*Ryokuchi, Fire Witch, Wog, Pure Evil Trio, The Thaw – Maggotville, Marrickville, Sydney, NSW, Australia – 7th April 2007
Tag: Australia
Music is great! – 2nd December 2004
frequency lab with grey daturas, hit the jackpot, vincent over the sink
waiting waiting waiting at the airport – finally a customs guy finds us and wants to know why jj, yukari and koji have equipment with them – i just tell him they were recording before and have come back to sydney for one night before flying back to japan.
eventually limited express (has gone?) come out and we sheepishly load up the car and drive into the city to frequency lab.
we take everything up and vincent over the sink start pretty soon after – these two guys are great but we only get to check out a couple of songs before hunger calls.
we make it back to see hit the jackpot who are another wonderfully simple band – playing with a complete disregard to anything at all – they’re cool! i’m running around wondering if everything will be ok as the place fills – it looks to me as though the equipment is ropey and the drumkit will fall apart but it’s all there is…grey daturas manage to crank everything up a notch and chris on sound manages pretty well with the noise.
the place is packed now and no one else should be allowed in but it seems the place is getting more and more full as people squash right up to the microphones. a 10 second soundcheck and limited express (has gone?) special show time begins once again with ‘free style riding’ and ‘aloha!’
the grins are wide on everyone around and people are climbing over each other to get a view. the enthusiasm is running both ways as the band crank up the tempo, heat and intensity. jj makes his way into the audience during stop-go and yukari during tiger rock.
limited express (has gone?) finish special show time with another crazy run through ‘talk to me, all right’ and a ripping version of spy which disintegrates into a squall of noise before a jj jump to full stop.
the audience won’t let them go though and beg for more so get treated to a beautiful rendition of ‘drawtoborn’ and another quick run through ‘free style riding’ after which jj and yukari get carried through the crowd to rapturous applause.
everyone is happy!
everything is good!
limited express (has gone!).
jj – “thank you sydney audience! thank you punk rock! we are rock and roll! certainly we will come here again”
yukari – “it is no problem, language or different country, music is great!”
koji – “tonight we rose to the occasion and the last show of the tour was a great show”
Clinton Walker interview – 7th May 1996
Australian Scene Reports – 2nd May 1996
Maximum Rock ‘n’ Roll #156 All Australian Special – 1st May 1996
Arriving in Sydney, Australia I soon made it an objective to find the punk scene here. I found the record stores, the pub venues and slowly fell in with those making it happen. It wasn’t exactly the same as I was used to in Southampton but close enough.
One of the first people I was introduced to was Sean No Deal (his record label was called No Deal) and Bronwyn and I hung out with him, his girlfriend and friends around Newtown sometimes. Everyone was friendly but obviously, I was the outsider and it wasn’t easy to break into this group’s inner circle.
Coming from cold England where we kept ourselves busy doing things so as to stay warm I sometimes found the laid-back attitude of Australians a little frustrating. I thought I could take advantage of this and get involved somehow in making things happen a little quicker. I just had to figure out a way.
I’d already been up on the Central Coast and got into DJing on the local license-seeking PCR-FM where I played the most out-there music that I could find. I’d also stumbled upon the folks behind Phlegm and the soon-to-be-launched What Is Music? Festival.
In hardcore punk terms though, Sean seemed to be the one guy everyone told me to talk to and after doing so I found out that he’s pitched to Maximum Rock ‘n’ Roll about doing an All Australian issue of the fanzine and had already started work on it. Awesome – that sounded like something I could really help out with. I threw around some ideas which were agreeable – ie – go for your life!
In keeping Sean up to date with my ideas I asked for all the contacts he had around the country and then to see what he’d done so far so that I didn’t double up. This is when I found out that next to fuck-all had been done so far and some of that was already out of date. It surprises me that Australians ever get anything done sometimes but that’s also one of the things to love about their laid-back attitude.
I took everything Sean had and decided now was the time to throw myself into something. Bronwyn and I were back in Sydney from the Central Coast, with a baby on the way and me just starting my career in IT. I needed to get this done before the baby was born and do it I did.
About four months after sending off a package of papers, pictures and floppy disks a free copy of the fanzine arrived in our mail and I was quite proud of what I’d managed to achieve in such a short time.
