1.
And so it goes… And so it went… And so it is…
Since I started writing music, and since I have tried (mostly, lets face it, in vain) to express that which floats around in my confused mind through the vaguely artistic medium in which I spend most of my time (be it
directing, performing or writing/composing), I’ve searched for a modicum of
clarity. We all have and do, no doubt. Mine, doubtless like many others, seems
to have been particularly hard to find, harder to maintain and even harder to
express. Essentially it doesn’t matter what that clarity is, what it pertains
to or how one finds it. The only thing I know is that I need and demand it.
If I had the intellect I could envisage a sprawling Pirsig-esque
or Hessian (would that be the word for something akin to Herman Hesse?….you
know like Orwellian for Orwell) essay. Like the ‘Quality’ essay in ‘The Art of
Zen and Motorcycle maintenance’, or the wordy Steppenwolf with its
ever-reaching, never-ending self-analysis and toweringly grey critiques. As it
is, my humble mind with it’s self defeating rhythms could never begin to
explain the things I think and so I invite you once again to join me as I
ramble through the unkempt and misinformed notions that occur to me as I sit
here, once again, in the Black Cat on Brunswick street in Fitzroy, and try to
collate these word into a substanceless form that at least means something to
me…
“Excuse me, another strong flat white please!”…
I’ve long since abandoned my idea of trying to emulate, in
however a pretentious a manner, a different author in each blog (it was fun
while it lasted eh?). This is due at least in part to the fact that I can now (having
become utterly obsessed) only write and think like either Jack Kerouac or
myself. Having already rinsed old Jack, I’ll have to stick to writing like
myself and hope that it’s not to monotonous, boring or derivative.
I’ve truly had some mad adventures in the past five months.
Like I said in a recent FB (the ultimate harbinger of woe) post, some of the
most brilliant and heartbreaking moments I’m ever likely to have to deal with
have come to pass. I feel however that I do seem to have come through this all
with at least part of my (tenuous at times) sanity intact. I’m still alive,
haven’t gone completely mad, or out of my mind with depression and anxiety, and
have at least enough ‘get up and go’ left to tell you all how I feel and whats
been happening.
“Excuse me, another strong flat white please!”…
The last week has been utterly brilliant and very testing
all at the same time. Learning to bite one’s tongue has been a big lesson for
me. I have been trying very hard to be off grid, not post too much or give too
much away to those who don’t need to hear it. At the same time I’ve been
putting a great deal of effort into maintaining some of the wonderful
connections I’ve made since I’ve been in Australia. Some of the people I’ve met
since I went off on my own and my wonderfully kind and friendly crew in
Melbourne have been a true source of strength and inspiration to me. It’s only
really fair that I keep in touch with them. However, being online as always,
has its downfalls. You’re always going to see things you don’t want to see. The
connections that we have now made as a species are now so infinitely vast and
manifold that it is literally impossible to stay away from every thing without
being totally off grid and ignoring and worrying my friends and loved ones.
Once again I refer to the ancient Chinese proverb, “Its better to be on the
Internet less, than see all the totally and incomprehensibly shit stuff that’s
gonna fuck me up good”. Man, the Chinese knew their stuff eh!?!?!
“Excuse me, another strong flat white please!”…
It occurs to me that you can never truly know anyone. I wish
this weren’t true. I wish you could, but recent events have told me this just
isn’t the case. I guess this has been what half my battle has been. Not just
the gut-wrenching realities of what has occurred in my life recently, but more me
simply trying to come to terms with the fact that people do change, make
ridiculous decisions and fuck themselves and many others up. The middle two
months of my trip away really helped me, especially on the ‘ignorance is bliss’
front, but a recent discovery (not that I’ve watched the new music video or
ever will, for those in the know) has surely helped on the clarity front. I’d class
myself as even more of a COMPLETE MUG if I didn’t allow this new revelation to
show me the light and moreover the simplicity of my situation. How anyone in
their right minds could ever think that this mindless move could benefit them
or NOT hurt anyone else is just way beyond me. Clarity…..aaaaah clarity, how I
have searched for your icy grip and what gloom ridden joy your presence
provides. If I was searching for a sign, as I have so often beseeched the
heavens for, then surely this is it. The next month or so is probably going to
be properly brutal, but no longer as complex and vague as it once threatened
to be. Perhaps this was the ultimate intention behind this bizarre act of
non-empathy.
