Merry Christmas Part 2
A classic Terry Gilliam of Monty Python fame Christmas annimation.
Friday 9 December 2022
Thursday 1 December 2022
Merry Christmas and have a fantastic 2023
It's been a great year here at DVN61 headquartes.
So to celebrate I'm giving links to all my digital works for free.
Just click on the links below.
ART by OTHERS stories by me. Volume 1
ART by OTHERS stories by me. Volume 2
Holidays the Huner S Thompson way.
Tuesday 1 November 2022
The new cat and what became of it.
The new cat.
“The smallest feline is a masterpiece” Leonardo Da Vinci.
I wrote this piece three years ago, now Marlie is an adult.
 |
| Marlie - 6 months old with present for us. |
The naming process took just as long and after many
democratically held secret ballots, it was decided to call it what mum wanted.
So now we had Marlie, a female kitten and new companion to Gracie, our two-year-old Cavoodle.
Then the stark reality set in. Kittens are cute, fluffy, and
weigh almost nothing but I can see all the benefits of getting an older rescue
cat now. I don’t remember kitten’s claws being so sharp, or that you had to
peel them off like Velcro from any fabric surface that hung near the floor. Or,
that they bounce around faster than those parkour guys who jump stairs and
balconies like they’re Spiderman.
For example, I was at my desk typing and I felt something
land on my shoulder then felt the weird contrasting feelings of something
wonderfully soft on my neck and the snake-like
fang penetration of pain in my shoulder. Somehow, the kitten had leaped/ climbed/transported over ten times its
own height from the floor to my shoulder to see what I was doing. I understand
how curiosity can kill the cat, it took all my self-control
to avoid the sheer reflex action and nearly sending the poor thing flying.
Kittens have nature's best self-defense
mechanism. No matter what they do, what they destroy or maim. They only need to
look at you or start playing with anything, a ball,
a feather, a bug, your sock and your heart melts.
At least the dog and cat bonded quickly and I look forward
to another 18 years of friendship, scratched furniture and being ignored every
time I enter a room.
We still miss Tiddles
but welcome to the family Marlie.
Postscript:
Well, the cute kitten grew up to be an arsehole.
She shows afection to everything and everyone by biting or scratching deep burrows in their exposed skin.
Marlie is a beautiful cat to look at. Her mother must have been a pedigree, who got raped by a feral tomcat.
But the dog and her get along so that's one thing.
Pity she kills anything that enteres the backyard, be in by air, tree or on foot.
Origin article appeared in the BBCN June 2018 edition
Saturday 1 October 2022
IN SEARCH OF THE REFOUND
IN SEARCH OF THE REFOUND
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The original crash path coming up the mountain |
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| The Memorial cairn |
The Kyeema disaster in 1938 when a DC-02 passenger plane slammed into Mount
Dandenong was at the time Australia’s worst civil aviation accident,
responsible for the death of eighteen passengers and crew that included
prominent businessmen and a Federal member of Parliment it would result in important
safety recommendations that would reshape Australian domestic air services with
the creation of the Civil Aviation Authority. The new body would be given
increased resources and policing powers. Making it increasingly safer for the nascent
aviation industry.
The crash site itself left a scar on the Western
face of the mountain due to the impact and the resulting fires. But Mother
Nature is a wonderful thing and she and time both heal. So well in fact, that
40 years later it was discovered that the record-keeping was not as detailed or accurate as expected and the
exact location of the original site had been lost.
In the early 1970s questions were being asked and were unable to be
answered by the Department of Civil Aviation’s Investigation Branch due
to incomplete records of the crash, A team led by Macarthur Job was
tasked with righting these discrepancies.
Thanks to leaf litter build-up, bush fires and regrowth over the years the
mountain wasn’t eager to give up its secrets too easily. So, using original
search material documents, local knowledge in the guise of ex Forestry Commission workers, and archive photos
from The Herald and The Sun newspapers taken of the crash site,
the team were able to determine the point of impact in the form of two trees
still standing matching the old photos and a stump where that confirmed some of
the original but vague bearings from the 1938 report. They even unearthed
molten aluminium chunks and various small items overlooked by the original investigation
such as bolts, seat springs and an engine valve.
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| The missing sign |
With the original site mystery solved a stone memorial was erected to
celebrate the 40th anniversary not long after and still stands today
with an additional plaque added in 2003 identifying the eighteen victims.
An accident that if it happened today (albeit in clearer conditions) I
would be able to witness and hear from my backyard in Boronia.
On this realization, I decided to see if I would still be able to find
some traces of the crash another forty years after the rediscovery of the
original crash.
 |
| The sign as it should be |
Having some spare time during my summer break, I made my way up the
mountain nice and early to beat the heavy holiday tourist traffic, which I did
but unfortunately caught all the early morning holiday cyclists instead.
