Smoky Dawson RIP
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Melodifestivalen 2006
It’s Monday night and I’m at home watching my favourite “geeky” television show, Call For Help which screens on the “How To Channel”. Fifteen minutes into the program and they’ve yet to tell me anything interesting, but it’s generally speaking a very interesting program. Aside from watching television, the last week or so has been a combination of good fun (lots of socalising) with lots of work though not much in the way of “culture” as is my usual want.
Damo and I went to dinner on Thursday at Pello, a terrific restaurant on Stanley Street, East Sydney. I’ve been there twice, and Damien has been there once before, and we’re both agreed it’s a great place for dinner. Although the entrees are, perhaps, a little overpriced, the mains are well-priced, though at a premium restaurant level. For the entree, I had a delicious blue cheese dish, which unlike most of the blue cheese I’ve had before, was smooth and sublime. It was accompanied by figs, pork belly and white asparagus. On their own each had strong flavours; combined they were a delight. For entree, Damien had the chicken, squab & foie gras galantine, peach & salty pistachio praline, which was excellent. For the main course, I had the Kingfish, which cooked perfectly, maintained its flavour, but wasn’t overpowering. For mains, Damien had the the crisp tallabung (it’s near Gunnedah) pork belly, prawn colcannon, apple puree & cumin essence, which was also excellent. The service is also excellent and I’d highly recommend it for a special night out, without being over the top.
On Friday, we had “farewell drinks” for Kirsty from work who is going off to a new job, though hopefully not forever. Afterwards, I caught up with Paul and Graeme for a drink or twelve. Paul left for the UK on Saturday, so it was a fitting farewell that we should have damaged our livers in such a manner. Now that he’s gone, I’m going on a detox diet! No seriously, it was great having him here, as discussed previously on this blog, and I look forward to his return.
Actually, speaking of Paul, I blame him and Patrick for my current interest/obsession in Melodifestivalen. What? Melodifestivalen is the series of country-wide heats held to determine who should represent Sweden at the Eurovision Song Contest. Last year when Patrick came to visit he brought his Melodifestivalen DVD with him containing ALL of the heats from last year’s contest and I became instantly hooked. So far there’s nothing quite as camp as last year’s “Drag Showdown” which included the oddest looking “Agnetha” I’ve ever seen in an ABBA tribute group. Go on, take a closeup look, you know you want to.
Unfortunately my favourite song so far, “This Woman” by Anna Sahlene has failed to make the Swedish final. The song starts off sounding like Donna Summer’s “On The Radio” before making its way into Cher “Strong Enough” territory. Although there’s a couple of good tunes, some of the other songs are just too appalling for words. If you’re a fan of bad pop, I’d draw your attention to “Oh Yeah” by Elephantz or “Kameleont” by the Electric Banana Band. And then there’s “Mi Amore” by Velvet which is a total Britney Spears ripoff (although contextually this is probably fine, since all of Britney’s songs were recorded in Stockholm with a Swedish writer and producer). If you want to listen to some of these songs or view the videos, there’s a terrific little website which I’d recommend.
One of the interesting aspects about Eurovision this year will be whether or not Magnus Carlsson makes it through with “Lev Livet”. Although I can well imagine enjoying this song on the dance floor, in my view it’s too cheesy for even Eurovision. But what would be interesting is that Magnus’ former bandmate in Alcazar, Andreas Lundstedt is in a band called Six4One, representing Switzerland. Alcazar broke up in a nasty fashion a few months ago with an acrimonious fallout. Magnus is a Linda Eastman, Yoko Ono kind of character, brought in to join the already successful Alcazar when he and Andreas began a relationship. But according to a report in Swedish newspaper, Expressen Magnus was interviewed by Expressen few days back, where he claimed that he had a field day playing around with the press in order to gain publicity. He said that he faked his relationship with Andreas Lundstedt just to gain publicity. Andreas Lundstedt, who was also a member of Alcazar, has told Expressen that he’s shocked by the comments made by Magnus. Andreas has told the tabloid newspaper that he used to love Magnus at one time, and he doesn’t understand why he’s made these comments. You can read more about this juicy tabloid story in English.