In the end, there were many other contributors who provided scene reports, interviews and information and I was really just the focal point to bring it all together to make it happen.
I’ll add some posts here with some of the interviews I did and the whole magazine is available at archive.org.
The one thing that got pulled from being printed was an interview with Oren Ambarchi and Phlegm and the What Is Music? Festival, which is a shame because that was what I was most interested in at the time.
Rob writes – 31st May 1995
Hope you haven’t been overdosing on all that ‘feeling’ I was trying to put down in my letter!
I’m at work now – 3.05 pm on Saturday 13th May. I can look out of my window, and see the blue skies and the sun shining on the trees, which partially hide a few houses of Anchorage Road housing estate. The portacabin I work in though is cold – it’s in the shade of a two-storey building right next to it.
I’ll no doubt write you more factual things next time. – like the Queers pulling out of their UK tour; seeing Offspring at Brixton Academy – going up in a chauffeur-driven transit (!) with Carl Barry, Dareen, Ashley, Rob Turne, Chrissy and a few other people; going to the Bradford 1-in-12 club last weekend with Rich, Paul J, Hohn Hartsteen, Q. Rob, Matt from Romsey, Andy from Bournemouth, Karen, Vikki and three Winchester guys; or maybe even a few words about how the band is going – we’ve got nearly five songs now and the enthusiasm everyone shows towards it is amazing!
Did I tell you I usually get to Australia every day now – every time I write my diary up of the holiday – everything’s so clear – I made loads of notes which I’m slowly writing up – it’s gonna be an absolutely huge account!
Love
Rob
30th Jan 2024 – I wonder what Rob wrote in his diary? I didn’t remember about Rob keeping a diary but I know Rich ‘The Encyclopedia’ kept one fairly religiously. I was always curious about what he wrote!
Surf’s Up With Shaun – 1st May 1995
Originally printed in the May edition of the STE Bulletin
Sat on a train station in the middle of nowhere, with the sun beaming down from a beautiful blue cloudless (+ ozone-less) sky. What better place to sit + philosophise in these moments spent waiting for the train.
For those who are interested + I know some of you are, Bronwyn + I got ourselves married on March 5th, a beautiful ceremony amongst some of our beautiful friends (we only wished that more of you could come over to share the experience with us because we miss you all greatly).
It was so cool to have an English ambassador over, that’s Mr Rob Callen (of S.T.E. fame) with all the news + gossip we’ve been missing out on since we left. We had several great lengthy discussions, just like we hadn’t seen each other for a week or so + needed to catch up (+ we caught up pretty quickly thankfully, as time was short – time is always too short when you stop + think about it).
Rob coped really well with all the people that he had to meet + this is something that I’d like to comment on. A lot of my new friends + relations have mentioned to Bronwyn just how well I’m coping with this glut of new people. I guess it could be an overwhelming experience for some people + easy to hide away in your own little world + think that it would be easier to deal with it later + then hope the time never comes.
Now I have to say that I’ve met lots of people here, whose ideas + politics do not correspond to mine + probably the main area of possible contention is with religious ideals. A lot of people I have met (now friends + relations) are involved in their churches in one way or another + are in themselves, deeply religious. I guess this is where things have been easier for me, in that no one is preaching or attempting to convert me. This has meant that there has been no contention to speak of, despite the possibility of it. This has led me to understand that people, even people that I don’t agree with, are basically human.
For instance, while Rob was over here, we found several things that we didn’t agree on. Does this mean that I should shun him + refuse to have him as a friend? How narrow my view of the world would become – missing out on all those great ideas (no matter how ludicrous!). So why should I shun a person, a human being, for their beliefs + ideas, even if they weren’t already a friend to me – that possibility will always exist if I choose to keep my mind open. After all, I have a voice + if someone starts to become overbearing, I can ask them to stop or change the subject.
I have a friend here who I met through college. He’s Dutch, 74 + lived through the Second World War. One of the first things he told me, while explaining Australian politics to me, was that he is, what we in England would call a Tory supporter. If I’d cut off our friendship there because I disagreed with his political persuasion, I would never have heard how he survived tuberculosis in a concentration camp + how he sought to escape to England.
These stories + indeed any story you are told, are tales of life + are learning experiences. All information is learning + by purposely cutting your possibilities of information (by rejecting people for their beliefs), you are losing your will to understand + also run the risk of becoming close-minded.
