together they provide the human halone with a third dimensional experience, according to information (thoughts) available.
Seems to me, one’s thoughts and intent should take precedence above all.
Born from universal art and culture. Inspired by California’s successful community strengtheningVenice Art Crawl and fuelled by St Kilda’s passionate grass roots’ creatives. The St Kilda Art Crawl has arrived.
Similar to St Kilda’s sister city of Venice Beach in California and like the Venice Art Crawl, St Kilda Art Crawl is a not for profit incentive for the people by the people.
It’s aim is to galvanise community spirit and co operation by proactively integrating the business world with the world of art and culture. The life blood of any great city. This is a unified drive inviting St Kilda’s local artist, musicians, writers, poets and street artists to share and celebrate who they are with the world.
As well as combined effort and support from the local traders, artists will be supported by extensive media coverage through TV, Radio and online media.
The World is Your Oyster so get involved!
Last night Wilbur Wilde was MC at Acland Street’s Veludo Cafe host to the second Mixer for SKACbringing together artists, enthusiasts and local traders in preparation for the next St Kilda Art Crawl on the 22 – 23 of September 2017 – a week before the grand final; and with a collaborative spirit SKAC and VACwill be streaming events via their mutual Facebook pages linking the sister cities in celebration.
Original SKAC member Mick Pacholli in Q & A
Colonel Pietro Iodice chairman of SKAC in Q & A
Geoffrey Fry SKAC Creative Director in Q & A
Coin Talbot with partner Liz, friend Jean and Wilbur Wilde MC for the evening
Delta Airlines domestic flight 191 had originally taken off from Fort Lauderdale, Florida and is scheduled to complete it’s trip in Los Angeles after a brief stop over at Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport.
The plane is a Lockheed L-1011-385-1 Tristar.
The Captain is Edward N. Connors, (57 years) and he had been flying with the airline since 1954. His First Officer is Rudolph P. Price Jnr, (42 years).
Other Delta Captains who had the pleasure of flying with Price, described him as a competent, above average first officer, possessing excellent knowledge of the Tristar.
The Flight Engineer is Nick N. Nassick (43 years). Again, his co-workers found him also very observant, alert and professional.
It was First Officer Price who was in control of the plane.
Onboard are 152 passengers and 11 crew.
Also on this particular flight is Mary Ann Estridge and her husband Don Estridge. Don was the driving force/developer behind the Original IBM Personal Computer. Jean Hancock, sister of Musician Herbie Hancock also had a seat, along with youngster Richard Laver and his father Ian, brother of Australian tennis legend Rod (Rocket) Laver.
The control tower gives the order for the flight to decend to 10,000 feet.
The controller suggests they fly a heading of 250 degrees toward the Blue Ridge approach, but Captain Connors replies that the route would take them through a storm cell.
Captain Conners: Well, I’m looking at a cell at about a heading of 255. It’s a pretty good sized cell and I’d rather not go through it, I’d rather go around it one way or the other.
After a brief conversation, they are assigned a new heading. The flight is given permission to go around the storm, rather than directly through it. Once clear of it, the plane will line up for a landing on runway 17L.
Three miles ahead of Flight 191 is a corporate Learjet flown by Captain Rufus Lewis. His plane is also on approach to Runway 17L.
Flight 191 is getting too close to the Learjet and is ordered to slow down to 180 knots.
Flight 191 is now only 50 km from the runway, so the cabin crew begin preparations for landing.
RICHARD LAVER – His own account of that day
It was the night before the accident, Richard sat down to dinner with his mother, and he recalls telling her that the plane was going to crash.
Richard had experienced many dreams leading up to the flight, and to comfort him, his mother told him that it was a one in a million chance that would happen.
Richard was a frequent flyer, having travelled all over the world, but this day was very different. He reluctantly headed off to the airport with his father. They were on there way to a tennis tournament. This time he was very nervous. Richard had never been scared to fly in his life.
He together with his father got onto the flight and he remembers the skies were blue and crystal clear. Conditions were favourable.
Richards father sat back in his chair and was soon transfixed on a John Wayne movie. Richard on the other hand was looking out to the right of him and through the window saw what appeared to be a storm cell. When he saw that storm cell, he immediately got worried and needed a trip to the bathroom. Whilst in there, he splashed water on his face and looked into the mirror and something came over him. He just knew that the plane was going to crash.
Richard then returned to his seat, sat down and left his seatbelt unhitched.
An announcement came over the PA from the pilot that they may have to circle around and possibly land at another airport. So the stewards began preparing the passengers for landing. A female flight attendant was approaching Richard to check that all people had their seatbelts fastened, and Richard purposely didn’t fasten his, rather grabbed a blanket and pulled it up and over the buckle so she couldn’t see it.
