The Pointy End of Something Different

Holy Smokes.

I know that I was searching for something a little different but this was probably one of the strangest evenings of my life. I hardly know where to start. If you are interested in having your horizons broadened then this event, The Pointy End of Something Different, is for you. At times it was comfortingly familiar and at others supremely bizarre and confronting. It made me feel brave, adventurous and a little voyeuristic. A brilliant night's entertainment that I didn't want to end and couldn't wait to share with others.

This fabulous variety show was emceed by a comedian, Ned Townsend. Not hilariously funny but charming just the same. He was a friendly guy who made everyone feel relaxed and as if this was happening in their own loungeroom. In actual fact the show was at The Brisbane Hotel. This is a unique venue that revels in its diviness. Is that even a word? It should be. The Brisbane is an old fashioned pub that celebrates in its shabbiness and lack of modern style. The walls are painted black and the carpet is so old that all the pile has rubbed off and only the underlay remains. As a result of all the beer spilled on the floor over the years it has a stickiness that makes it difficult to lift your foot to take another step or make another dance move. The decor includes Kiss and AC/DC pinball machine, animal skulls and disco balls. The toilet cubicles are covered with graffiti. If zombies had a pub then this would be it. I really love the atmosphere at The Brissy.

First act was Nick Chugg playing guitar. He was a decent singer songwriter his plying and songs were cool rather than really good.

Stragglers Tas band describe themselves as beer fueled country folk three girls guitar, banjo, fiddle other than having great song they can really sing. miss your dog more than I miss you. I loved these girls and I can't wait to see them again soon.

Ahead of the next act everyone got a ping-pong ball. I was a little concerned that this might be a Thai inspired act. Not to be, rather we were entertained by a couple of scantily clad sensual dancing lady clowns. Half the way through the ladies knelt on the Ground and slowly swivelled their heads from side to side reminiscent of the clowns in sideshow alley. The audience was invited to try and throw the ping-pong balls into their mouths.

The most fabulous buxom woman in the burlesque style. Took more and more of her clothing off as she talked about how wonderful her body was. Stomach feels the same as boobs in the dark. She talked about not understanding the need that many women have for a thigh gap - she had never met a man who insisted on a space to put his hands.

The fabulous Princess Tweedle Needle was next she is fire eater from Berlin. She swallowed both fire and glass to the tones of Nina Simone's 'Feeling Good' playing in the room.

Bodane Hatten the magician was next. His tricks were slick and convincing but his comedy routine was the highlight. Just hilarious.

Then came the very tall Samora Squid, sword swallower and contortionist. Just mindblowing. By now my head was spinning, and not just because I was a few pints of beer to the good. Surely, the night couldn't get any more bizarre. Wrong! 

Princess Tweedle Needle came back. She proceeded to fill a old-fashioned milk churn with a Bootle of rum and several bottles of coke. PTN then clip The churn to her ears and swung it around pail. Ouch! Then she unclipped the churn and put more rum and coke in. What's next, where do you go from ears. Well, my goodness, PTN clipped the churn to her lips and I don't mean the ones on her face. Jesus Christ on a stick, that's got to hurt. But where could she possibly go from here.

After the churn was unclipped the audience was invited to purchase a rum and, depending on your purchase price you're invited to staple gun the money to her body including face, stomach, legs and boobs. This felt very naughty, the opportunity to cause another physical pain without consequences was weirdly thrilling.

The show finished with The Dead Maggies playing their fabulous Convict Punk music. A bit of punk dancing was exactly what required after the weirdness of the show and the tension that comes with such weirdness.

The Pointy End of Something Different was one of the most fabulous shows that I have ever been to. It was the different act that I had been looking for. This is what the Arts is for, to challenge your world and make you think about things in different ways. I don't think that I am the same as before I went to that startling variety show at The Brissy. I am striving to be a Patron of the Arts but in this case is was the Arts that gave me it's Patronage by expanding my experience of life.

Daniel Champagne

My quest to see something different continues and so I went along to see Daniel Champagne at the Republic. The warm up act was Hannah May accompanied by a fellow on the keyboard. She was in the style of Norah Jones had some lovely or originals. Her set was a bit one paced and was in need of an upbeat song or a well known cover. Not too much new there.