“Excuse me, another strong flat white please!”…
I return home in but a few short days, and to be honest I’m
kind of looking forward to it now. I can’t wait to move into my new place with
one of the most positive and brilliant guys I know, Matt Brooks. This dude is
one of the finest musicians I have ever met and I know that his very presence
is gonna kick start my musical mind back into production mode. I cannot wait to
see my crew in the gnarly little punk hub of Plymouth again and I know that
it’s going to be wonderful to see my supportive family again too. I have had a
bunch of work related emails in the last few weeks and despite purposefully
putting them all off (my sincerest apologies) I have plenty to be getting on
with and sorting out upon my return to England's fair and familiar shores.
So, it would appear that we all struggle throughout our
lives with the most base of emotions, fear. That shit can hold you under the
water real good! It seems that it’s only as we begin to black out, our chests
heaving, our starving brains pounding and our minds on the edge of resignation
to our fates that we see the flicker of hope. The hand reaching to drag us
roughly by our collars back to the safety of the shore. I’ve been there plenty
and am about fucking done with it. Why should I let the actions of others and
more importantly (more fool me for allowing this of course) my own attachments
to non-existent realities drag me down repeatedly to the depths of insanity? Well
I shouldn’t and from here on in my energies, as depleted as they are, are going
to be devoted to seeing through that shit and writing the best music I can. Its
not like I don’t have enough emotional impetus to get started eh?
“Excuse me, another strong flat white please!”…
I said many posts ago now that I wasn’t going to let myself
become embittered and cynical. I’m not. I’m certainly not going to let my
loathing of the situation that I’ve found myself in take hold. This isn’t a
witch-hunt and I’m not doing any hunting. I’m just simply telling you all how I
feel. That was the purpose of this blog and I’m sure like me (if I indeed allow
myself to view it) you’ll see a change in how I’m writing and how you may think
I’m seeing the world. Hate is far too strong an emotion to get caught up in and
so I really will be trying to be the bigger man, to be the better person and to
see the world from as wider view as possible. Of course it’s also possible that
I may relapse into the blood soaked nightmares and stomach churning spite of
old. I’m only human.
I think that part of my so-called recovery has been due to
the wonderful energy and warmth afforded me all across this huge red land of
untold beauty and opportunity. I cannot thank my Melbourne crew enough. I’ve told
them all just to imagine that I’m just going travelling to the UK for a while.
They’ll see me again. I have some REAL friends here. Not just friends of
convenience, but real connections. My heartfelt thanks and admiration must go
out to one of the best and funniest mates a little blue skink (reference) like
me could have, Doug. Kept me laughinf for weeks bro! Dougs trusty sidekick and most beautiful yang to his ying, the lovely Doll (good save Dobson!...please forgive the brain mush)... without you this trip would have been far too normal and much less noisey, always there with a hug, and normally all other kinds of helpful things (phones/bikes/antidotes!). Love you. Chris (Hancock),
you are a legend, comedy, talented and smart as fuck. Bromance at its finest.
Albert, you drongo, you’re a special kid. That sounds patronising, but you know
me well enough to know how I think of our friendship (god I’m soft eh!?!?!).
Soulful and intelligent WAY beyond your years mate. Nina and Mad dog, so great
hanging with you both. Kyle, Liam, Knives, Stew, Pablo, Janita, Shayli, Lexi,
Ruby, Patch… you’ve made this all way easier than it might have been, my heart
is with you all, we’ll see each other again in no time….Simmo Dobbo don’t
forget kindness like this!
Elsewhere…. Flower Fairy Amy, Kelly, Josh (lobes), Jack (beard),
Dave (Chef), Nicole (bags), Jessie-cat, Lee (dean), Vincent, Andy4, Ollie,
Wreckhead Andy, Max, Celeine, Becky, Candace, Cera, Emily, Rich, Katia, Mitch,
Shu, Tash, Jimmy, Melodie, Steve, Felipe (x2), Sarah-jane, Jessie-Rose, Mohawk
Andy and anyone else who I’ve forgotten (please do forgive me…. that’s what six
weeks at the ARTS does to ones brain!)… You’ve made the last three months so
exciting and brilliant that I could never forget a single one of you. X
2.
So…. What have I been up to? I’m sure you simply can’t wait to find out eh!? “Tell us
Simmo!” I hear you cry, “Regale us with your stories of debauchery and
heartbreak, do oh please do!” I hear you shout in python-esque unison across
the deserts and mountains of red!