The site, thanks to the previous expedition was easy to find, the memorial cairn is located only a stone throw from the Bourke’s
Lookout Carpark, opposite the memorial is a very informative notice board
packed with interesting data on the crash and subsequent studies.
Behind the memorial cairn is a well-worn and winding skinny track. I
followed this down the steep incline before I checked my bearings and realized
I had descended too far. My inappropriate footwear trying hard to keep a hold
on whatever rock I could find purchase on what to my mind was a 45-degree
angle. Thank goodness for the saplings that I grabbed hold of to stop the
snowball effect of me wiping out whatever lay below me. This of course meant
the hard slog back up again. That’s when I noticed something just off the path.
Two round pine poles jutting out of the ground.
I recognized it as the “Kyeema” Crash Site sign I had seen in my
research but hadn’t to this point been able to find. I had mistakenly assumed
it was part of the notice board display up higher.
The wooden sign that virtually pinpointed the site had been removed for
repair, taken as a souvenir or vandalized I don’t know but the posts remained
with bolts intact leading me to think the latter.
Getting my bearings and using photos on my phone from the book The
Kyeema Disaster by the aforementioned Macarthur Job I found myself
staring straight at one of the trees used to pinpoint the original crash site.
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| McCarther Job's references |
 |
| Relic Number 1 |
I found two of the three landmarks from the crash identified in the 1978 expedition. Though they had been worn down by age and decay there was still enough left to make a match and positively identify them. I was quite proud of myself. Knowing that in a few short years even these last remaining pieces of evidence will vanish into the ground but at least I had a chance to touch an important piece of local
 |
| Relic Number 2 |
and national history.
There is one lingering question I couldn’t find an answer to. If all the
tall buildings in the city have red flashing lights to warn aircraft, why
doesn’t the towers on Mount Dandenong?
Does anyone know?
 |
| original crash investigators 1934 |
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| original crash investigatorssite photo |
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| original crash investigators 1934 |
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| original crash investigators 1934 |
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| original crash investigators 1934 |
Tuesday 6 September 2022
Daffodils are Forever.
Daffodils are Forever.
I like to go for walks, and I like to explore the various tracks, parks and reserves that are nearby. One that I hadn’t walked through, even though I have friends living on its border, is not very far from my house and it’s been the subject of much controversy lately. I refer to the Koolunga Native Reserve.
So off I went to see what all the
fuss was about. My First impression was how thick the bush was from my entry
point which was the car park off Forest Road but when you move along the many
trails also how wonderfully mysterious it could be. I was surprised when I
stumbled across a waterway that winds beside the path that snakes through the
heavy bush. I was unaware this was a drain, it looked so much like a creek the
way it follows its own path, though I did find out later it leads directly to
Blind Creek. The bush eventually opens up and reveals some nice open lawned
areas bordered by huge pine trees. All along the way noticing benches for
sitting and enjoying the scenery. I was surprised by how compact it was but
also how much it was being enjoyed, not just by the number of people strolling
through it but also by the little tree houses made out of fallen branches by
local kids and the water bowls beside trees. Whether they were for dogs or
local fauna, I wasn’t sure. I had a
quick peek at the sign indicating future works regarding the implanting of a
wetland area. So when I got home I decided to look into it a bit more.
Being a local history buff, I immediately got hooked on the fact the park was part of
the original Chandler daffodil farm. Roughly over 50 Hectares
in its prime and to be able to see it now
when the crops were in full bloom on
a sunny day with the Dandenongs in the background would be a sight to behold.
Owned originally by Alfred Chandler, part of the Chandler dynasty that is
responsible for much of the progress and development of this corner of what is
now Knox council can never be lauded enough. It was Alfred’s son Gilbert who probably
had the most influence on the area. As a horticulturist, his tenure as a local
and state politician culminated as a Minister for Agriculture, during this time
under his leadership he led a remarkable advancement in research in many areas
of Farming disease control and primary industry. Gilbert was also a
conservationist of the first order with a
passion for preserving the beauty of the Dandenongs and for being
instrumental in the buyback of the Western face of the Dandenongs to
incorporate it into the National park, thus stopping future development in that
area. He was also responsible for selling the land that is now Koolunga Reserve
to the council on the proviso it remains a natural bush setting. In the 1950s,
other members of the Chandler family sold adjoining land and helped establish
and develop the Boronia Bowls Club. This led to the beginning of housing
development in the area and in 1972 the daffodil farm ceased operations which
led to further development to the point where the only part of the original
property remaining in one form or another is the Koolunga Native Reserve. This,
of course, is a very abridged version of the history and I encourage everyone
to look into the fascinating lives and history of the area and the Chandlers
themselves. There is currently a movement to stop a section from being turned
into wetlands by the council. The section takes up about an eighth of the
existing park. This is where I decided I had an opinion on what was happening.