I was hoping that Daniel would provide something a little different that would take my music

appreciation in a different direction. On the surface of it Daniel's music was to my usual taste, folksy and bluesy. However, what this guy can't do with a guitar isn't worth doing. Not only can he pick like no-one else, he uses his guitar as a percussive instrument and makes music that is unlike any other I have heard. He uses a range of alternative tunings and even changes tuning in the middle of songs. The percussiveness of this playing is beautiful in his version of Nirvana's 'Come as You Are'. He also does a version of Dire Strait's 'Fade to Black'. Whilst not as soulful as Mark Knopfler's version, the bluesiness of Daniel's version is what fills your soul.

Whilst his covers are cool and interesting, it is his originals where his music really comes to life. A new favorite of mine is his song 'The Nightingale'. This is a song about taking your chances, living live without regret and giving your heart and soul to everything you do. This is a sentiment that I can live by.

"When I told you I was afraid to fall, really I was afraid to fly."

Something Different with Polish Club

I usually choose to go and see acts that I am pretty sure that I will like.  Usually I seek out folk, country, blues and punk acts but I felt that it was time to expand my horizons. On the recommendation of my mate Soccer Fan, The Blonde and I went to see Polish Club at The Republic.  There were two warm-up acts on show that night.

The first warm up act was Hurricane Youth.  They are a rock/punk band from Launceston.  OK, so I didn't move too far away from my usual music choices with this one but you gotta give me points for trying.  These guys were decent.  Question: is a good sign or a bad sign when the drummer has a ripper of a black eye?    True punk I would say.  Anyway, the drummer was very good.

By this stage of the evening I had reached the my alcoholic creative point.  This is where I believe that I am the most fantastic writer and unparalleled insight into musical talent.  You know how it is.  You are at a bar having a quiet drink or two and suddenly you are convinced that you are the best singer that anyone has ever heard so give karaoke a go.  Remember the time you just knew that you could do a back flip of the table, it didn't matter that you have never been able to do it before.  If my notes from the night are anything to go by I am in fact not a brilliant writer with insight surpassing others when it comes to musical talent.  We've all been there, right?  I met up with my mates Soccer Fan and her fella Cricket Fan and had a few more drinks just to make sure.

The second act was local girls, Maddy Jane.  She was fantastic.  This was the act I was hoping to see with my change of tact on music selection.    Maddy Jane did a brilliant cover of Fleetwood Mac's 'Dreams'.   Jed Appleton joined Maddy on stage and they made a great paring.  Jed is a bit of a favourite of mine.  He usually wears an spectacular chequered seventies style jacket with a lambs wool collar.  For tonight's event he has traded it in for a brilliant eighties style stonewash denim number - just fabulous.  Maddy Jane's granddad was in attendance and it is safe to say that he was the rockin-est patron on the dance floor.  Living proof that you are never to old to go the the pub to see a band - so take that His Grumpiness! Soccer Fan wished that they would have played longer, I concurred.

Polish Club, a band out of Sydney, were the headline act and they were pretty good.  Their slower numbers were excellent. I hate crowds. I like room to dance and enjoy the music without being pushed and shoved around.  I will put up with an overcrowded venue if the band is overwhelmingly fabulous but whilst Polish Club were professional and slick it wasn't enough for me to stay in the over crowded bar at the Republic that night.  In addition, the alcoholic sweet-spot had well and truly passed on so I listened from out the back and really enjoyed their music.  Not quite to my taste but an adventure into something a little different, which can't be bad.  I resolved to continue my search for something a little different in the world of Arts Patronage.  Wish me luck.

Young Folk These Days

I started my journey to become a Patron of the Arts because I had come to realise that there was a whole world of musical expression and fun times that I was missing out on.  It is easy to stay at home on drizzly Sunday afternoons and watch a movie or the footy on the giggle-box.  Not that there is anything wrong with that it's just that it is a very limited world.  New ideas are slow to germinate and there is a depth and vibrancy missing from the world on my couch no matter how comforting it is.  One particular Sunday afternoon I took a chance and went out to explore the world.  I joined the beanie, boots and puffer jacket crowd at Willie Smiths Apple Shed in Grove.  It was also encouraging that they offer a range of delicious local ciders.