Well…I’ve been up to stuff, as it goes…
“Excuse me, another strong flat white please!”…
Since last we one sidedly conversed via the “Internet” I’ve
got up to some pretty exciting stuff. Upon leaving Sydney I met my new and
wonderful friend Phil Anderton. Phil is brass bander, an intelligent and kindly
one too. Phil plays with and is immensely proud of the Gunnadah Shire Band, a
brass band nearly in the outback up north near the border to Queenland.
Gunnadah with their conductor (and old friend of mine) Jason Katsikaris have
played some of my music and so Phil decided when he heard I was going to be in
Oz that I should meet the players. As a composer, you don’t turn down
opportunities like this. To meet players the other side of the world that have
put effort and emotion into learning your music is a rare honour.
 |
| A magnificent man in his flying machine! |
Phil met me in Sydney and we drove the six hours (via
Newcastle) to the gliding club where he stays when he’s playing with the band.
Why a gliding club? Well, good ol’ Phil has a two seater prop plane THAT HE
BUILT HIMSELF!!!! On the Monday went out flying. We got to 7000 feet and 200
knots in a plane no bigger than a small car! Much fun. Then Phil said, “you
wanna fly it”… “yes” I said, “yes I do!”. I took over the controls (Phil still
had complete control of everything except the steering I must add) and gunned
the little red and white devil across the skies and over the mountains and
deserts of Australia. The feeling was like very few things I’ve ever felt!
Thanks for the opportunity Phil. Another big tick on the unexpected holiday wishlist! (Incidentally, when we landed the little dirt track runway was filled with roos and we had to buzz them with our plane to get them to scatter, before attempting a second landing! Bloody roos!) That night we drank red wine in the clubhouse on the deserted dirt
track runway of the little gliding club in the middle of fucking nowhere.
As I returned to my cabin I noticed the stars. Now dig, I’m
from Cornwall and sometimes the stars are pretty epic there, but nothing like
this. I’ve literally never seen anything like it. Iridescent and transcendent.
No light pollution at all and a perfectly clear sky meant that the clarity of
the night scape was just unreal. The Milky Way stretched out to form a perfect
and defined white line directly across the sky and as I lay down to view it
from the horizontal I felt a true feeling of connectedness and a humbling sense
of my own insignificance in the greater sense. “Come on! Take me, come down and
get me!” I whispered to myself, and I meant it. If they had come down right then to take me away I’d have welcomed it.
I returned to the clubhouse to ask Phil if he thought it was arrogant for any
one of us to presume that we are alone in the universe. He said he thought it
was and I agreed. I donated money to SETI (the Search for Extra-Terrestrial
Intelligence) there and then and slept to dreams of worlds afar.
 |
| Roos. Loads of Roos! |
When I awoke the next morning to clear blue skies I was
greeted by the sight of hundreds of wild roo’s grazing on the runway. What a
sight! After breakfast Phil and I flew an hour across the red desert to see one
of my kindly pilots work colleagues, a wonderful aboriginal woman called
Phillis. She worked as an optometrist in a town with a 70% aboriginal
population. The place was amazing, she told me some more about the plight of Australia’s
indigenous people and showed me the parts of the small town where people still
lived in huts. Tradition is strong here. We flew back and I slipped into
reveries about dreaming and the
vastness of this place and its untold millenia of history prior to the arrival
to its shores of the white man, with his greed for power and wealth.
 |
| Conducting the wonderful Gunnadah Youth Brass Band. |
Later that night we attended a rehearsal with the Gunnadah
Shire Youth Band and I was introduced to a wonderful group of musicians and
ever supportive parents, including the hugely hard working Lawrence Rowe and
his son the talented youth band MD. I was lucky enough to be given a cornet and
I sat ‘4th man down’ and split notes all over the ceiling for an
hour or so. Later I was even luckier to be allowed to conduct the band. We had
a great time! After we drank beers and made plans and schemes for the future.
I’m sure I’ll see them all again. I must extend my most heartfelt thanks for
the opportunity to meet this brilliant gang. Keep going! You’re doing
everything right!!!!!
“Excuse me, another strong flat white please!”…
The next day I flew back down to Melbourne and into the
loving arms of my crew here. Things kicked off straight away and a week of
partying got me back to full flow.
 |
| Shred! Smash! Shred! Smash! |
On Friday night, and in a great mood (due in part to the
clarity found that day from hearing the news from home) we went to the Tote.
The Tote is one of Melbourne's best live music venues with a rig the size of
England AND a sound guy who knew the score. We were there to see local heroes
Mesa Cosa. Mexi-thrash punk. Can you imagine? Exactly what you’re thinking is
how it sounded only with ten times more mayhem and chaos. Fucking awesome!