OK, so what about the fascist Nazi, who beats you up in the street for looking like a ‘black loving queer’? It’s not easy to accept this point of view but step back + see the human underneath, see his weakness + find something in that person that you do not hate.
Hate is the most powerful negative emotion a person can feel + hating in return, is not going to find any real long-term solution. Put down your prejudice (including your CRASS + RUDIMENTARY PENI LPs) + open up your mind.
Just remember it’s OK to disagree but it’s wrong to hate. Hatred achieves nothing except the continuance of hatred – something I’m sure we would all like to see an end to.
Finally, some surf news to justify the column title. A cyclone hit Australia while Rob was here, the east just catching the tail end of it. This meant rain, rain + more rain – Rob only saw about 4 sunny days (it’s still warm enough for shorts + a t-shirt though) but this also led to 15-foot waves + some awesome though violent surf (which tragically drowned a man too). During the quiet moments, Rob got out there on the board and caught a few waves, Which I’m sure he’ll be telling you all about.
OK, gotta go, my train’s here – write y’all to x Alanna St, Terrigal, NSW 22xx, Australia.
(In his accompanying letter, Shaun felt certain that some people wouldn’t agree with his view, I know I (Rich) don’t share all his points + to this end, he positively encourages a reply!!)
31st Jan 2024 – I remember this walk to TAFE to study every morning, after catching the train from Gosford. I particularly remember walking behind a pretty girl that I was, one, too shy to talk to and two, still happily in love with Bronwyn. She looked like how imagined an Italian girl to look and her dark black hair was tinted to the red shone when the bright hit it. Strange the little details one remembers. I wonder what life that girl ended up having. I hope she’s happy somewhere.
Hello tomorrow, today – 11th November 1994
We make today a special day (oh, very holy) and decide to head to the beach for the first time in this fair land. We look forward to it all day but its about 4 o’clock by the time we get there, heading south to Cronulla, through the bushy suburbs of the city to what seems like the outskirts.
My eyes are stuck to the windows of the train, our usual journey into the city is lined with factories and industry and where it is suburban all the houses are visible, but here all you can see is trees with the odd corners of houses sticking out or braking the skyline. Some houses are built on steep embankments above small tree infested valleys, stilts sticking out of the floor of the construction, going down twenty, forty feet til finding ground to support from.
Over a bridge over a river with a peninsula in the foreground standing high, along the waters edge, small boat buildings and above, up the windy steps, huge houses nestle in the bush, the wealthy cats must hang out there.
Cronulla, last stop on the line, this train terminates. It’s a blistering hot day but the cool breeze is blowing off the sea to the station and we follow our noses to the beach, past a hardcore record shop where skaters hang out outside listening to the music blasting away, what more could you want? It briefly reminded me of Black Flag coming from Redondo Beach, but with a blink my mind was captured by the sight of the beach, beautiful warm yellow sand in a tiny cove lined by slippery slimy rocks which went off one way round the corner and out of sight and the other leading to the main beach, apparently the longest stretch of sand in the area.
We walked round, past ocean baths, swimming pools built into the rocks and watered by the ocean, a safe swim and if you go to the ocean edge of the pool the wave will bash up against the side and over your head. We carried on, to our left, blocks of flats towered on the small cliff but trailed off as we walked round the corner and the sand started again. We laughed and played like kids in the sand and remembered the times we used to go down to the beach after work, with John, when we lived in England, it being a similar time of day (despite the lateness the sun was still high and hot).
We ventured into the water, very slowly, it was freezing to our little hot bodies, slowly letting it envelope us, but after a few metres the waves became bigger and we didn’t have much choice about getting wet. Once in though it began to feel warm, our bodies adjusting. We watched the other kids body surfing, catching a wave and swimming with it and we attempted to imitate them with little success at first but after a while I caught a wave and frightened myself as I was riding this wave, my head was in front of it and all I could see in front of me was bare sand, no water! I was flying along about two feet above the ground, but the wave broke and cushioned my fall to the sand and I got up, huge grin and back out to try it again.
