The Bridie Clan - Suburban Melbourne, 1967

Suburban Bridie Backyard, Melbourne, 1967
I was third out of four kids.. (Mum would have kept them rolling out if she hadn’t stuffed up the nerve endings in her back.) And we were proddy dogs, not catholic.

Classic photos these, Mum’s haircut, all of us Bridie kids squinting at the bright Australian sun. Though we are all very different, we get on pretty well us mob... still.

My oldest sister (who fell second in line) Sandie is an artist and curator in Melbourne, who has done a bunch of very interesting work over the years. It was she who got me interested in music off the main road... The first major diversion was a holiday on the south coast of New South Wales where we’d hide out in the room next to the laundry and indulge in the aromatic flavour of Bank tobacco whilst listening to Joni Mitchell’s “Court and Spark”, Dylan’s “Blood on the Tracks,” and Auntie Jack sings Wollongong.
In later years she introduced me to RRR, Wire’s “154” and The Monochrome Set.

Older sisters, a very important influence of the adolescent boy. I hope I had a similarly positive influence on my younger sister (three years younger to the hour) who adopted my copy of “Talk Talk” by the Psychedelic Furs, “Closer” by Joy Division and “Seventeen Seconds” by The Cure. It was however my dear ol CWA Nana who was the biggest influence on my musical life, by always encouraging my piano playing from the age of three, who had the only piano I had access to, and then only in the school holidays when we would drive up to Sydney to her house in Northmead. But she spoiled me with pikelets and granny kisses and after she died her piano was passed on to us and with its light, close action, I wrote most of the early NDW and Cake songs upon this piano. But I used to listen to her play and sing, her arthritic hands still gliding all over the piano. She would play and sing light opera in a voice that age had stretched the vibrato of to a ridiculous extent.

Rubie Violet... I have written a 6-verse ballad about her that has been sitting in the draw for ages... I’ll get around to finish it off one of these days, hopefully before I become a grandparent myself.

Fat Bob before he ate all the beans... August 26, 1980

The Cure - 17 Seconds Tour – August 26, 1980
Robert Smith taken by me in the front row of a Cure gig at the Prospect Hill Hotel in Kew on the 17 Seconds tour. This album meant a lot to me... brilliant existential minimalism and atmosphere. This concert affected me greatly... Here was a band that could hold a mood of back paced atmospheric tunes… no lead breaks. Yes, as the years passed, The Cure’s inability to break out of this misery worked against it, but 17 Seconds and Faith were brilliant atmospheric miserable albums that at the age of 18, and stoned on “suttie’s putty,” worked a treat. Even the keyboards were brilliantly sublime, simple ownward trajectory melody lines played on the off beat... Smith’s guitar sounds were a treat.

Oh, Suttie’s Putty you may ask... Sutty dealt deals of hashish (you cant get hash in Australia any more, more’s the pity). 15 dollars for a gram and a half... it was malleable like putty and sweet smelling. Sutty was an odd guy, had a carpet snake for a pet and spoke without opening his lips. A couple of joints, put on The Cure, Taking Tiger Mountain by Strategy, Durutti Column, The Reels, Magazine, Joy Division, Wire, Talking Heads, The Velvets, Orchestral Manouvres in the Dark, Bowie, Dollar Brand, Dorien Gray, The Birthday Party, watch Eraserhead, Apocalypse Now... Read Herman Hesse, Patrick White’s Voss... The winter of 1980... Catch the train out to Lilydale, jump the end of the platform without paying... one person would buy a counter meal at the White Horse Hotel, the other three of us would load up with smorgasbord salad... beetroot, bread rolls, potato salad... fill our tummies, drink beer… catch the train back... never got caught... Crystal Ballroom on the weekend... practice on my Fender Rhodes and Korg MS10... Thought it was all in front of us...

