A Confession.

I went to the Establishment last night. You may remember my previous thoughts on people who went to the Establishment, but in my  defence it was their tenth birthday and while I don’t care about that, I do care that it was free food and drinks from 6 til 9.

So really, as you’re already aware that I’m a cheap drunk and will sell my soul for a freebie, it shouldn’t be surprising that I went to the one venue in Sydney I have actually put my disdain for in writing.

Many many thanks to Jess for her perfectly timed, deadpan statement as we left the place.

“It was so packed in there. I felt like a gazelle among the lions!”

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Jen Cloher and the Endless Sea

Yes I’m cheating by recycling material I had published on another website. You’ll get over it.

One of Australia’s great songwriters, Jen Cloher is back from a long hiatus with a new album and a bunch of shows. FasterLouder caught up with her to chat about the new record, the reasons behind her long absence, and why there’s plenty of room for both Josh Pyke and Tim Rogers in today’s music scene.

Jen Cloher and the Endless Sea released their debut album Deadwood Falls in 2006, which was repeatedly named as one of the year’s most impressive debuts and scored an ARIA nomination. Extensive touring followed, supporting the likes of Missy Higgins, Ben Lee and Jose Gonzales among others and they were invited to play at the One Earth Concert welcoming the Dalai Lama. Then everything went quiet.

With the release of Hidden Hands, we learn the truth behind it was that Jen moved to New Zealand for a year when her mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. The busy life of a successful touring artist stopped. “I was all of a sudden faced with myself and a guitar and a blank page without any lyrics on it. And I just thought oh good lord, here I am, I’ve written one album and I’m going to have to write another one. And I don’t know if I’ve got it in me, I’ll just have to find out.”

The quiet life away from friends, shows and city life resulted in a moving and candid collection of songs about Jen’s time in isolation and being powerless as she watched her mother slowly slip further into dementia. “What I was going through at the time was intense. I’m their only child and I’m there to look after them. There’s a lot of change going on in my life – I’m away from what I know, away from my band and my musical comrades. There’s a great deal of isolation and I thought this is what I need to write about. To not do so would be silly. I would have been making up some rubbish that I didn’t really feel that I was attached to in any way.”

Many people would find the thought of such public candour uncomfortable, and I ask if it’s difficult to bare your soul to the public knowing that it’s open to interpretation. People might not take things exactly as you meant them. “Yes and no,” she replies. “I feel very clear about what I wrote and why, and that’s all that matters. I guess the only reason I record songs and put them out there is because I love playing live and it means that you’re given an audience to come and see you play.”

Aside from the obvious financial benefits, this is also why Hidden Hands was recorded live. “When you play live as a band there’s an energy behind the band that you might not necessarily achieve if you lay down one part on top of another. So the song takes on its own life. Also I think because you’re going ‘oh well this is it!’ This is what’s going down so we better do our best!”

The songs of Hidden Hands are incredibly intimate and personal. The album has been likened to reading someone’s diary and in many respects that’s exactly what it is. In the opening track Mother’s Desk (“So I sat at my mother’s desk/Where her first class mind/ was laid to rest”) Jen tells of struggling with her mother’s illness and her own writer’s block. The final track, Watch Me Disappear, is a heartbreaking letter to her mother that Triple J’s Dom Allesio said “destroys my soul every time I listen to it”.

This strong connection to the music is what has been picked up on by reviewers and listeners around the country. Jen’s proud of the strong response, and also that the same people have realised that Jen Cloher and the Endless Sea are a group, not a singer with back-up band. ” The Age called the band magnificent and the Rolling Stone said we were robust. I’m really happy that people have picked up on that even though the songs are of a very personal nature, we are ultimately a band.”

Does this mean that they’re no longer getting put in that – œfemale singer-songwriter’ box that Jen has spoken about before?

“Yes, my lifetime gripe,” she laughs. “Absolutely. I think I’ve always wanted to be in a band and play in a band. I feel that this country is still yet to celebrate a songwriter who happens to be a woman in the same way that Nick Cave or Paul Kelly or Tim Rogers is celebrated. My hope – and I do think it is starting to happen – is that women will just be seen as songwriters as opposed to – œfemale singer-songwriters’, which a lot of people see as a genre.

“You know, what Bertie Blackman is doing as opposed to what Mia Dyson is doing, as opposed to what New Buffalo or Holly Throsby is doing. It’s completely different. The only thing they have in common is that they are all musicians and they all happen to be female.”

Far from banging the feminist drum, Jen just sees it as something we need to grow out of, and it’s up to the media to stop being lazy and take people on their own merit regardless of gender. And for festivals to show acts because they are great acts, not because there’s too many girls on the bill already.