 |
Wetlands are a good thing, they provide an important resource in the
stability of the local environment for both fauna and fauna. I, however, find
them aesthetically unappealing. Since arriving in the area I have seen three
areas developed into wetlands. Wicks Reserve, the area below the library on
Dorset rd. and the redevelopment of the lake at the Arboretum. Though all
provide important functions, I never felt they added to the original vista. To
me, they made the original messier. Less attractive. With the proposed Koolunga
wetlands, to me, it is not so much how it will affect the area it is in but the
area around it. This brings us back to
the Daffodil farm. Below where the wetlands are proposed lies the open area I
mentioned earlier flanked by pine trees, Originals from the early days of the
daffodil farm that were used as windbreaks, This open area is part of the
fields where daffodils grew and it didn’t occur until it was pointed out to me,
still have the rise and fall of the flower beds. Something you can see more
clearly when the lawn is mowed or from another point of view, on Google Maps
the rows can be seen clearly when viewed from above. Basically. this is the
last remaining area that exists as part of the original farm and from what I
can ascertain is in the path of heavy machinery to construct the earthworks to
build the wetlands. I’d like very much
to see this part preserved and perhaps a historical marker or board proclaiming
what this particular area was a small part of.
I sincerely hope that a compromise can be made, we are in an enviable
position where our local history is treasured and incorporation of the old with
the future is always an option.
That, and the fact that I really hate those wetland boardwalks.
previously published in the BBCN September 2022
More info
Thursday 1 September 2022
I was in a band once......Redux
This is a history of the bands my mates and I started in our late teens and the journey we took over the following years- mainly 1979-1983. It was a short but eventful period in our lives that I decided to document in a series of posts back in 2007 on the redbubble artist site. I have posted it to this blog previously exactly as posted back then on the RB site but with an epilogue. This time I've augmented it with music from certain gigs and added another postscript. The music samples are primitive recordings done by throwing a hand held cassette recorder on the stage at the time of performance and no effect has been put into improving the quality. So you have been warned.
I was in a band once......
Part 1- The very beginning.
I love music I think I’ve established that, but I’m not that great a guitarist , after 30 years you’d think I’d improve but alas I will admit
I’m average, I know this because
when I get drunk and try to play it comes out a horrible mess, terrible and not
even close to what I think I’nnm playing. On this basis, I conclude I could never make it as a rock
star. It is a well-established fact only the best can play stoned, pissed,
ripped or hung over. How many times have you read or heard of Hendrix, Cobain,
Townshend, Clapton, Page or Slash (all Heroin addicts) playing or for that
matter not remembering playing because they were off their tits. And because of
this, I think I never progressed because I don’t like drugs much and quite
frankly I’m scared of needles. But really, that’s irrelevant I just don’t think I had what it took. Oh,
and as my kids keep telling me, I’m a crap singer.
Back in
the late 1970’s I teamed up with some guys who shared similar tastes in music, similar
being a very broad term. We’d do the usual thing hang around and amaze ourselves with our latest
discovery or get drunk and sing along at loud volumes at parties or each other’s houses. Jim and Al were
private schoolboys, Jim had one of those embarrassment proof personalities and
fancied himself a great singer (particularly when he was drunk) Al was a gentle
giant who always seemed excited about one thing or another . He and I shared a
love of guitar, which neither of us could barely play. Al and I would try and
teach each other riffs and licks we would get off other people on our
acoustics. Then one day Al come in with a brand new electric guitar, some
no-name band Les Paul copy, I was in love it was a shiny piece of magic, I’d only held an electric in a
music shop, never played though because it was embarrassing being upstaged by
12 year olds playing Dire Straits riffs. Roger was a guy whose brother had
joined a monastery and left Roger with the coolest record collection I’d ever seen and he secretly
harboured a desire to be a rock star. He’d tried being a singer in the early years of High School and still had
the microphone he’d bought.
Not long
before Al bought his electric guitar, Roger had gone down to Tasmania to visit
relatives and teamed up with a cousin who played the guitar . Roger and he
jammed together with Roger playing cardboard drums. When Roger came back to Melbourne,
he had tapes and couldn’t stop talking about his jams. Roger’s brother-in-law heard these
stories and brought round an old Gibson SG copy he had in his shed from years ago to
see if he could use it. What this culminated in was me with this shitty SG copy
with an action almost an inch high at the 12th fret, Roger on cardboard and
pizza trays and Jim singing to Led Zeppelin bootlegs one Saturday night when we
decided we should form a band.