The next time though we were both stood awkwardly and we got dumped, I went under for about five seconds and all I could see was the white wave all around me, when will I come up!? I found Broni and she got hit bad, dragged along the sand on her back and tumbled into a somersault, she retired hurt and slightly embarrassed, but it did make us realise the power of the water.
I went back in and the waves grew stronger and stronger, one minute the water was knocking round your ankles, the next it was too deep to touch the bottom, big waves which we would never see in England, I managed a couple more rides before getting out and drying in the sun as it slowly set over the other side of Australia.
Then we all flock out together, feeling perky – 19th October 1994
We found the Twilight Zone yesterday – here in Bathurst. You know the one where Joe Normal is in small town Hicksville and everyone is weird!
We went in search of food and drink for lunch and ended up in a small cafe up a side street. We looked over the menu and thought we should be able to get some decent food. We were still deciding when the waitress came over and so we asked for a couple of cups of decaf coffee.
We noticed the unusual size and shape of this young waitress with piggy red cheek jowls and the glisten of swear across her brow and matted hair, a poor girl happy for employment. We stuck with it as she went to find out what decaf was! It was then we decided not to get any food. She came back – no decaf (whatever it is!) so I ordered iced chocolate and Broni ordered an apple, carrot and celery juice.
We waited and waited while the only other customers seemed eager to leave, accepting apologies from the blimp for earlier mistakes that we’d missed. Eventually, after much juicer noise from the kitchen, the blimp brought out half a glass of brown sludge with a diarrhetic dribble on top and apologised that the juicer had broken and that it was only dishing out small amounts she was showing us. We told them to forget it and she brought out my iced chocolate – which looked ok – unfortunately the chocolate was still in powdered form and the milk must’ve been left in the sun.
As I attempted to suck the lumps through the straw, the blimp’s mother came out with the broken juicer, covered in years of old fruit and veg and explained that the machine had broken, offering it up for our inspection. We nearly chucked, paid and left and ran and ran fast! I was worried someone was going to run after us, grab us and slaughter us in some midnight full moon ritual ceremony – phew! Got away for another day.
Give me some gas and the open air – 18th October 1994
So, early a.m. we catch the commuter train with the suits and the smart dressed young ladies into the city to pick up a hire car. Broni handles the controls, this being our first Oz car driving experience together. It’s already a blistering hot day at 9am. Slowly but surely we make it across the city to Wendy’s (Broni’s oldest sister) to pick up some stuff, then on out of the city, where suburbia ends and turns into farms and small town communities.
In the distance we can see the Blue Mountains beckoning us. We stop off for some salad, watching big carrier planes taking off from the army base close by and yippee, I get to take over the controls and charge us through the countryside, to the bottom of the mountains, slowly up, twisting turns, the smell of gum invading our nostrils, sun blazing in blue, oh blue sky faint whisper of cloud.
We catch a brief glimpse from hilltop back to where we came, a breathtaking spectacle but we are still onwards, upwards, through orchard country and then into the real mountains with burnt scrub bushland, crickets screaming out their mad calls deafeningly loud in unison, cancelling out the radio. Road still twisty we balance on the edge of precipices looking into long deep vale valleys covered in black eerie gum tress caught in last years fires, for all the eye can see everything burnt, charred, like a graveyard to the flora, to nature and it’s wonder, each tree stood like a monument proud into the sky, now beginning to show signs of growth again.
For some half an hour we carry on through this beautiful landscape before descending down into the old coal mining town of Lithgow, and from here we drive for another hour across plains and farms to our destination, Bathurst, Australia’s oldest inland city. And here, at Broni’s parents, we make a brief stop before we head out to some places to look at with the intention of finding some place to get married and as usual, with our positive outlooks and thinking we find somewhere quickly that is an ideal place for marriage ceremony and reception so then we high tail round town to try and find a priest who might marry us outside, something which they are not known to do.
We run out of time doing that but not before a quick run up Mount Panorama round the race course there, where some guy got himself killed in the Janes Hardie 1000, going much faster than us I might add. During the rest of the year the course is open like a normal road, with a picnic stop at the top. Weird driving round roads with tyre barriers and red and white caution markers on the corner bumps.
Back to base we lazy away the rest of the evening in conversation and old photographs.
P.S. The crazy natural amphetamine of youth! Ya!
- Main picture taken on top of Mount Panorama with my best man, Rob, March 1995.
1994ever 