My best mate, John B, took wonderful photographs of static on a black and white television (see the cover of Moving Around the first NDW single)... that bleak little ditty probably got written under the influence of Suttie’s Putty... On weekend we would sometimes go to hayfield and sleep in the barn at a mate’s uncle’s farm... Walk amongst the dying gum trees from the salination at the foot of the Great Dividing Range, or go camping at Blackfish Creek near Kinglake... drink red wine til we fell asleep... Taggerty River, Big river... lots of camping trips... drive up to Mt. St. Leonard at dawn having stayed up all night on amphetamines, watch the sun rise through the haze, pretend we were interesting... Sneer at Malcolm Fraser... That was then, this is now…

 

The stylish member of NDW... Johnny Phillips

Johnny Phillips – ?
He always was the stylish one. I remember the first time we played together... 808 drum machine, I had a Juno 6 keyboard, he played his Stratocaster through the Roland echo unit and we played for what seemed like ages... Moving Around and Untouched came out of these first noodlings... I knew straight away we were on to something... That’s 25 years ago... He is a wonderful fella Johnny P... He was into skateboarding back then and was very good at it. The only record he had in his record collection was by Wham... He didn’t like it, he just had it... We had a rehearsal for the first time because I asked him what music he liked and he said “Here Come The Warm Jets.” That got me in... I think we were sleeping with the same woman without knowing it, but it was never an issue. I have always trusted his musical judgment, and that’s rare with me.

The first NDW live gigs, April, 1984

 

First Not Drowning Waving Gigs – 1984
Back in 1983 at our formation, when it was just the two of us, Johnny Phillips had this romantic idea for NDW never to  play live shows, to be a recording outfit -- that’s all. He hated the Australian pub rock ethos, never romanticised the notion of bands learning their craft, cutting it in the suburban beer barns. The studio sufficed for John, shaping songs on the array of different multi track units. I’ve always respected Johnny’s perspective. I agreed with him up to a point. The promotion, the games, the dealing with venue operators, the financials... all painful.

However (not that I’d had heaps of experience) I loved the dynamic of the live show, I loved the loud volume, I loved the ego of a live show. I love the immediate feedback you get from an audience. I love the different slant the live version gives to a song. Love the atmosphere you can create live if you put in the hard yards.

Amanda Brotchie - keyboards, backing vox

So NDW, having already released three singles and an album on Rampant Records, ventured out on the road. We finally headed up the deadly Hume Highway. At that stage NDW was just John and myself, but for the live shows we augmented by adding the Easter guys... Tim, Russel, Rowan and James and added Amanda Brotchie for extra keyboards and backing vocals. We toured interstate before we played in our home city of Melbourne. I was drawn towards the idea of loud ambience. Another Pond was a quiet record for the most part. There were only a few songs on that album that would cut it live plus a couple of b-sides and previous singles...

Let’s see... Moving Around, Mr Pooh (Do Be A Don’t Be), Mr. Suharto Man, Another Pond and Hunting for Nuggets... Maybe Perfect Design were songs with big drums that would cut it live... and even then Russ was smacking the kit whereas the recorded versions had polite little 808 snares.

My filmmaker mate Mark Worth took me along to see a band he was working the visuals for, Dorian Gray. At the Crystal Ballroom. They managed to create this wonderfully dark atmosphere, a sense of space that I could relate to. Worth enthusiastically sold me by talking of providing a wall of visuals to accompany the NDW sound, covering the large area behind the stage with white sheets then setting up a 16mm projector. 2 super 8 projectors and 2 slide projectors... wall of vision, and kaleidascope mirror balls, gobo light balls... a smothering of visual ambience and 8 minute versions of songs with massive improvised ambient sections in the middle and end of songs...

For me music is about losing yourself, escaping from the mundanity of life,and with these visual perspectives and a loud PA losing yourself amongst all of that was a distinct possibility and something to be desired... live was louder than on the record... the dynamics were stronger... the  politeness of songs such as “Dare Not Say A Word,” and “Walk Tired” turned into dynamic drone songs... However, we nearly didn’t make it to Melbourne...

