Category: music

Bound

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

High school classmates, Ben Arnold and I first attended the Southbound Music & Camping Festival in 2011 as passengers in mum’s 2005 Lancer. At that point our main goals were to find a well-placed camping spot (successful), set up our tent properly (not so successful), and palm off the half a watermelon mum so lovingly packed on our behalf without telling us (I ate it later with a teaspoon).

Southbound back then felt very much about image – the fact I was even there felt like it said something about the sort of person I was, and the sort of music I listened to. The reality was I’d barely heard any of the bands who played, and with Ben a bit of a music nerd we were maybe the least cool people in a literal field of cool guys and girls.

Older and wiser, we made the trip down the highway to Busselton again in 2016 with an entirely different perspective on what Southbound had the potential to be.

For Ben, now frontman of WAM Award winning indie-rock four-piece Verge Collection, playing the festival represented the culmination of years’ of hard work and gigs played alongside everyone from Mercury Award winners to slam poets at the local Hellenic club.

I’d drifted in and out over the years. We did Japan in 2013, but I moved to Geraldton in 2014 and had all the jobs since. Where I could I went to see the band play, but this was by far the biggest moment I could remember being present for.

With artist passes in tow, Verge Collection playing Southbound was the resolution of a story which started in the back of a Mitsubishi almost six years earlier – I thought our cred might be enhanced now one of us had actually achieved something (and with the other tagging along for the ride).

I learned some stuff:

  • Musicians are people: The best thing that happened to me at Southbound 2011 was when I bumped into Yacht Club DJs and had a photo with them. We didn’t really talk, I didn’t know what to say, but I walked away a lasting memento of a meeting I felt I really wanted to remember for some reason.Granted in 2016 I had a photo with Wil Wagner. He was good enough to give me the time of day to chat and introduce me to some of the other people he knew there. Like a normal person would. Because he is a normal person. Because it turns out that’s what musicians generally are.The experience could only be further amplified for Ben, who is also a real live person but also a musician. It’s a far cry from 2011, when as 19-year-olds there was no greater thrill than meeting a musician you idolised. Still trying to work out if this change is a good or bad thing, or just a thing that happened.
  • Festivals are stupid expensive: The tickets, the drinks, the food, the merch. As a 19-year-old I think I bought all of it. Not really sure how. I can’t speak for Ben but it was probably with mum’s money – it wasn’t enough for her to drive us there and buy us a watermelon, I had to do that too. Sorry mum, if you’re reading.
  • Early sets matter: In 2011 Ben and I wandered relatively aimlessly for the first few hours of the festival, without much to see. In 2016, Verge Collection was literally the second act to perform.I thought they killed it, by the way. They pulled a huge crowd for their set time, and they absolutely nailed the set before closing with a yob rock classic. As a friend it was really cool to see people engaging to the point of climbing on other peoples’ shoulders.2011 festival us would have missed that set all together.
  • People climb on other peoples’ shoulders: I never understood why they actually do that. Personal space isn’t something people seem to value at music festivals, but I noticed it more in 2016 than in 2011. I’m probably getting old. One person was convinced I was a police officer and kept grabbing my jacket. If I was a cop, why would you grab my jacket? We spent a lot of time away from the crowd because of what the crowd was.

But most of all, I learned that thing haven’t really changed that much at all. Ben got to play this one, and I knew a few more of the bands then I did before, but really when it came down to it the only real difference was the casual acknowledgement and acceptance that we probably weren’t going to fit in. Before the day had even ended we were back on the road towards Perth, and by the time we reached Bunbury the chapter had drawn to a close.

At least we didn’t have to hitch a ride home this time.

Liners

11102016172739-page-001
Beauty may have killed the beast, but Airbnb killed the travel plans briefly

For the last few weeks I’ve been sleeping lightly, waiting for a post-bedtime email from Mac DeMarco and an invite to extend my US adventure to the west coast.

Last week the phone did go off after midnight. But it wasn’t Mac DeMarco and it wasn’t good news – my New York Airbnb, originally booked in March, had cancelled.

As someone who needs to be extra organised at all times to account for an unavoidable habit of losing personal belongings and stuttering through basic administrative tasks, losing the Airbnb was not a good situation to be in.

It was a sleep depriving bummer which set in motion a brief series of thoughts that ended in my being completely overwhelmed with the whole concept of the trip and everything around it.

Thankfully the thoughts were fleeting, the refund came +10% and the now-booked replacement Airbnb looks far nicer than the original.

Sometimes things work out and sometimes they don’t, but I’m getting a really good vibe from the newly locked in ‘Spacious Bushwick Room A’. The name says it all. It even has a built in wardrobe.

So while the room situation is sorted a little of the hesitation remains. I’m only there three weeks, for some it wouldn’t be a big deal but a few things are honestly weighing on the mind.

I’m not going to sit here and pretend these factors are going to get in the way of a fantastic trip – I’m sure they won’t – nerves are a part of the experience and a human thing which humans tend to do.