“You don’t go to Rolling Stone and they’ve reviewed Josh Pyke and then have a lengthy discussion about how hard it’s going to be for him because we’ve already got Tim Rogers and we’ve already got Whitley and Ben Lee, and so there can’t be any room for Josh Pyke as well. You just don’t see it.”

It’s a discussion that was well and truly heating up after this year’s Triple J Hottest 100 of All Time, in which almost no female artists were voted into the list. “I think it was really disappointing naturally, but I actually think it was a good thing. I think the most important thing was that it made all of us think about – and tell me if you didn’t have this conversation – the female artists, musicians, songwriters that have shaped your life. And we all ran around going, – œWhat about bloody PJ Harvey or Patti Smith? How the hell did Janis Joplin not get on there?’ It was great there were all of these impassioned conversations going on.”

Jen Cloher and the Endless Sea are touring nationally now, having launched the album in Sydney and Melbourne earlier in the year. “We’re going to pretty much every capital city except Darwin and Canberra. So we’ll be doing our first ever headline shows in Tassie and WA. It’ll be really good. You get to meet the people that are buying and listening to your music, and you also get the opportunity to get better.”

With touring the reason for making an album, rather than the other way around, you can be sure the shows will be good. Playing live is the passion of Jen Cloher and the Endless Sea, and it’s a relief to see their return to Australian stages. Not that there was any danger of them going away for good.

“Leonard Cohen likened being a songwriter to being – œmarried to a mystery’. And I think he nailed it. You know, artists are doing this thing and they’re not sure where it’s coming from or how they’re coming up with the ideas, but you have to do it. It’s like a calling.”

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An apology. Of sorts.

Why is it that as soon a something becomes a “must do” it becomes a “don’t want to”?
I used to write every day. I would wake up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep until I recorded some untimely arrival of thoughts.
Then I got a job writing, and that job destroyed my syntax, bastardised my vocabulary and in the end totally broke me.
Bar a couple of laborious interviews I haven’t written since.
I hope the words come back to me. I don’t want to lose the only thing I have ever been passionate about. I wouldn’t know what to do, or where to start.
So this is me trying not to lose it. If I just start to write -anything at all- maybe it will come back to me. I’ll stop dicking around with my phone on the ferry and scribble in a notebook instead. i’ll stop updating my facebook status, and start keeping a diary.
I’ll stop watching TV shows and start listening to more music (well it can’t all be about writing). I’ll stop consuming and start producing.

And maybe I’ll put some of those things up here, when I feel like I have something worth reading again.

In the meantime I’ll try to be interested enough in the world to put pen to paper.
Yours forever,
Hel

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Alright Alright Soph!

My brain still doesn’t have any words in it. I hope they come back, I miss them a lot. I suppose I could copy and paste some interviews on here but that’s kinda cheating isn’t it?

One day I’ll have something to say .

In the mean time here are some of my favourite photos I’ve taken of late (by ‘favourite photos’ I mean ‘ones that were easy to access on my computer’ and by ‘of late’ I mean ‘ever’).

PS. The photos belong to me. Don’t steal them. Thanks.

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A Passing Aquaintance

Was going through some old back up discs, and found this old story I wrote for my old flatmate’s zine. So instead of the usual ill-informed rants and self-righteous proclamations, you get an actual narrative to read. With characters and everything.

She walked briskly down the footpath, trying to appear more confident than she actually was. Her eyes glanced around to see if anyone noticed her. In reality, it was more to see that people did not notice her. She preferred to remain inconspicuous; another faceless, shapeless entity. As she looked around someone caught her eye. Someone she recognized. Someone she thought she knew. Someone she had known. They had nothing worth being called a history, but it was enough to create an awkwardness. She wanted to say hello, wanted to acknowledge him, and have him acknowledge her. Who knew where it could lead? A simple hello had led them a long way before. She pondered the significance of those two short syllables as her footsteps advanced.  As they drew nearer to each other, recognition seemed increasingly inescapable. Acknowledgement was all she wanted. To not recognize someone was excusable, forgivable. But to be recognized and ignored caused nothing but pain.

