Well, this Lost Shark has been busier than usual this past month, but it has been the best kind of busy imaginable. I have now (just about) finished processing all of the orders received as part of the Ocean Hearted Flood Relief Project and I am thrilled to say, that the response has been staggeringly positive.
So far I have posted off 104 books, totalling a massive $1560 and on top of this, I also received a further $145 in extra donations. And of course, I pledged at the very beginning of this project to contribute $5 for every book sold, so I will be throwing in another $520, which brings the total to $2225.
I cannot thank enough, the 50+ people who got behind this project. Together, we have achieved something that I consider to be remarkable.
So from me and the many Queenslanders who will benefit from your generous support, I just want to say…
On Thursday night I experienced The Thing, live at The Judith Wright Centre as part of their Syncretism series. And I mean experienced, physically!
From the moment Mats Gustafsson, blew the first savage breath into the mouthpiece of his baritone sax, my skin prickled and I was moving, laughing, hooting. Ingebrigt Haker-Flaten was plucking and slapping at his bass strings, at times, stretching them to the point of distortion while Paal Nilssen-Love was a flurry of syncopated rhythms and splashing cymbals. They were out of the blocks faster than a rabbit on a greyhound track, playing for their lives, attacking their individual instruments with equal parts fire and dexterity and in the process redefining the possibility of wood, metal, muscle and breath. The joyous force these three men generated was transformative… the crowd surging along with them until the final silence. Simply put, it was a thrill!
Here’s a clip of the band playing live in Budapest. C’mon, give yourself over to The Thing:
You were in the kitchen, baking.
In the distance, too far away to hear,
the river appeared, coursing through the fabric
of trees, down the middle of a country road.
Turning to your daughter, you leaned over,
burnt caramel on your lips,
and kissed her —
the very hint of bitter.
I am not one for all the nationalistic flag waving that seems to have taken a stronghold in our culture these days, in fact, I find it downright frightening.
I do, however, often celebrate the greatness of this country through poetry & song. So if you are looking for a good hit of Australian sounds today, here’s my tips:
I came across this fantastic archive of Australian & New Zealand poets reading their work as part of last year’s NZ Electronic Poetry Centre’s two-part symposium held in Auckland & Sydney. It features readings by some of our finest contemporary poets – Ken Bolton, Pam Brown, John Tranter, Peter Minter, Jill Jones & last year’s winner of the Val Vallis Award for an unpublished poem, Michelle Cahill. There’s plenty of good stuff to dive into… so head to the NZEPC Page and slip inside a poem or three.
And if it’s Australian songs you want… then here’s my big three:
More than any other album, The Triffids - Born Sandy Devotional, captures the vastness of Australia. Wide Open Road is such an important song… David McComb’s voice still grips my heart tightly and the band ache inside me. It is a song of longing… a song of distance & light.
I recall a schoolboy coming home/ through fields of cane/ to a house of tin and timber/ And in the sky/ a rain of falling cinders
Cattle & Cane is a song you can attach memories to, more like a painting than a story. With it’s elegant acoustic/electric arrangement and distinctively Australian lyric, it has become an important part of the fabric of our sonic landscape.
In 2008, Under the Milky Way was voted by a readers of The Weekend Australian as the best Australian song of the last 20 years. The shimmering beauty of this song is timeless… a true classic. Am so looking forward to seeing the band play a special one off show – A Psychedelic Symphony - at the Sydney Opera House this April with the George Ellis Orchestra. 30 years and The Church are still looking forward…