The following got me thinking hard:

Travelling solo

It’s not as though I’m going to get through the whole trip without having a conversation (measures in place to avoid this), but there are certain challenges in travelling alone.

How do I get in the photos I take if I’m the one who has to take them? Will someone steal my new camera if I ask them to take one for me? Will I ever be able to prove I was actually there? Does it matter? It probably doesn’t.

Sheer size

It feels kind of like the first day at a new primary school, except instead of 20-25 similarly aged kids wearing weird off-green blazers and scuffed up leather shoes it’s 8.4 million New Yorkers going about their lives.

From previous travels the reality of the situation is a lot like the first day at a new school – the nerves disappear pretty quick and all of a sudden you’re eating bagels and playing handball with the best of them.

For now it’s a little daunting. Working on some mad trick shots so they know I’m legit.

What if it’s not an amazing adventure?

Honestly the Mac stuff feels like a bit of a long shot now but I’m sure I’ll find things to make it so. It was never really about that anyway. Will keep manically checking my sleeves until I find something else up there.

There’s a few more things but I’m backing these to clear in the two weeks before blast off.

PS: The WA state library does free scanning if you’re ever in need.

Dogs and a plane

doggo-fixed

*Disclaimer: sport stuff*

They say every dog has its day, but until this weekend there were surely some long-suffering Western Bulldogs fans wondering whether there was any truth to the phrase.

In breaking its 62-year premiership drought on Saturday, Footscray captured the hearts of millions of neutral footy fans like myself, watching on because I suppose that’s just what people do on Grand Final day.

I can only imagine what it would actually mean to the die-hard fans, many of whom have waited their entire lives to see the Bulldogs play in a Grand Final, to watch their club finally bring home the cup again.

For the players and their families – the club has a high ratio of second generation footballers – it might well be the ultimate experience.

These are people who have dedicated blood, sweat, tears and all of the other sporting clichés to the cause of a club which until Saturday had just one success to show for some 90 years of history.

Sport doesn’t make sense to a lot of people, and fair enough. Remove the emotion and the narrative of the experience and you’re left with a field full of people chasing a ball around for two hours.

The beauty of the 2016 Grand Final was the absolute strength of the narrative – even those who don’t understand the allure of sport might have felt something other than boredom in watching it.

It was remarkable, and a reminder of why people choose to play the game despite all the running and jumping and skills required.

Ten years ago I was actually lucky enough to play in a junior football premiership with a bunch of really talented people who are no doubt as proud as I am at this point.

I haven’t kicked a footy for about five years, and even if I had this day in 2006 is the closest I’ll ever get to playing in an AFL flag.

Fortunately the same doesn’t go for everyone in the team. Yesterday’s Norm Smith Medallist was also a 14-year-old kid running around in a Willetton jumper against Bull Creek-Leeming that day.

Watching Jason Johannisen carve up on the biggest stage of all was phenomenal, and testament to the years of hard work and sacrifice he’s put in in pursuit of his dreams.

Yesterday he led the Dogs to the least likely premiership of the modern era – a win for the ages from seventh on the ladder. It was no under-14s premiership but it sure came close.

I don’t usually bet to the point where I had to ask the man at the TAB for help filling out the piece of paper, but like many people I know I did have a bit of sentimental cash on Jason to win the Norm Smith.

The profit is more than enough to cover return flights between New York and LA, so if it happens I guess I’ll have JJ and his Doggies to thank.

Still no word on that front, though.

Why tho.

celeb-stork
Celebrity storkin.

As someone who asks questions of strangers for a living I’m a big fan of the word ‘why’. There’s a reason kids often drive their parents insane with it – overdo it at your peril but without any preface or bias it’s pretty much the most thought provoking thing you could ask another person.

Asking why invokes explanation, justification and sometimes deflection, but it’s a fantastic gauge of what someone is thinking and what their actions genuinely mean.

If I had a dollar for every time someone asked why I’m taking a trip overseas on a whim to try stalk a celebrity I’d probably have enough coin to pay for a flight to LA and back.

This week I’m going to answer some of the more commonly asked questions I’ve had since ‘going public’ with my plans. There’s only two, but they’re pretty much the ones everyone has anyway.

Why are you going overseas to stalk a celebrity?

This trip is so much more about the last few years of my life than it is about trying to find Mac DeMarco.

This thing keeps happening with my eye at work, where it gets this involuntary twitch if I spend too long at my desk. I think a few weeks away will help that calm down.

In actuality we all have our ups and downs, but having worked in three jobs and moved house six times since entering the full time workforce at the beginning of 2014, made and lost friends and colleagues, and just all of the other things that have happened I really feel a holiday is overdue.

Despite this, the motivation to actually get on a plane didn’t arise until I heard Mac’s ‘invite’ for the first time. Whether the meeting with the musician actually happens or not is irrelevant at this point, it’s the throwaway invitation which has inspired a trip across the globe, and one I’m incredibly grateful to have.