All of this, of course, and more, will be discussed at length at my annual Eurovision Party. The 2006 contest will take place in Athens on 18th and 20th May, with the usual Sunday night screening on SBS. Last year’s party was a hoot and I’m sure this year’s will be just as much fun. If you haven’t already, please mark it in your diary, and if you’d like an invitation to this exclusive event, drop me an email.
Anyway, nothing else to report. Working from home tomorrow, yes really I will be working, as I have a couple of major things to write and I need a quiet space away from the dailies and then catching up with fellow bloggers, Glen & Mark tomorrow night. Anyone else feel like a bevvy?
Boyers and Bitches
There was a real moment of history being in the audience for the speech delivered by the Governor-General, Quentin Bryce, as part of The Boyer Lecture Series.
In the midst of a speech about celebrating the diversity of Australian life, the two most news-worthy (and much quoted comments) concerned her (hinted) support for same-sex marriage, and her low-key support for the transition of Australian from Constitutional Monarchy to Republic.
As was reported by ABC News…
Ms Bryce, delivering the final Boyer Lecture of the year on Friday night, said she hoped Australia might become a nation where “people are free to love and marry whom they choose”.
“And where perhaps, my friends, one day, one young girl or boy may even grow up to be our nation’s first head of state,” she said.
As I personally support both things, it was a welcome affirmation, though you can understand why those opposed to such things, and those who have differing views to my own about what a Governor-General should and shouldn’t say, have expressed their concern. It was a moment of history, and it was good to be there.
“Do you think we’re the only ones here tonight, who are about to head off to see an Indigenous drag show…?”, I asked my friend. We both giggled out loud, as the contrast between the two audiences could not have been greater. The Boyers audience was very Anglo, very top end of town, very serious. In contrast, the audience for “The Bitch Is Black” was very irreverent, very Indigenous, and featured a greater variety of people attending, though we did have a drink or two with a former Federal Minister of the Crown who was there with his Indigenous partner.
The basic premise for the show (re-titled after the Elton John song, once covered by Tina Turner) was a drag tribute to the great black American female singers of the last fifty years. Whitney Houston, Aretha Franklin, Donna Summer, Diana Ross, Janet Jackson… you get the idea.
“Oh my goodness”, it’s my record collection”, I realised at one point. But for the three men performing the drag show (who said they grew up like lots of people singing along to their songs as teenagers), I’m guessing these artists had a lot of additional cultural significance due to the colour of their skin.
“We’d like to take the show on the road”, one of the guys told us later in the night as we chatted. Based on the reaction from the crowd – pure joy – I reckon the show would do well.
Though completely unplanned, we ended the night doing a bit of our own lip-syncing to great pop songs as Palms, the club on Oxford Street.
As we waited in line to enter the club we had a really bizarre conversation with a couple of guys. One of them was a little drunk, and so, a little unashamed blurted out, asking one of our friends if he was Aboriginal. When he replied yes, the guy then went on to say his grandmother was black, his father was black, his brothers and sisters were black, his cousins were black, and “some of his best friends” were black, but that HE wasn’t Aboriginal. “I think you might want to think that one through a bit…” we said to him. Life’s rich tapestry…
Saturday Afternoon
I had a great afternoon wandering around the city with The Other Andrew, who has also blogged the afternoon. Knowing of his interest in photography, I’d booked us in for a free tour with the curator of the Sydney Life exhibition currently in Hyde Park.
I’d had a brief look at the exhibition last weekend with Sam, but today I had a chance to really look at the works, and to learn more about them. And in a really terrific and unexpected move, a number of the photographers were also on the tour which added something really special to the experience.
Although there were some photographs which I still don’t find all that appealing, I’ve gained a lot more of an insight into the works, and some of them I felt half-half about, I now quite like. My favourite remains a photograph of a snake on pebbles in a suburban background (it’s almost like a dot painting), but there are others which I didn’t previously like (such as the birth shot) which I now really like.
The curator also noted how the works appear differently throughout the day depending on time and how much light is around. She also noted how they’re usually looking for works that will look good in a large format in the park, noting they need to be part of the environment of the park also.
From there, we wandered through the city, had a bite to eat, looking at books and record stores, before finally making our way up Oxford Street.
“Do you think we’re looking at it through rose-tinted glasses?”, I asked Andrew as we walked along Oxford Street and remembered that mid to late 90s vibe the place had. I wondered if the apparent drab nature of the street was a product of our cherished memories of youth. “I don’t think so”, he noted, pointing out the large number of closed shops.