I walked through the door to see four young men about the age of 12 playing the blues. If I had not ventured out on that drizzly Sunday I might never have discovered this marvellous ensemble.  This was not your usual recorder-inspired aural catastrophe that you often hear from a 12 year old musician but really tight blues.   The band, Lonely Bay, also did a great instrumental of a Coldplay cover but their blues numbers were the best.  It was no great surprise that they were implored by the audience to give an encore.  The drummer taking a swig of his nonalcoholic ginger beer, the keyboard player straighten his flat-cap and vest and they proceeded to give the audience what they wanted.

Seeing such wonderful young talent on display made me think of Drummer Kid. His neighbours recently wrote a letter to him to tell him that he is a "public nuisance" and that he should refrain from practising the drums.  This note has indeed discouraged Drummer Kid from his musical pursuits. It is appalling that a couple of small minded people can intimidate a young man from creating music and developing an interest in the Arts for the sake of relief from a little afternoon noise.  I wonder whether they would rather have him playing violent computer games or out on the street with nothing to do looking for entertainment.  Drummer Kid is a young man who is interested in contributing something; in a world gone mad with daily terrorist attacks, in a world where the rich are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer I would have thought that his interest in the arts would be seen as a good thing, noble, even.  Shame on them!

Another fabulous young man is Yirrmal.  He always performs with such joy and optimism and with an inner determination and pride.  He performed shoeless as usual despite the chilly weather.  He had hot cup of tea on standby rather than the rock n roll standard of a beer or bottle of bourbon if you are the lead singer of Cold Chisel.  Yirrmal always starts with a thank you to the traditional owners of the land through a song.  It is overwhelmingly beautiful and gives me a path back to times gone by, a history that is not mine but yet mine just the same.  This is the lot of the immigrant Australian, feeling connection to a land as old as time but yet not having a substantial connection to the culture and history beyond the past 200 years.  My ancestor came to Australia from England in 1827 and did not have a great relationship with the indigenous population.  He died as a result of wasting away after a spear wound.  Whilst I am proud of my ancestors' bravery and pioneering spirit, whilst I am grateful for what I have been given as a result of that bravery, I find it difficult to find a true connection with the older story of my country.   Yirrmal's music gives me connection to land and culture through his storytelling and I am grateful for that. I love the way that he shares this heritage without asking anything in return other than an open heart.   This is musical creation and Arts Patronage at its purest I would have thought and surely worth getting off the couch for.

There is Power in a Union (and music)

Protest through song has a long and colourful history.  Musicians have use song to inspire people to action, inform the ignorant and to unite the downtrodden and dispossessed.  From Billie Holiday's 'Strange Fruit' to Steve Poltz's 'Hey God, I'll Trade you Donald Trump for Leonard Cohen' music has changed and shaped our society.

Growing up in the eighties punk was just warming up and was ripe for the counterculture movement of the Thatcher years.  This is the music I have grown to love.  Stories about people and their struggles.  The anti-thatcher protest music coming out of the UK was what I thought music was all about - The Smiths, Pink Floyd, The Clash, Billy Bragg.  It is a little ironic (or perhaps not) that my new favourite band is called 'The Dead Maggies' after the Baroness herself.

Music has always been a good friend to the worker and has been used by trade unions to spread their message.  Music is a tool that the voiceless can use to convey their message to thousands and, well, up the worker!  Solidarity Forever!

It was in this spirit that His Grumpiness and I went to the TasUnions May Day dinner and the whole room was filled with like minded people who were passionate about workers rights.  Let me tell you the workers' movement sure knows how to party and boy can they drink.  There were rousing speeches with lots of "Hear, Hear" and calls of "Shame" from the floor.  There were inspirational stories of individuals and groups who had 'stuck it the man'.  Best of all was the uplifting "Solidarity Forever" sing-a-long.

The band of the evening was Single Bar comprising three young folk in white suits and an inflatable banana.  I wasn't sure how this was going to go but it turns out that they are an 80s cover band.  And not the cheesy new romantics but Talking Heads' "Psycho Killer", Men at Work's "Overkill"  followed by The Doors, Dire Straits and Run DMC.  Needless to say the room went off.