He moved. What are you gonna do now?

hotline-bling
Waitin for that email bling

Around a week ago I emailed Mac’s management and heard back almost instantly. He’s touring and writing at the time, but the message has been passed on to him for consideration and I guess that’s why I’m waking up at all hours of the night to check my emails. At least I hope it is. I’d hate to think my subscription to Hostelworld’s email newsletter is having that level of impact on my life (seems like it will still come in handy if ever in Budapest).

If we can hook something up for a meeting I’ll fly to LA during a window of the trip. If he’s not, well on a personal level I guess it doesn’t really matter – see above.

Yeah but why? You’re not even a massive fan.

This is the essence of the annoying kid overdoing it with the why thing. I’m going to New York for me, not for Mac DeMarco or for anyone else.

*Surprisingly common blank stare*

……..

Thanks for reading and to all who have subscribed – you the real MVPs. I’ll keep you posted on if I hear anything from Mac or his manager.

Mac’s moving curveball

roachy-2-diplodopest
Turns out I wasn’t the only one…

It wasn’t long after booking the trip to the states that I upped and left my apartment for greener pastures in Perth’s northern suburbs.

The move was a significant one – just 25 kilometres in distance but providing a greater, roach-free space to work in and towards my goal of meeting Mac DeMarco in New York in October.

Planning is what I’ve been doing in my spare time since – the trip has provided something significant to look forward to and proven a welcome distraction from all my other responsibilities.

HOWEVER, all the planning in the world couldn’t have accounted for the fact that DeMarco – an adult human in his own right – would also move house between booking the flights and setting off.

spanner-pizza

Turns out even famous people move house, and Mac’s move – a 4500-kilometre relocation from the east coast of the US to the west – probably has my move north of Perth’s surprisingly divisive Swan River covered in terms of significance.

With six weeks to go before boarding the plane to New York the move is a curveball which has left plenty to think about.

The options from here are as follows.

Option 1: Contact Mac, go to LA

Pros:

  • Could lock something ahead of time
  • Get to see another part of the US
  • Achieves what I set out to do at the start of the year
  • Would be a serious adventure
  • Generally more inclined to wear Chucks than Ballys

Cons:

  • Where do you start – I’ve sent an email?
  • Could be expensive and disruptive to the overall trip
  • Would only have a day or two to pull it off

Option 2: Make no contact, go to LA

Pros:

  • Would pretty much be the ultimate story if it came off
  • Adventure factor high
  • Get to see more of the US
  • Generally more inclined to wear Chucks than Ballys

Cons:

  • A casual 3.9 million people in LA. Wouldn’t know where to start.
  • Expensive, disruptive and pretty much impossible

Option 3: Stay in NY, visit the tenants at Mac’s old place

Pros:

  • Quirky, pretty neat if it works out
  • Fiscally responsible

Cons:

  • I have no idea who lives at the house, what if they don’t drink coffee?
  • Lack of physical Mac DeMarco
  • Generally more inclined to wear Chucks than Ballys

Option 4: Stay in New York, have a sensible holiday

Pros:

  • Fiscally responsible
  • Ample time to do self-guided Ghostbusters walking tour
  • Accommodation already locked in

Cons:

  • Significant lack of Mac DeMarco
  • Sensible
  • Still more inclined to wear Chucks than Ballys

At this stage option 1 is the preference. It was never the intention to make contact ahead of time, but the game has changed pretty significantly.

I’ll let you know.

Roaches and records

roachy-1-diplodopest

Note: A lot of blogs I’ve read open with a cheery welcome post. Through no fault of its own this one doesn’t, but it picks up. 

It was an unbearably warm Saturday evening spent alone in a roach infested two-bedroom flat in Perth’s southern suburbs. The apartment – my apartment – had helped me back on my feet, but a lot had changed during my time there and things felt really stale.

The recent changes – a relationship breakdown, a loss of interest in my only hobby and the cancellation of my plans for the evening – added up to feel heavier than the sum of their parts, and as such, things were pretty flat.

I was moving in a few weeks time and most my stuff was packed, but instead of making new plans that evening I sat among the roaches and the boxes and tried to keep the roaches out of the boxes and honestly felt really sorry for myself. It wasn’t a great night.

Pretty much the only thing I hadn’t packed was my record player, and having spontaneously picked up a copy earlier in the day that was when I first listened to Mac DeMarco’s Another One.

I like DeMarco’s work, but I’m no fanatic by any stretch. That said, there was a moment on Another One which particularly stood out. It wasn’t even a song. At the mini-LP’s conclusion the Canadian crooner, now residing in some weird part of New York, blurted out his address and invited the listener around for a cup of coffee.

Normally an invite to anyone who cared wouldn’t elicit a second thought, but in these circumstances it did. I’d never had any motivation to travel to New York before so I slept on the idea, but within a week I’d booked my flights to JFK – initially in September by accident but eventually in October like I’d intended. And so began a plan to travel several thousand miles from the world’s most isolated city to one of its most populous and drink a cup of coffee with a complete stranger.

I’ve read that people have made the trip before, but I’ve not heard of anyone going from Perth to do so. Provided he’s home I guess I’ll know for sure in a few months’ time.