Normally
these things disappear the next morning when everyone has sobered up but that
next night at the youth club the excitement was fever pitch. We threw the idea
at Al who almost had a seizure. He could get us a place to practice with amps
and a drum kit. This was the ultimate wet dream and to top it off Al had just
got his licence and was going to drive us everywhere. Roger was a bit coy, he
knew that real drums and cardboard drums tend to have a bit of a difference in
application, But this was taken care of too. The practice hall had a bass
guitar as well. Our drummer and the only really talented member came in the
guise of one Jessie - my Sri Lankan neighbour who was a naturally talented
musician who had a passion for Elvis but no one to play with. Problem solved.
Then Jim sidled up to the guys running the youth club and advised they were
having a band night in 3 weeks, the band was free. In the course of 1 week, we had a band a place to practice and a venue
to play. Now we needed some songs.
Honest, it
happened that fast. We made a pact the songs had to be heavy and easy to play, Jessie
had no say he didn’t like our music anyway, he just wanted to play. Al took care of this
pretty much as well , He had written 3 tunes all re-workings of Bachman Turner
Overdrive riffs we knew, I added Wild Thing by the Troggs and Communication
Breakdown by Led Zeppelin . Jim added some lyrics to two of Al’s tunes one about being on the
dole (which we were) and picking up the wrong girl at a party (a common
occurrence for Jim) while Jim and myself penned the words to Adolescence in my
backyard. Our first practice was a mess due to Jessie’s insistence of bringing his
whole kit rather than using the crappy one at the practice venue. Jessie loved his drums and had two kits and a bongo set up that had
morphed into one mega kit. It took forever to pack transport and set up, but
boy could he play. Much of the first practice was getting Jessie to calm down,
Me to try and learn bar chords and teaching Roger the basic fundamentals of
Bass Guitar. Somehow just the power to make such noise was a rush and all other
annoying aspects forgotten.
We would
practice every Saturday morning and Wednesday night trying to pad out the gig
so it would last at least half an hour. Word was spreading that a band was
playing on Sunday Night at the Youth club with a minimal door charge, and with
being 1970,s Melbourne this was about as exciting as it got on a Sunday, the
pubs still weren’t open on Sundays yet. We named the band Metal Magistrate and painted
two faux gothic M’s on the front of Jessie’s bass drum. The name was a settlement of an argument Jim wanted Metal
cigarette case and I wanted Mental Magistrate, so we compromised. On the night
we begged if we could use the practice venue gear and Al managed to get them
all to the gig, we set up in the afternoon. We performed on a high stage in a
school hall. I played out of a 15 Watt amp on one side Al with his 20 Watt amp
on the other and Jim and Roger both plugged into a 30 Watt bass amp. Jessie
wasn’t miked at
all that would have been a big mistake. Our biggest worry was hoping we could
play over him. As the time approached the crowd grew and grew till there was 10
times the normal attendance, we freaked , even Jim was having second thoughts. It almost come to a head when some door nazi said we had to pay to get
in and play and we were thinking of using this as an excuse not to play.
Left to Right: Danny, Jim, Jessie,
Roger
To pad the
show out we had got Jim to do a monologue with my guitar and tried a version of
We Will Rock You by Queen. Due to the primitive equipment and nervous people on
stage they sound was muddy but we made it through at one stage Jim being mobbed
on stage when he invited others to sing the chorus of Wild Thing with him.
After we finished to modest applause and disbelief, some of the crowd jokingly
shouted encore, so we played 3 songs again and Jessie did a drum solo. The didn’t yell encore again. All up it
went well with most people who came thought we were a comedy act. But we were
bitten, we were going pro.
Or so we
believed.
Left to Right: Jessie
Roger & Al
METAL MAGISTRATE 1979: Wild Thing (Troggs Cover)
Part 2 – Not what I expected.
One thing was painfully obvious after the first gig. Groupies were a
myth.
Not one girl even came up to make an enquiry. I
would have been happy with a simple “You were shit”
Sadly it was a trend that would haunt our
careers. But as for the band; we were all bitten by the bug, even Jessie.
But Al was bitten hardest, he wanted to form his
own band with other guys from his school.
In one fell swoop, we lost our equipment,
transport and our practice room.
As well as having no lead guitarist, Jim had
managed to get off the dole and find work, so practice was often held without
Jim.
Roger at this stage had stepped up a notch, his
ambition to play had turned into an obsession and he bought himself a bass
guitar out of the “Trading Post” and practice was now held in his garage.
There was no way I could carry the guitar role
off by myself , so Roger asked his old band member.
Russell who had moved out of the area a year
earlier was eager to play with his old mate . How anything was achieved during
this period is still amazing with Russell living so far away and nobody having
a licence to drive. It was usually a patient brother or sister who dropped
everyone off at practice and picked them up again especially Jessie with his
huge drum kit.