The next recollection Richard has is lying a field, having been thrown 50 yards clear of the plane. Both he and his father were seated right where the plane split. Later it would be determined that having his seatbelt un-buckled actually saved his life. Sadly everyone including his father in that row perished in the crash.
Richard found himself in shock, he couldn’t speak or move. People from the hwy nearby who ran over to assist were looking for survivors at the tail end of the plane near the water towers.
One passer by watched the plane hit a car and crash. He decided to go through the fence, got all cut up doing so and then saw Richards hand the only part of him visible as he was submerged under water. He grabbed his hand and pulled him out. That’s when his rescuer said, “Your going to be ok”.
Richard recalls, his physical injuries healed faster than his psychological ones.
Over the years, Richard has asked himself, Why did I survive? Why am I still here? In fact everyone asks themselves that question after a while, it’s part of the maturation process,” Laver said.
The plane touched down 6,000 feet short of the runway and 360 feet to the left of the runway centerline, became airborne again, struck a car killing the driver, crossed the highway and crashed into two water tank reservoirs.
The severed rear section of the plane is where most survivors are found although flight attendants at the front also survive.
Of the 163 passengers and crew 132 died upon impact, with 31 injured. Two passengers later died in hospital whilst receiving care.
This article is dedicated to them.
THE CREW (DECEASED)
ALFORD, Fran, Miami.
ARTZ, Freida, Miami.
CONNORS, Edward M., Atlanta, The Captain.
JOHNSON, Diane, Miami.
LEE, Alyson, Miami.
MODZELEWSKI, Joan, Miami.
NASSICK, Nick N., 44 Decatur, Ga Second Officer.
PRICE, Rudy P., 43 Atlanta, First Officer.
AGELOFF, Scott, Miami.
ANDERSON, Carrie, Fort Lauderdale, Fla.
ANDERSON, Curtis, Fort Lauderdale.
BAILIE, Ronald, San Fernando Valley, Calif.
BANNER, T., San Francisco.
BANNER (infant), San Francisco.
BARNES, Joanne, Del Ray Beach, Fla.
BARNES, Kara, Del Ray Beach.
BARNES, Moses, Del Ray Beach.
BATTISTI, Christine, Boca Raton, Fla..
BERNSTEIN, Sidney, Fort Lauderdale.
BHATTI, D., Fort Lauderdale.
BHATTI, R., Fort Lauderdale.
BHATTI, B., Fort Lauderdale.
BLOUCH, Mark, Fort Lauderdale.
BOEKELOO, Jack, Fort Lauderdale.
BOEKELOO, Pat, Fort Lauderdale.
BROWN, Cindy, Belleflower, Calif.
BROWN, Darlene, Chicago.
BROWN, G., Hollywood, Fla..
BROWN, J., Fort Lauderdale area.
BROWNSTEIN, Mrs. M., Margate, Fla..
CAPRIELIAN, Arthur, Oakland Park, Fla.
CAPRIELIAN, Mrs. Pransy, Oakland Park.
CASSEDY, Kevina, Los Angeles.
CHAPFIELD, V., Boynton Beach, Fla.
CHERKAS, M., address unknown.
CHERKAS, Anne, 74, West Palm Beach, Fla.
CLARK, James Paul, Atlanta.
COLLEY, Mary K., Dallas.
DAHL, Steve, Sandy, Utah.
DOUGLAS, Michael, Tulsa, Okla.
DOYLE, Deanna, 25, Amarillo, Tex.
EDELMAN, M., Fort Lauderdale.
EPSTEIN, Mike, Boston.
ESTRIDGE, Philip D., Boca Raton.
ESTRIDGE, Mrs. P., Boca Raton.
FABRIELLO, Joe, Atlanta.
FIELDS, Christopher, Los Angeles.
FIELDS, Rachel, Los Angeles.
FLANIGAN, Charles, Hollywood, Fla..
FLANIGAN, Roslind, Hollywood, Fla..
FRAZIER, B., address unknown.
GILLIARD, Zohniffer, Atlanta.
GOLDBERG, A., Fort Lauderdale.
GOLDMAN, Max, Fort Lauderdale.
GUFFEY, Glenda, Coconut Creek, Fla.
GUTERMA, Marc, Mesa, Colo..
HANCOCK, Jean C., Half Moon Bay, Calif.
HASSELHORST, Charles J., Hermosa Beach, Calif.. HIRONAKA, Aimee, California.