At the end of the dinner His Grumpiness and I were not yet ready to go home and give up the evenings good vibes so we called in to the casino's Birdcage Bar for one last drink before heading home.  Matt Edmonds was playing a bunch of old drunk person favourites included Cat Stevens, John Cougar Mellencamp, George Michael, Paul Kelly, Bryan Adams, Hunters and Collectors. I knew that things had really gone pear-shaped when I was on the dance floor singing REO Speedwagon's "I Can't Fight This Feeling" at the top of my voice. But as I shared a questionable sing-a-long with a bunch of strangers in the bar I was once again I was struck by music's ability to bring people together and give the common person power to express ideas and influence the world.  Up the Worker!

Yirrmal and the End of Summer

On a Sunday in Autumn The Blonde and I went to the Museum of New and Old Art's (MONA) Sunday market - MoMa.  MoMa is not your typical Sunday Market but more like an old fashioned Fayre.  You can get fantastic slow cooked meats with exotic sauces, purchase handmade jewellery or soaps, buy yourslef a new silk shirt in fantastic colours made from Indian Saris or just sample some of the artisanal ice cream.  If none of this takes your fancy then you can grab yourself a beanbag a lounge on the grass whilst some amazing artist serenading you all afternoon.

The Blonde and I were particularly interested in seeing the wonderful Yirrmal.  He is a young indigenous singer and the grandson of the inspiring Dr Yunupingu.  Yirrmal has an optimistic air about him that is fresh and new.  He does a great version of Yothu Yindi's 'Treaty'.  Yirrmal does some songs in language and I feel guilty that I speak German better than any one of the indigenous languages of Australia.  Even though I do not understand I love to listen to these languages that seem entwined with the land.  They send to transcend literal understanding.  It is great to see an artist at the beginning of their career.  It makes me feel like I part of it somehow.

There were a couple of other acts on show.  Canadian folk singer Tennyson King who charmed us with his version of Otis Redding's ‘Sitting on the Dock of the Bay’.  Great way to start a Sunday.  Also, Andrew Marshall.  This guy is my sort of singer.  A folksy type that seems to be able to read your thoughts and plays songs accordingly.  He played a song with his beautiful ref headed daughter of about 5 years.  She was wearing the most magnificent rainbow striped dress and seemed not to have a care in the world.

This concert had that melancholic end of summer feel.  For those of you familiar with Hobart, it was a real jacket on, jacket off day and it was the first day of the year where items from my winter wardrobe were required.  Yirrmal usually performs barefooted but he had to resort to wearing socks.  The market goers all had an air of making the best of things before the world descended into an absence of light.


I felt sad to see the end of such a fabulous art-filled summer but I am looking forward to those long Hobart winter evenings in pubs with open fires, mulled wine and dancing.  Dark Mofo festival in the depths of our winter is always a highlight, closely followed by the Festival of Voices and the Huon Valley Mid-Winter Festival.  No hibernating for me.  The absence of light ushers in a world of new experiences and adventures.

Lior @ Spiegeltent

Yes, The Blonde and I had had a couple of pre-show drinkies but that was not the cause of the outpouring of emotion at the Spiegeltent.

It all started with Paul Grabowsky on piano.  The the sparkling crisp sound of the keys in the small wooden venue was moving enough and then the amazing rich voice of Lior made my heart race and I found it difficult to breathe.  Before I knew it tears were rolling down my face and I was nearly sobbing at the beauty of it all.  I guess I was a little overwrought.

Lior's music is heavily influenced by Hebrew and Arabic scales which in itself is interesting and a little mindbending but his voice is magnificent.  Not to mention that he is more than a little goodlooking and seems to be one of the nicest blokes that you could meet.  I did see him sing with a string quartet at the Port Fairy Folk Festival which was fabulous but here in my home city in the dark and atmospheric Spiegeltent his performance was magical.  I left the performance feeling both exhausted and uplifted.  How can the world be a cruel, cold place when such beauty exists.

Afterwards we had a few more drinks at Grape in Salamanca.  The Blonde reckons that Lior is too atonal for her tastes.  Music sure is a subjective and personal thing.  Legally Blinde were playing a few decent covers, I would have liked to hear more.

Incidently, does a DJ count as a live act?  Surely, there is an art to reading your audience and tailoring the tunes to suit.  The ability changing the timing and blend other people's creations seamlessly to form an new message and atmosphere all of its own is surely art.  The jury is still out.