With Russell in the band they and with practice,
they were able to play more complicated pieces, though they had to knock back
Russell’s suggestions of Jimi Hendrix material.
Much like Metal Magistrate we still liked to
play our own material. I had taken up writing simple tunes and covering them up
with an overdrive pedal. To my surprise the others like them. Mainly because
they were easier to learn and you didn’t have the problem we had with covers. People saying it didn’t sound anything like the record.
One thing that probably has to be noted at this
point was we were either at school or on the dole so the only thing that
actually kept us excited was the band, and it was contagious. In the space of 3
weeks after the Metal Magistrate gig, 2 more bands were in the process of
practising and using the Youth Club as their venue.
Even though Jim was unable to make it to a lot
of practices we were confident we were improving on our original gig.
We called ourselves KASHMIR which was chosen by
Rogers older brother (the same one who became a monk) because Metal Magistrate
was too pretentious (?).
When Al ‘s band RACK announced their first gig at the local youth club, Kashmir
was asked to support.
On the day of the gig, Al informed us that his
band had hired a public address system for the night and hit us for part of the
costs then set themselves up first making it difficult for Jessie to construct
his ever growing drum kit
We eventually pushed all their gear to the back
and hoped for the best.
When the crowd rolled in the fear factor rose
somewhat ,even more, people than the last gig had turned up, of course, the
Youth club increased the price, none of which we saw.
Then the next piece of an already compelling
farce came through the door, It was Jim and he was pissed.
It was the first time our band had used a P.A
and Al’s band let Roger and Me plug into their amps.
The gig was a shambles.
Kashmir wasn’t rehearsed enough, (Duhhh!)
My guitar broke on the first note of the first
song, at first I thought I broke a string but discovered the who machine head
had fallen apart. ,
Mandy Brown (a late addition as a backup singer
), as well as Jim, couldn’t hear what they were singing.
None of the Band could hear what they were
playing due to no foldbacks and the mixer sat in front of the speakers. So, all
the audience – which was close to 150 – heard was a mess.
Russell was told by the mixer to keep turning
his amp up because his speaker was actually behind the mixing desk. (the mixer,
by the way, had a graphic equalizer on his stereo, that’s how he got the job)
Roger actually sang one song because Jim didn’t know it.
Kashmir was blown off stage by RACK who were
smart enough to fix all the problems before they went on stage. Important
lessons were learnt, the support act is scum and always do a soundcheck.
We were shaken but not knocked down.
Left to Right: Jim, Danny, Roger
& Russell
Part 3- You’re in, you’re out!
My second
gig in my newly named band was embarrassing.
Al’s band RACK was heaps tighter and
actually played songs people knew. Jim had gotten us in trouble because he was
pissed and threw up in the car park. He was having girlfriend problems. There
was never a chance of getting groupies if we continued to play like this. We
needed a new strategy. In the short time since the band had started Rogers
playing had improved, (my own was progressing slowly) he had also taken to
searching out new songs (that mainly suited his tastes) and painted banners to
place behind the band for live performances, which he kept in his garage. We
all made a conscious effort to practice more as we were clearly not ready the
last time we played.
I was now working in as a factory hand, so I had cash coming in and
bought my first electric guitar a Maton Telecaster copy. Lovely to play but a
bit tinny, thank goodness for fuzz boxes. Jim was missing more practises due to
his working in the city and Roger was usually organising them at times that
were inconvenient for Jim to attend. Jim who at the time was obsessing about
his ex-girlfriend was constantly drunk or whining about her. This culminated in
Jim being sacked by the band, something I was not big on but it was a band
decision, this was my first experience in band manipulation and should have
paid more attention because I would be next.
I met a guy
called Tony before starting work at a drop in centre I went to near home, he
had great parties and I introduced him to Jim’s exgirlfriend, he said he always
wanted to sing in a band so I offered him the job. He turned up at the next
practice much to the other guys' surprise and announced he was the new singer,
we tried a few songs , he could sing , he got the job.
The hard
part was telling Jim who was still a good mate that we had a new singer and by
the way, he was dating your ex. Stressed times indeed. It was easier to get
drunk and listen to mournful songs. I’d written a few songs with Tony and the band was still doing a 50-50 mix
of originals and covers. I was starting to miss practises as I was the only one
working (the others were still at school or college) and I couldn’t be shagged running home and
missing dinner. I was also spending more time with Jim as we had more in common
and also Al who had been kicked out of his own band about the same time as Jim
got the boot. Al said he got the boot because he went to the wrong school. The
real reason was the other guys had a mate they liked better they wanted to
join.