Having met a good portion of the band (Stew, Knives, Pablo and Marty) on my
previous stay in Melbourne and having bought new mouthpieces that very day I
ended up taking a solo in one tune. I’m not gonna say it was the neatest I’ve
ever played, but it did suit. Unbridled slaying and shredding was the name of
the game. I was so drunk I could only just stand, but this (I sincerely hope)
only added to the sense of mayhem and unhinged energy that the band had! Nearly
the whole Fitzroy crew was in the audience and most of them ended the gig either
injured, vomiting or both. ROCK! I got to bed at 4am and was up at 9am to
skydive. Yeah, I said it!
 |
| So so so rad! Hancock (left piece) and Heesco, killin' it! |
I made my way out to the airfield almost deaf thanks to Mesa
Cosa and so so hungover. Luckily it was raining like hell and I had to rebook
for Monday. The weekend passed, as it often seems to in Fitzroy by simply
trying to recover from Friday. On Sunday we heard tell that our good friend and
uber talented street artist ‘Hancock’ had secured a previously illegal wall
right next to the Black Cat, where I sit now to pen this rambling tome. We
bought beers and watched a whole group of artists (most from different crews,
although the mainstay were from Melbourne based ‘Blender’) paint and spray
their way to artistic freedom. Hancock and Heesco (a lovely guy from Mongolia)
painted the best of the bunch to my mind and created a truly epic piece
featuring Skelator from He-man. These guys work on an amazing level. This isn’t
just graff, this is art, plain and simple. Made even more impressive by how
laid back the artists and atmosphere was. We had a great time and I retired
early knowing that the morning bought with it the distinct possibility that I
was going to throw myself out of a plane travelling at 300 mph and at 14’000
feet…. Fuck!
“Excuse me, another strong flat white please!”…
I actually slept pretty well and got under way in plenty of
time. I have to admit that as I approached the airfield a little bit of me
wished the skies weren’t quite so blue and the air quite so windless!!! “Fuck!”
I thought, I’m actually going to do this!!! It kinda felt mad to be doing
something like a skydive with no-one there with me, but as I’ve made obvious in
previous posts the most alive I’ve felt on this trip has been when I’m alone. I
turned up to the Melbourne Skydive centre and met a couple of real cool people.
We were given a (very) quick brief, trained in a harness and got suited up. The
guy who was my tandem partner had 5000 jumps under his belt so I felt in about
as safe a hands as it were possible to be in. It’s an odd feeling when you know
for sure that your life is in the
hands of someone else. Considering this I felt pretty easy about it all.
Jumping out of a plane really shouldn’t be that hard considering what my brain
has been through in the last five months eh?!
I was in load three and so had to watch eight other jumpers
come down before it was my turn to load up. Soon enough though it was time to
get into the little plane. I paid an extra $50 for an outside camera man to
jump and film with us (so totally worth it, if only for the oh-so-obvious
profile pic moment) and after a few setup shots and interviews I was packed
into the little plane. We rumbled, shaking our way across the airfield and took
off. The journey up seemed to take forever. 14’000 feet is super high like!
Then at 11’000 my tandem instructor said to the whole plane in a super calm
voice, “Ok, everyone be real cool but we’ve just got to sort a few things out
here”, at the same moment the pilot turned round and mouthed “two minutes till
drop!….ALARM BELLS!!!! The instructors’ pilot chute (the little tiny thing that
slows your free fall from 375 kph to 300 kph and keeps you straight) wasn’t in
his pack and was instead hanging out on the deck on the plane behind him. I
have to admit that all the colour drained from my cheeks at this point. The
other jumpers laughed about this. Brilliant. After a hasty but measured re-pack
(that had unbeknownst to me taken a further 2000 feet of climbing time) I was
re-clipped to the instructor and literally before I knew it the door slid back
and I was shuffled to the edge of the abyss over looking Melbourne, the
surrounding areas and feeling the chill of a -15, 300mph wind!!!