In a positive move we noted, however, the Sacred Heart Church has re-opened. I don’t know exactly when it happened, but it’s obviously been sometime in the last few months. Peeking through the doorway, and not wishing to disturb those inside, we noted they had a done a beautiful job in refurbishing the place. “I don’t remember it looking this good”, I commented to Andrew at one point.
Late in the afternoon, we had a couple of beers at the Gaslight Hotel. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but I have a joke among friends now that it’s “Sydney’s Leading Bisexual Bar”. The joke all started when a friend and I were walking along Oxford Street and we spotted someone we know. In asking him if he wanted to join us for a drink at the Gaslight, he responded calling it by that phrase, and it’s kinda stuck ever since.
Morning Walk in Newcastle
I was up before dawn, determined to have a lovely walk to Nobby’s Beach at Newcastle, and to take some photographs along the way. The weather and beach didn’t disappoint, and it was pretty good to see a large cruise ship in the harbour, Rhapsody Of The Seas, attract attention.
Crying At The Discoteque
After years of listening to Swedish pop via record, CD, downloads and, more recently Youtube, I have now listened, watched, experienced, and danced to it, in its natural environment.
I went out last night to Lino. Although as an Australian I was tempted to refer to it as “lie-no”, of course it’s actually “lee-no”. In researching this trip, I’ve been looking at online, and the photographs of the crowd always seemed to indicate it was a pretty cool place. Maybe too cool for me, I thought. As I entered last night, I walked around for a bit of a reccy. There was an outdoor courtyard playing generic “cool music” where people were smoking. I must write sometime about the Swedes and smoking by the way. There was a room where they were playing generic kinda housey-disco. There was another bar of an indescript nature. But of course, I settled into the “schlager bar”. The bar was a fairly even mixture of men and women out for a good time on a Saturday night. OK maybe two thirds male and one third female, to be honest. They were all boozing up and singing along with the music. The music was loud, by the way, and definitely Swedish. And on the television screens they were playing this year’s Melodifestivalen DVD.
After years of waiting to experience something like this, I actually became a little bit teary for a moment. And then, of course, they played “Crying At The Discoteque” which is one of my favourites from the last ten years. “Oh my God”, I thought this is it… “some absolutely classic Swedish disco in an absolutely classic Swedish disco”. And then…“Mamma Mia” came on. OH MY GOD. At that point I thought I had died and gone to heaven. You know how in Sydney when you go out and ABBA comes on, it can sound a bit “rinky-dinky”, and is usually only played in a “retro” context for a bit of novelty value? Well last night, “Mamma Mia” sounded totally contemporary and totally in context with the rest of the music played.
Oddly enough they sometimes played the same songs over and over again in quick succession, which I thought was strange for a nightclub. The DJ last night, though, clearly LOVED the music he was playing, and it was infectious. The American tourists standing near me were totally overwhelmed by the sight of hundreds of people singing along to pop songs in Swedish. You could see the look of bewilderment on their faces as they walked through to the outdoor bar.
I don’t recall what time I got home, but it was just starting to become daylight, so I guess it was about 3.00am.
I got a little teary also tonight at the Peter Joback and Eva Dahlgren concert at Skansen. I’ve been aware of Peter’s work since he appeared on the original CD for “Kristina fran Duvemala”. Along the way, I’ve picked up three other CDs. I wasn’t, however, really aware of Eva Dahlgren (nor her work), though I knew she was a legendary Swedish “rock chick”. Without the intimate knowledge of their respective back catalogues, I lacked some of the instant familiarity with the work enjoyed by the rest of the audience. Also, because all of the songs were in Swedish (along with all of the patter in between), I sometimes found myself a little confused. I could understand the basic premise of some of the anecdotes, but the punchlines usually went over my head. Although there was a funny bit relating to musical instruments. As an encore, they began a song together playing recorders (flute things) of differing size. When Peter said something along the lines of wishing he had the bigger one, Eva responded along the lines of “of course you do”. I understood that joke perfectly.