Al had
gotten himself a girlfriend he met at a party who lived on the other side of
town and Jim hooked up with one her friends, I tagged along because they were
nice people who had great parties. It was during one of these sojourns that I
missed that one too many practises and was informed by phone that my services
were no longer required. I called them a pack of cunts and told them they can’t do that. I was wrong and
totally deluded if I thought they couldn’t. A revenge band of Jim, Al and me were out of the question.
Al had sold his guitar and both Jim and he was spending a lot more time
on the other side of town. It was getting tedious and quite frankly the girls
weren’t that hot
so I tended to stay on my own side of town and go back to my old crowd, in the
process nicking Tony’s girlfriend
for myself. Now this girl’s best friend was Mandy who sung back up at the Kashmir gig, and her big
brother was a great guy who had only just started going to the local youth
club.
James was a big Teddy bear with a great sense of humour and a bigger personality, he is still my best friend to this day and we both were groomsmen at each other's weddings. I was drawn to James as many people were as he was fun to be with and life was never boring with him around. James was a Rolling Stones fanatic and we would sit for hours rediscovering the entire Stones back catalogue. He had a trick where he would play his harmonica and make his dog howl along. I use to take my guitar around and jam. Me , James and the dog.
Meanwhile,
Roger and the band had managed to secure a gig at his High School as part of an
“Express Yourself “ week or something like that and
they needed someone to mix the sound. So he asked me. I had realised long ago
with Roger that he somehow had a distinct separation of friendship and band
matters and he asked because no one else knew what how to do it , that and the
bastards were playing half a set of my songs. The gig was quite a good
performance and they carried it off well, it did get a bit grating when Tony
kept referring to myself as our mixer and writer of our next song several
times. Hell, it was good to get credit, because I knew we weren’t getting paid. Tony celebrated
the end of the gig by announcing he was leaving the band.
Thank you
and goodbye. I don’t think they
ever saw him again.
*Part 4- The move sideways off
the ladder.*
Roger’s brother’s 21st was coming up and he
wanted a band for the party, Roger would have had the ready-made answer except
that he no longer had a singer and his guitarist (Russell) was in Bali with his
family. Guess who came knocking on my door?
Roger wanted to know if I wanted
to put a combo together for the occasion, also asking what Jim was up to. I
told him I was good for it but Jim wouldn’t sing because of his preoccupation with his new girlfriend. That and
the fact he wouldn’t sing in any band Roger was in unless Roger's head was on a spike out
the front.
I made the mention of James and how we’d been jamming together with his dog, and I could see Rogers brain
ticking over.
All right I’ll ask him I said.
James had a good voice and could play a little guitar so he was interested; he
even contributed a couple of songs. Jessie was more than happy to join in there
was only one catch, he couldn’t use his Mega kit, amazingly enough, he agreed and used a standard
Bass, snare, tom and high hat ensemble.
We put together a basic collection of Stones and Kashmir standards. Roger who
had been learning guitar and stockpiling songs, played half the set and I
played bass on those numbers. We went over well and had a good night. Of
course, any chance of starting something with James got squashed when I had
found out that during our practices Roger had been working on James to join
Kashmir.
Roger told him that he had just got another guitarist- Singer to play alongside
Russell and they were going to start lining up work. The new member was a guy
called Chris who was the bigger brother of Rogers best mate at school. He was a
nice enough guy but most importantly he was a Roger clone.
Left to Right: Mandy, James & Chris
KASHMIR 1981: Everything I Need (Bad Company cover)
I was getting used to being
Rogers band pimp by now, every time he runs out of singers or players, I’d get him a new one.
It was my own dumb fault they were still mates.
Then it happened again soon after.
Jessie’s big
brother had gone to Sri Lanka and came back with a wife, Jessie said the band
would play at the wedding celebration.
Chris wasn’t ready and Russell had only just got back so I played the first set
instead of Chris.
It wasn’t the sort
of gig the band were suited to and no one danced until the band stopped and
they started playing records.
That’s where I
and Kashmir parted ways, with most of our friends turning 18 or 21 there seemed
to be plenty of work for the band and they were actually getting better.
Roger was no doubt in control and Chris was his right hand man, both non
smokers and not much for the drink. James and Russell were as thick as thieves
and were huge fans
of getting totally wasted at every single opportunity.
Jessie didn’t socialise with the band and only saw them at practice when necessary
or at a gig.
During this time I was a regular at their gigs, let's face it, most gigs were at
a party. Jim had come back on the scene after breaking up with his girlfriend
on the other side of town and would often be out with James and Russell and
others getting bent. Things were going along quite well for the band who were
now even getting paid for their efforts.
Then Jessie dropped a big bomb on Roger.