Sydney was disastrous. We toured Canberra and Sydney first... I’m not sure why. I guess was wanted to hone our craft before making fools of ourselves in front of our peers... Before we ventured north we did a warm up gig. Our first gig was at the Sydenham Hotel in Richmond to a hand full of friends as we played a gig under a pseudonym just to see how it would go. Wobbly is an apt description, though I was so nervous I got quite drunk. I do remember the Velvetsesque rock of the end chorus of Moving Around. Rowan and Russel were a rocking rhythm section, Rowan’s melodic fluid bass playing anchoring the band... Russ played the 16ths Joy Division drumming with precision and machismo and Johnny is just sooooooo loud on stage with his Fender Strat and its Ford ensignia and his leopard skin strap. Mind you for John the guitar is a trigger so whether its a strat or a gibson(holden versus Ford) is of no concern to him. He could make just as good a noise out of K-mart special. Tim was triggering train noises and spoken word affects through the PA (we already had started playing our epic Sing Sing with the preacher yelling ‘Don’t you commit yourself” in stereo) and together with Worthy’s slides and film, it seemed to work.

Cafe Jax was a good gig, our first proper public performance. I remember having to load the Fender Rhodes with heavy speaker box up the stairs into the club off the mall. As our first gig, I also remember it feeling strange that NDW’s first gig was in the ACT of all places but given that ACT audiences have remained the best in terms of size of crowd vis-a-vis population, I guess it makes sense.

We stayed at  the salubrious Watson Car-O-tel, a caravan park on the northern outskirts of the Burley Griffin designed city. We each stayed in a mobile caravan. After the gig we sat around a fire having a few drinks. Johnny P said his good nights and went off in the darkness to his own van to bed, walked inside, took his gear off and jumped into bed. We heard a commotion as JP had gone into the wrong van and lept into bed between this happily married couple. Needless to say a rather sheepish looking John emerged from the van, apologetic and bright red in the face.

My other memories of this first venture was arriving in Sydney only to find none of the rather expensive street posters had been put up. So there we were in a typical Sydney tropical thunderstorm saturated as we put up our own posters last minute in desparation. The gigs we had chosen to play were not great either. We booked ourselves a gig at the Paddington Green Hotel, which had previously been a happening inner suburban indie music scene venue but had since, unbeknownst to us turned into a gay revue Les Girls venue. We played to 6 people including the Farris brothers from INXS... All rather underwhelming. Really.

Limping home to Melbourne we advertised our gigs with carts on RRR, the wonderful community radio station in Melbourne that had been playing our records for a while and we managed to sell out the two shows at the Tropicana Club.

Now that’s more like it we thought. They were strong gigs, had a real energy and atmosphere to it, and it was such a buzz playing to a full crowd. I knew we were on to something. Something different compared to the country punk that was the St. Kilda sound of that time. Mind you, there was lots of improvement to be done... My singing was a weak link, we hadn’t mastered the technology, we had yet to work up the bustling versions of Storm and Sing Sing which were the cornerstones of the NDW live gigs later on...

The old church in Elsternwick

Recording The Little Desert - Elsternwick, VIC, 1985
The film clip for “The Same Heat” off “The Little Desert” was shot in the same old church in Elsternwick as that which we recorded much of the piano and ambiences for that album. For both the recording and the film clip we had access to the church after 9 pm at night, meaning we spent many a long night. We had to wait for the traffic to die down to record the pianos and big bells and cellos. Twas a grand space at night.