I had an excellent seat on the far left-hand side of the second row. I’m reasonably sure Lena Ulvaeus (Bjorn’s wife) and daughters were sitting in the same row, though I’m not sure, as I haven’t seen photographs of them for a while. She did, however, laugh and scratch her nose during an extended anecdote about Bjorn and Benny. But the concert itself? Wow, what a great experience. Peter is a much better singer live than I’ve ever heard captured on CD. He has a lovely voice which can both be gentle and soar, and really has a “joyous” quality to it. He seems to sing well effortlessly. Eva also had a wonderful voice, which really shone when she sang slow and gentle ballads. Most memorable was a song with the recurring line about “I saw you” which was sung beautifully and with passion. The song which made my eyes well up, though, was “Stockholm i Natt”, one of Peter’s recent hit songs. It’s a love song about Stockholm in effect, as it takes you on a journey around the city, with specific mentions of places like Medborgarplatsen and events such as the assasination of Anna Lindh in 2003. And so I’m sitting there, listening to a wonderful song sung by a great performer, about a terrific place that I’ve longed to visit for many years, and I’m looking at both him and the wonderful Swedish summer evening… so of course my eyes welled up. Does life get any better, I thought to myself. And I really loved their third encore, yes third, a song called “Juni, Juli, Augusti”. I know this sounds all very dramatic for those in Europe who can regularly go to Stockholm and have this experience, but for a kid from the bush in Australia, it’s all very exciting indeed.
Afterwards I followed the crowd out and caught the ferry from Djurgarden to Slussen. I couldn’t believe how many people they managed to squeeze on board. Catching the ferry, I was squeezed in tightly between a couple of gay boys and a male/female couple. Needing to steady myself I held on to the railing. And then the woman kinda lent against me and plopped (and rested) her left boob on my hand. I’ve had to totally re-think my attitudes to personal space since arriving in Stockholm, clearly.
Online Dating
I’ve spent a little bit of time in the last few days – including tonight – looking at online dating sites. I do this from time to time when I’m not out and about, when I’m not working, and when I’m not chatting with people online.
I don’t know why I bother. Deep down inside I’m genuinely not looking for a relationship. I’m pretty happy in my life right now and I quite like living alone. I quite like the solitary life, and probably deep down that’s my natural inclination. By nature I’m probably a little too selfish to be someone you could live happily with. And messy…
But looking at online sites? What’s that about? Perhaps it’s “insurance” for the future? Perhaps there’s something deep inside me which is saying “you may not want a relationship now, but you might want one in five years, so quit stuffing around you middle-aged middle-class wanker?”. But there again, that’s all rather selfish isn’t it? Wanting a relationship because of what you need, as opposed to what you both bring together? And not really why you go into a relationship, is it? Or is it?
As I’ve glanced around these sites I’m not really sure why some of the people are there either. Well, I am sure on some of the sites. On some of the sites, “my people” appear only to be there for a bit of hanky-panky. There’s a lot of people who don’t appear to have a face. You read about some people who sound quite nice and interesting and then you note they have the word “tripod” somewhere in their profile name. There seems to be a lot of people looking for a bit “on the side” “during daytime hours” if you get my meaning.
On the other side of things, there appears to be a few people desperate for a relationship. For some people you see the “biological clock” (or the “psychological clock”) ticking ever so loudly. I’m obviously not one of those people either. If I was to pursue online dating I’m not really sure where I’d fit in. I tried “E-Harmony” which has been advertised on television lately, which directed me to their homo equivalent, “Compatible Partners” and found only three people in the whole of Sydney who matched me for similar age, similar interests etc.
I’ve tried online dating previously. I’ve had a couple of online dates in the last few years. One involved someone who clearly wanted to have sex then there, now, within minutes, in a “do we have to leave the restaurant, can’t we have sex in the toilets?” scenario. On the other occasion, the bloke appeared to be interviewing me for the recently advertised “vacant position” of “boyfriend”. Half way through the “interview process”, I got the strong impression I hadn’t gotten the job. But at the same time, I was kinda relieved.
Clearly it works for many people. It obviously doesn’t work for others. I’m still left wondering if online dating is not for me, or if I’m not for online dating. Maybe it’s not how I connect to people? Maybe I’m better face to face or getting to know someone over several years, as opposed to online?
There again, maybe I’m looking in the wrong places? Someone I know recently told me he’d met someone through Twitter…
Ohhhhh… I remember when this photo was taken.
Wasn’t Smoky a gentleman.
Vale.