Jessie was a talented drummer a few members of his family were talented musicians including his
younger brother who was becoming an excellent bass player. The Sri Lankan
community in Melbourne has always been quite large and close-knit so when Jessie
and his brother were approached to join a professional Ceylonese cover band
they didn’t need to be asked twice. Jessie only joined the band because he was my
next door neighbour and a friend he didn’t even like the music. Most of the songs he didn’t even know the names to. So
the band often practised in set list order to avoid trying to tell him what
song was next.
Roger no longer had a drummer,
The band couldn’t work.
 |
Left to Right: (I.Q=0) Jim, Danny & Gracie
I.Q=0 : Adolescence
Part 5-
One last shot (with a big gun)
Though I had no involvement in Kashmir anymore the
loss of Jessie as a drummer would have implications resulting in me starting
another band.
Roger was keen to keep the band going so he advertised for a drummer in
the local papers.
One of the people who missed the cut was Andrew
a pseudo punk and a neighbour of Tony the disappearing ex Kashmir singer.
He had a brother who was in an up and coming
band who were being courted by Record Labels. (this never happened as they were
in a car accident just before they signed and it all collapsed) and I think he
was somehow destined to live in his shadow.
Kashmir eventually found a drummer in John ,
though nowhere as good as Jessie he was competent and did what he was told.
Like all good drummers should.
One thing I reckon that Roger never really
latched on to during this period was how instrumental James was to the
continuation of the band.
James was a hugely popular guy and with Russell
had a large network of friends through their ability to find a party in
anything. James held band practise at his flat that was more of a drop-in party
centre than home.
This network supplied parties and ultimately
work.
During this time as mentioned earlier, Jim was back hanging around and
both he and myself would constantly be bagging Kashmir on how serious they had
become. I suppose I must single out how serious Roger and Chris had become
because James was often more times than not in for as much as he could get out
of it. With Roger there was always an emphasis on what the crowd wanted and
which songs were for dancing and which songs were for quiet times, bullshit
really, so Jim and I decided to put a band together to do it how it was meant
to be: Simple, stupid and fun.
We hatched a plan. Kashmir’s first gig with John was going to be held at the
old Youth Club a venue that had been unavailable for some time due to
renovations. We enlisted the services of Andrew the reject drummer from Kashmir
and named our selves I.Q =O pronounced eye kew equals zero. And we would crash the Kashmir gig as the support. We made no secret
of our playing we informed Roger that the Youth club had accepted us.
We just wouldn’t tell him what we were playing or how we were playing.
This drove Roger nuts, Russell and James thought
it funny. We even put up posters everywhere saying things like I.Q=O in Sydney
soon coming to Chadstone, or Kashmir & I.Q=0 in London coming soon to your
town. Anything to bump up the numbers. We rehearsed the week before the gig
using acoustic guitars and a drum pad, why we didn’t do things this way, in the beginning, is beyond me, it was so easy and
quick. Jim and I decided to do all our songs Kashmir were
still doing in their set and change the words on others. Because Andrew was
such a pain in the arse we decided to only use him on 5 of the songs. The plan
was to start as a folksy acoustic duo and finish as a hard-core punk band in
the course of 8 songs. When the night came Roger kept asking what we were doing we didn’t let anyone know, but we made sure we did a soundcheck beforehand. Al
rocked up early and we asked him to control the levels of the mixer for us, he
said he’d be
honoured and to his credit did a sterling job. The crowd was one of biggest yet
at the hall, I don’t know if they were expecting something special or it was the usual
nothing to do on a Sunday night in Chadstone thing.
Jim and I jumped on stage early and the crowd
weren’t expecting us because all the hall lights were
still on.
We started with Leprosy and then moved onto a rendition
of Hey,Hey My, My by Neil Young (since it was his idea we stole the soft to
Ultra heavy theme from) We renamed it Ho, Ho Hee, Hee Jim playing the worst
harmonica he could. By this time I think the audience was starting to get the
picture as we went in our version of Knockin’ On Heavens Door. We then introduced Andrew to a sort of Middle of the
road ballad called YUK from our Metal Magistrate set. I used nice clean guitar
sounds at this stage Jim was winning everyone over with his ad-lib and happy banter.
Then we turned on the overdrive.
The crowd probably thought we were one of those
bands that play in coffee houses up until that moment. Because we had no bass
player we had miked up Andrew’s bass drum for bottom-end attack. The crowd loved
it and were jumping up and down we were as sloppy as shit but they loved it
even though we wrote the song Circus the night before. Then we ripped into our
new version of Adolescence. By this time Roger and Co had realised we were
doing songs from their set and were screaming out rip off. Jim quickly reminded
the audience
” the song done by the originals is always better, remember that later on
tonight folks”,
and the classic
“We used to members of the next band but we all got kicked out, probably
too higher standard “
We finished with our version of Advance
Australia Fair morphing into Wild Thing something we did in Metal Magistrate
and another part of the Kashmir show that they used as a highlight. When we had
finished the crowd screamed for encores and Jim yelling back
“ We don’t know any more songs”
So like in the Metal Magistrate gig we just played a couple of songs
again.