The clip was shot by Mark Worth, Chris Windmill and Mark Davis. Davo went on to host SBS current affairs programme, Dateline, and is a promenant journalist, breaking stories in the Pacific. Chris Windmill was a very funny comedian and Super 8 filmmaker, and Mark Worth’s story is well documented elsewhere. Suffice to say he was one of my best mates, led us up to PNG, an event which changed my life, and Mark sadly died a few years back in West Papua. The film clip was a cracker. We also went down to the Coorong where Johhny P and myself were shot amongst the sandunes and jumping through bonfires amongst timelapse night skies with big stars. As with all the early film clips, we look like very serious young insects... less to do with serious intent and more to do with nerves.

The Same Heat is one of my favourite NDW tunes... It’s one of the rare early tunes which I am pleased with how the lyrics stand the test of time, and we managed to capture that sense of space we were endeavouring to find. And it began my love affair with the cello. Johnny’s guitar and Rowan’s bass work brilliantly and Amanda Brotchie did the backing vocals. People often misheard the dogs bones lyrics for dogs balls!

 

The loo, Ponam Island, West Papua

Ponam Island, West Papua
The small island in the Manus Island province of PNG, where NDW spent a week after our 6 weeks in Rabaul recording Garamut drummers. I’ve been to Ponam three times thanks once more to Mark Worth’s connections. The structure in the photo is the toilet. You walk along the coconut tree trunks to the little palm frond hut where you squat, do your business, watch it hit the water, and then watch the fish come from everywhere to consume the waste product. This is a seriously beautiful part of the world. Master fishermen, a people who know their tides and winds and weather patterns. Some of the most amazing sunsets I have ever seen have been whist standing on the western reef of Ponam.

My Friend The Chocolate Cake, Edinburgh, 1996

Spiegeltent — Edinburgh, Scotland, 1996
The best band room in the world. The backstage at the Spiegeltent in Edinburgh in 1996, with its view over the central train station up to the ol’ town with the castle at the top... where we would down a couple of wonderful single malts for Dutch courage, before hitting the wonderful stage in this Belgium traveling cabaret tent.

My Friend The Chocolate Cake played 14 gigs in ten days, and were fortunate to receive a glowing review in the Guardian after the first gig, ‘cos no one had ever heard of us, and whilst we may have got through playing to a largely ex-pat audience, we managed to pull good crowds thereby preventing the major financial hemorrhaging that international touring induces.

On the bank holiday at the beginning of our season we played a free gig on the high road to passers by, spruiking our gigs at the tent. As close to busking as we have got!

We did the tent in Edinburgh twice (96 and 97) and we had the time of our lives. Highlights included performing a version of Homer Simpson’s “When I was 17(I drank some very good beer, I drank some very good beer, I bought it with a fake ID, I stayed up listening to Queen ,my name was Brian McGee) with comedy duo Smith and Blackwood, performing at Glasgow’s King Tut’s Wah-Wah Club, going along to see Hibernians play at Easter Road with the Spiegeltent bouncers, performing with John Cooper Clark on a BBC Scotland live radio concert, and befriending David Bates’ (who runs the tent still to this day) wonderful father Frank Bates - a classic old school bloke, who had recently been widowed and to alleviate the grieving had accompanied his son David to Edinburgh and was the Spiegeltent fix-it man... flapping down the tent, fixing the plumbing, no job too difficult for ol’ Frank.

The two seasons in Edinburgh are some of my favourite musical memories... they really made us as a band... it was very much hand to mouth, but it was wall to wall arts and music and whisky and we made some wonderful friends.

(L to R) David Bridie, George Telek, Ben Hakalitz and Glen Low at Real World Studios

Real World Studios, Bath, England
Here we are singing backing vocals to Go Ralom at the wonderful Real World Studios in Box, Wiltshire, near Bath, mixed by Vic Coppersmith Heaven and assisted by Jacqui Turner, Tchad Blake’s better half, and a wonderful mixer and producer in her own right.

Johnny Phillips came across as well, as did my two daughters. We shared the studio with Deep Purple who were in studio two mixing down a version of “Smoke on the Water” recorded with the London Philharmonic at Albert Hall. How very Spinal Tap!