They played cat and mouse with their eyes. Snatching glances to see if the other was looking at them, without being caught. As the metres shrank between them there were now few choices left for them. He could smile, say hi- anything in greeting- or he could ignore her. She could do the same. She could also make eye contact and hold it, compelling him to take the plunge. Their childish game ended when their eyes locked. The panic clenched hard in her stomach, squeezing it like an old sponge. He knew she recognized him and she knew he recognized her. They were now seconds away from passing each other. Both now realized that their choices had been made. There was nothing else they could do. They gave each other timid, unsure, half-smiles. Half-smiles that sent a message that they didn’t really want to talk to each other, that they were just being polite. The message couldn’t be more wrong for her. She longed to talk to him, to at least build up something that lay somewhere between an acquaintance and a friendship. Anything to dispel the awkwardness that smothered them whenever they chanced to be close. But none of this got through the closed lipped, sad little smile she gave. As they passed each other his mouth half opened and one word escaped his lips. Barely even a word. More just a sound.

“Hey”.

“Hey.” She replied, just as half-heartedly.

They passed and continued on their way. Both full of regret, neither looked back.

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Lady Gaga is My New Best Friend

Seriously.  LOOK at these numbers. This is all down to Lady Gaga. Out of the 15,679 shown, approximately 15,673 came from google searches for our favourite pantless hermaphrodite. Oh god, why did I write hermaphrodite. Now I’m going to get all the porn searches too… What’s that? Porn has some of the highest traffic on the internet?…PORN PORN PORN PORN PORN PORN TITTIES LADY GAGA PORN.

Tune in next week to see numbers in the MILLIONS.

gaga

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The Biggest Wanker I Have Ever Met

OK first I’m really really sorry Soph and Jez and Jess and Holly. I know I said I’d write more once I quit my job, and then I wrote once. I suck.

But now I have five applications to fill out for cadetships due on Friday and suddenly I feel compelled to write on the Aquarium again! Strange, huh.

Right.  So the biggest wanker I ever met worked at a publishing office. In a publishing office you have the writing people, and the designing people. There really isn’t any rivalry. At all. But Wanker (a writer) thought there should be I guess. I don’t know. There’s a lot about Wanker I didn’t understand.

I feel mean calling him Wanker now. So let’s change his name to Lamb Shank. It sounds endearing, but still has that ‘ank’ sound in there.

One day Lamb Shank came up to my desk and said ‘Hel, who do you reckon’s smarter? Writers or designers?’

‘Um’, I replied ‘I don’t know. They both do different things…’

‘Yeah, but writers have to know stuff, and need a good vocabulary.’ said Lamb Shank.

‘Well, yeah I guess so. But designers have to use all the computer programs and techy stuff that writers don’t.’

Lamb Shank visibly puffed his chest and replied ‘Oh but I can do that shit. I know all that techy stuff too. ‘

‘OK Lamb Shank. You’re smarter than every other person in this office.’ (I was being sarcastic, but I guess I wasn’t clear enough)

“Yeah.” said Lamb Shank, puffing up again. “yeah I am!”

And he turned and strutted back to his office.

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The Gazelle (or ‘The Second Biggest Wanker I Have Ever Met’)

I used to do data entry at a financial company. It was really dull, but it paid well and my Dad worked there which meant I could get a lift in to town and sleep the whole way. I also got lunch shouted for me quite often.
One of our co-workers, on the Sales Team, was a young, ex-professional sportsman who had climbed mountains and done lots of other adventurous things.
He and his buddies liked to go to the Establishment at night. For those that know of this place, you already have a fair idea of our co-worker’s personality. For those that don’t, it is/was a very upmarket, corporate place generally filled with people wearing the “latest office fashion”, and talking about money and gym memberships.
When The Boys would get in the next morning, they’d walk in to the office, point at their friend and say something like “maaaaate! how pissed were YOU last night!!” and then spend the rest of the morning talking about how ridiculously hungover they are. Because, you know, they got DRUNK last night, how cool is that.

Anyway, so the sportsman comes in on a typical morning, and has this tale to tell. It started like the usual boring dross.
“Maaate. I’m so hungover. I was at the Establishment last night…”
So far so normal….
“It was Ladies’ Night. I tell ya man, wall to wall women. Could barely get inside.”
It’s a slight varation on the theme, but still pretty standard.
“I walked in the door, and they were all over me. Mate they were clawing at me!”
Okaaay…
“Seriously man, by the time I got to the bar, my shirt was half open, it was untucked, dude… I felt like a gazelle among the lions!”

gazelle-lionHappy Monday everyone.

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Douchebag.

piers copy

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A new game to play.

Make your own album.

I don’t know if you can post up in comments, but if you can’t, email your albums to hel_davo@hotmail.com and I’ll put them up.

The Instructions:

1 – Go to “wikipedia.” Hit “random”
or click http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random
The first random wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.

2 – Go to “Random quotations”
or click http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3
The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.

3 – Go to flickr and click on “explore the last seven days”
or click http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days
Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

This is mine. I wish I was in a band so I could actually make this album…..

spaceball copy

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