To Kashmir’s credit, they played a good set, even though we reminded them that we
warmed up the crowd for them.
We had a ball and did exactly the same thing
again a couple of months later at the next Kashmir gig, the highlight would
have to be accused of ripping off material, even though we wrote it. We decided
to end it there mainly because Andrew was an annoying a person that ever could
be put on this earth.
I think we needed to do that to get it out of
our system and say at least we did it.
Left
to Tight: Chris, Roger, Joh, James, Russell
KASHMIR 1982 : After The Rain (Angels cover)
PART 6- GROWING UP.
After that last attempt I sort of lost the spark, I
had a full time girlfriend who frowned on the time dedicated to silly pursuits,
even though Jim and I would sometimes ambush a party when I would grab the
guitar out of the car and do a couple of numbers.
Kashmir went from strength to strength and was recording demos for
working in the pubs when James decided he had had enough and disappeared down
the coast, without James support Russell chucked it in too.
The band split up.
Roger and Chris formed a three piece with one of
Rogers’s school friends Michael on drums and asked me to
play keyboards at their first gig. It
was fun but I didn’t do it again and lost
contact with Roger for a while.
THUD IN THE DARK
Left to Right: Chris, Michael and Roger
Thud In The Dark : Echo Beach (Martha and the Muffins Cover)
The band didn’t last either . Some years later Michael committed suicide due to mental health problems.
James sang all over the place with anyone who
would jam and both he and I busked in Kings Cross one night on a tour up the
coast to visit family.
James then went walkabout all over Australia for the next 5 years. He
was best man at my wedding.
Russell never played in another band
again.
Jessie went onto play cabaret and earned a good
living.
I met up with Roger about a two years later he
had finished his course and was now an accountant and met a girl who sang and
they were in a pub band together. He invited me to come watch. I did; the Bartender and me one Sunday night in a
pub in Doncaster somewhere.
Roger eventually married this girl and I was
groomsman at his wedding.
Jim went onto be a school teacher teaching
English. He released an album in the mid 2000s with a fellow teacher who was a multi-instrumentalist and producer under the name Head Set and on it is a version of the first song we ever wrote Adolescence.
Al went onto be a General Manager of an
Electrical Engineering firm.
Roger was also a General Manager of a large
Company but gave it up to be a teacher at an alternative education school.
It was a good experience and it only happened
over the course of 2 or 3 years but a lot of lessons were learnt, a lot of life
long friendships made and memories to cherish.
If I had my time to do it all again?
Shit yeah
but I’d probably take singing lessons.
One off line up of KASHMIR (L to R) Russell: Guitar, Jessie: Drums, James: Bass Roger: Harmonica, Danny: Guitar. Chris (obscured) sitting
*Epilogue*
When we started back in 1979 in our flannel
shirts and runners with our cheap instruments, proudly wearing our influences
of Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Neil Young and the Sex Pistols on our sleeves.
Who would of thought we would predate Grunge by a good 10 years in attitude if
not style. I believe that is why, even at the age of 30, I felt an attachment
of sorts, a kindred spirit you could say with Kurt Cobain.
This is something I wrote in another journal
about him:
I was sitting watching some kids show nursing my
newborn baby daughter when a video clip for Nirvana came on. “Smells Like Teen Spirit” It was like hearing Time & Pretty Vacant all
over again. The power, the anger, the cheeky smirk. This is magic, like punk
but not as primitive, I couldn’t wait to hear more . I rang up my mate Russell who
I played with years ago and he had heard it too and was equally charged.
Everyone wanted to pick up their instruments and
play again.
I still remember the day I heard that Kurt
Cobain had topped himself and feeling a great sense of loss.
I must admit the whole grunge thing was a
momentary relief, our wives let us make some noise for a while but parenting,
breadwinner duties took over again.
Even at 45 he's still my Elvis , my John Lennon,
silly poor bugger, he had everything why did he have to blow it all away.
Go Figure.
Thank you everyone who got this far and wallowed
in my indulgence.
Danny
Epilogue Part 2
September 2022
Here I am 17 years later, I still play my guitar most days and I still love my
music.
A lot has changed since I first wrote this article and as I pen these
words Roger’s daughter’s band and my own son’s band have just released new singles and videos and are getting
attention locally. They are both
infinitely better musically than their fathers were at the same age, but that
is irrelevant. We both encouraged our kids to love music, the way they wanted
to do and support them accordingly.
Originally serialized on www.rebble.com in 2007, the again in 2008 on my webpage.
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