Peter Gabriel was recording his soundtrack for the Millenium Dome and seriously had four studios running on this project with a fine array of very talented assistants programming and track laying until all hours of the night.

RealWorld is everything they say it. A small river runs underneath the studio floor which is made of glass so you see the water flowing beneath. There are moats everywhere, and food laid on 24 hours a day. We had 7 days to record and mix the whole album, though we had already recorded the bulk of the tracks in Rabaul and in Melbourne. Phil Wales and Greg Patten much to their chagrin, didn’t get to come for budgetary reasons. All their parts were recorded in Melbourne. Frankston to be precise. Phil still hasn’t forgiven me for the “Oh fucking great... You get to go to Real World, I get to go to Frankston.” Sorry Phil, I couldn’t control the budget. Mind you he did get to travel the following year when George played at WOMAD Reading, and Shakespeare’s  Globe Theatre on the banks of the Thames.

Gator swamp in Louisiana, USA

Tempted Soundtrack – Louisiana, USA
Louisiana swamp that I spent hours in recording swamp bilas sounds — insects, water sounds, murk for the soundtrack to Tempted.

This hut was built by the art department as the hideaway and scene of the final shoot out. Beautiful building… The production company gave me a one tonne pick-up truck and a DAT player and I spent three days exploring the bayous and Mississippi River recording all sorts of wonderful things. These still, grey gator swamps has so much atmosphere and an eerie quiet to it only broken by the earth shattering sound of the US airforce jet’s sonic boom over head. Colours fade, calm and still... Yes, mosquito paradise. The Gator guides had this classic cajun Louisiana accent... Quite strange

(L to R) David Bridie, George Telek, Ben Hakalitz and Glen Low at Real World Studios

Womadelaide, 2001
It was 42 degrees and we played at 1 pm in the afternoon. Both Telek and I were booked to play at this wonderful festival. I was promoting Act of Free Choice CD still, but the main reason was to promote George’s Serious Tam CD, the album we mixed at Real World, co-produced by the legendary gent Vic Coppersmith Heaven, whose major claim to fame was that he had produced all The Jam’s records. Womadelaide has a policy of only allowing artists to play there twice, and George Telek had already reached his quota, but I had pleaded with the very agreeable organizers that since this the first PNG artist to be signed to Real World, and given the Real World link to WOMAD that maybe they could bend the rules a fraction and allow George this extra appearance. After a bit of negotiation they very kindly (“Just this once!!!”) agreed to Telek appearing and also booked myself so as to get two bands for the price of one. (George and I shared the one band... Phil Wales always but Michael Barker occasionally.)

Given the circumstances, I also arranged to get married the week after so that George could come to the wedding and sing Serious Tam at the ceremony as well as get drunk with all of our other very special mates. Yes... the ol’ “Don’t put too many eggs in one basket...”

And so shit happened.

A huge land dispute broke out in Rabaul, PNG the week before George was due to fly down to Melbourne. Since the volcanic eruption in 1994, land disputes and subsequent chaos are quite regular occurrences around those parts as those who have lost all their land in that disaster try and claim any bit of surrounding terrain to house their families and grow their crops.

Telek never got on the plane. There was no question for him, he was’t leaving home to put at risk his land that was his ancestral home. So we sheepishly apologized to the organizers of Womadelide and got Helen and Hope to play one extra tune at my nuptials. Anyway, this photo is part of the “Telek” performance.

We announced that “Today, due to unforeseen circumstances, the part of George Telek will be played by David Bridie.” Russell Smith (pictured), a Pitjantjara man and fine Yidaki player came onstage and joined us for “The Koran, the Ghan, and a Yarn” and “Salt”

It was so hot I blistered my left hand index finger on the Kurzweill, holdng down a drone note for the entirety of one song. Anyway, I remember it as being not a bad gig, though sweat poured through my eyebrows and salted up my stinging eyes... I think Christian Scallan is wearing a beanie!