 |
| FUUUUUCK YEEEEAAAHHHHH! |
Now dig, it is utterly impossible to maintain cool under
these circumstances and I’m in no way ashamed to say that I was pretty scared,
but before there was time to think the count had begun, “Ready, steady, jump!”,
and we were over the edge! Holy Shit….I have never in my life felt anything
like those first few moments of free fall. I could have been on another planet
for all I knew. Complete sensory overload!!! The forces exerted on your body
and mind are unreal. Suddenly, after tumbling this way and that we were in free
fall, this lasted 55 seconds, or so I’m told, it could have been any amount of
time! My hands instantly and instinctively found the double ‘fuck yeah’ pose
and the following minute blew my tiny, fragile, warped little mind! Free fall is
the most exhilarating and alien thing a human can do I think. But thank science
above that I did it…. Many people will die never having felt that scared and
high! What kicks!!! The canopy opened, my goggles were off and we flew, like
literally flew. It doesn’t get much better than that. The instructor let me
steer and we came in with a perfect landing, after which I could have almost
been sick with the amount of adrenalin coursing around my veins. This as for
sure one of the most brilliant experiences of my life! The rest of the day
seemed pretty slow after that. Everyone needs to try skydiving once…
“Excuse me, another strong flat white please!”…
After a slow start Tuesday happened (as I was convinced it
would). I went to meet my lovely friends Kyle, Ruby and Lexi for breakfast,
which included bloody marys and soon we were sat in Kyles back yard with a slab
of cider tying to convince each other that we were not in fact alcoholics! We
went to party in the evening and cycled along Melbourne's die straight roads
with me and Doug hell drunk, trying to out stupid-cycle each other. Think the
ministry of silly walks, on bikes…laughed pretty hard!
Wednesday I sat and wrote a great deal of what you see here
before being met at the Black Cat by an old friend from the southwest of the UK
called Chris Lane. We know all the Freshly Squeezed (my old band) crew in
common and so had a great deal to yarn about. Much fun, but WAY too much
coffee!!!! Wednesday night I thought I’d go to see some of the artist friends
I’ve made since being introduced to the street at scene in Melbourne. My mate
Hancock has just been given studio space at the famous ‘Blender’ Studios. Sick!
I cycled across town, lights ablinkin’ and he showed me all the stuff he’s
working on (including his plans for my denim jacket!!!!) and introduced me to
some great art and artists (Heesco, you’re the boy!). Tick!
“Excuse me, another strong flat white please!”…(Ummmm…….)
Tonight I am lucky enough to be able to meet another
Plymouth friend. Sally Geraghty. We’ve got a lot to catch up on and I know it’s
going to be great to see her. Tomorrow there's going to be a lot of packing,
downsizing and organising for me to do before I chill at the Napier Street crib
for one final blow out with the Fitzroy crew….this promises to be a pretty
serious party. It’s probably best if I don’t even speculate as to what might
happen eh?!?!?
So, I’ve pretty much come to the end of my trip… Travelling
alone and meeting the people I have has been without doubt the best thing I’ve
ever done. I’ve done things I never thought I would or could do. Got myself
into situations that have surprised me no end and navigated through every twist
and turn without a single hitch so far. I reckon after the year I’ve had I was
deserved of a bit of good luck eh?!
Looking at the odd bits of news that I’ve seen from home I
have to admit that I’m finding it on occasion hard to bite my tongue, but bite
my tongue I will. I have realised I’m not in control and probably never have
been. You simply can’t account for the actions of someone who either no longer
cares about you or maybe no longer cares about themselves, despite seeming
righteous to the last. Yes, sometimes you may have to admit to yourself that in
order to fully devote yourself to an artistic endeavour you may have to give up
a few things, but only if you don't care about them enough in the first place.
We’re not all the Picasso’ we think we are, struggling and raging against an
unfair and cruel world. I suppose however that level of selfish devotion to
ones art should be on some level admired, perhaps I’ll not be doing the
admiring though. I seem to have made it to an OK enough level (still admittedly
miles from were I really want to be) without feeling the need to drop everyone
and everything. I guess life is all about priorities and choices eh?
Well, I made mine! I came to a new land, had a ball, made
great friends, got great kicks and still managed not to hurt anyone as far as I
can tell. Hopefully I’ve learnt enough about my life, how to treat others and
the art of the world in the last five months of mountainous ups and downs that I’ll
be as mindful of peoples feelings as possible. Empathy is such an important
thing. Isn’t it what makes us human?
One thing that is for sure is that nothing is for certain.
Nothing. I’ll probably make some bad choices in my life at some point too but I’ll
try damn hard not to.
As ever, my love and thoughts are with my home crew back in
the gnarly little punk town of Plymouth UK, I’m putting money on the fact that
it’s blood soaked gutters and booze strewn streets haven’t changed a bit! I
cant wait to see you all in but a tiny sliver of passing moments. To my
supportive family, thanks for everything, I’ll be home soon to tell you tales a
plenty.
Goodbye Australia! I love you. It’s been epic. I’ll be back.
Soon hopefully…
…And So it Goes….
xxxxx
