Before I became a mid-ranking bureaucrat, I used to participate in a regular segment on ABC Radio called “Talkabout”. It’s a “news review” program, broadcast Saturdays.
In my capacity as a mid-ranking bureaucrat, I was invited back this week and had a few things to say on the radio this morning about stuff…
Looking at my “Last FM” profile today, and in particular those I share musical tastes with, I notice the lack of any Australians and a preponderance of European men in their 30s and 40s (including those who have chosen Agnetha Faltskog and The Flying Nun as their avatars).
What should I make of this?
My workmate, Martin and I went for a drink after work today. Initially, we had thought of going to “Henry, Henry” at the Henry Dean Plaza, but as usual for a Friday it was busy and noisy. So we thought, then, of another nearby bar which, oddly enough was closed. And so wandered over to the Crystal Palace, one of those older-style pubs which hasn’t had one of those chrome and timber makeovers. It’s kinda daggy, and most of the crowd probably have drinking problems. But had we not chosen the Crystal Palace, I would not have met Linda Robson who played Tracey in “Birds Of A Feather”.
Just like the pub itself, “Birds Of A Feather” was a little daggy. But it was one of those great English comedies which survived for many years thanks to its simple honesty. I first remember watching it on a Saturday night sometime after “The Bill”. At its heart was the story of two sisters forced to live together after their husbands were sent to gaol. Working class girls through and through, they became unlikely friends with their middle-class next door neighbour, Dorian. Like the girls, though, she was also a little lonely, as she and her husband seemed to lead separate lives, and though Dorian was often portrayed as a bit of a slut, you knew she also had a heart of gold.
As Tracey, Linda Robson was the “nice sister” who remained in love with her husband behind bars, caring for the welfare of their son, and providing home and shelter to her her less well-off sister Michelle, played by Pauline Quirke.
Almost fifty, Linda Robson is in Australia for the “Grumpy Old Women Tour”.
When she and her grand-daughter (I imagine) sat down next to us she caught my eye. “Is it OK for us to sit here”, she inquired, concerned that the girl (who was maybe 10 or 11) wouldn’t be allowed to sit on the footpath bar outside the “Crystal Palace”. I assured her it was fine, even though I wasn’t entirely sure if it was a breach of the licensing laws.
As Martin and I were on our second beer, I had decided to ask her if I could have a photograph and had asked Martin if he would take the photograph. As we were about to leave I asked her, apologising for interupting the conversation she was having with her daughter (I think) and grandkinds. “No worries she said, though I better put on some make-up”, she joked. Of course, she could have told me to piss off, but didn’t and was really nice about the invasion of her private space.
As a way of apologising, I guess, I told her I was going to see the show next Wednesday night. “Hopefully, it’ll be alright by then” she joked in that wonderful accent of hers.
I thanked her, and immediately SMS’d a couple of friends who would know who she was. A nice moment. And of course, I couldn’t wait to blog about this.
“It smells nicer over here”, I thought to myself as I made my way to the Harold Reid Reserve. Harold, by the way was the Town Clerk of Willoughby Council from the mid 50s to the mid 60s.
A few weeks ago I booked myself on a walking tour of Middle Cove run by the Australian Architecture Association. Middle Cove is quite an interesting place, as it was part of the original land purchase by Sir Walter Burley Griffin which included Castlecrag and Castlecove. In common with those other areas, the roads follow the contour of the landscape, but you also see a lot of the influence of architects like Neville Gruzman, Bruce Rickard and Sydney Ancher. There were lots of others mentioned on the tour, though they weren’t names which instantly sprung to mind.
Our tour guide, Ben Gerstel is a local architect, and we even got to see some work he did which he was very proud of, I think. “So you have an interest in architecture?”, he asked me at one point. He also seemed interested that I’d come all the way from Surry Hills. He was a nice man who even gave me a lift back to the bus-stop after the tour’s conclusion. Also on the tour was a 30-ish couple (three kids under four) who were planning to move back to Queensland and to build their iwb home. It was interesting to see how closely they were looking at various design elements. I also had a brief chat with a woman who told me she scours the weekend papers for houses with interesting designs. She told me she and her husband will go to visit houses, especially modernist designs, simply because they’re interested in architecture and design.
It was a really interesting tour for lots of reasons. I found the varying sizes of the blocks of land very interesting. There were occasions were houses were very close together, hopefully leading to a great sense of community. You could see it in the number of streets which had basketball hoops actually on the street. It was interesting to see how “in tune” so many of the houses were with their environment. That said, there were some houses which I thought were extremely ugly. “It looks like a 1960s public school”, I joked about one house, only to discover it was an important early work for an architect who was influenced by Japanese design. Silly me.
Muf-Tee’s director, Les Solomon, has created a chat show with Hayden Tee as the host and the musical director, Nigel Ubrihien, as his sparring partner. By having a couple of cabaret-performing guests each week, they have a format which – like its small-screen counterparts – can constantly reinvent itself. It is a strange case of art imitating TV. – Sydney Morning Herald.
Last night’s show featured some beautiful work on cello, a couple of lovely songs from John O’May and some hillarious stuff from Gary Scale who performed “One” as a song about having one leg, and sang “This Is My Life” (Shirley Bassey) as a cork-screw! There was also a young guy called Hugo Chiarella who sang a song that was both American and too old for him. Still he’s an interesting performer.
Immediately afterwards I came home and wrote to ABBAmail. One of the guests was John O’May who plays one of the fathers in the Australian production of Mamma Mia. He said he’d signed a contract today until February 2005. After Sydney, he said the show has 8 weeks in Perth, 8 weeks in Adelaide, 3.5 months in Auckland, then it goes to Singapore and Hong Kong before returning to Melbourne!.
There was only one act in the first edition of “Melodifestivalen” this year who actually sang in Swedish. She had those classic Swedish blonde looks, an unmistakably Swedish name, and a gap in the middle of her teeth to rival Agnetha Fältskog at her prime. Well, before Agnetha’s gap magically closed when ABBA began to reach international fame. Despite these impeccably Swedish credentials, her song had a Spanish title, “Desperados” and was sung in the style of blue-grass country. I quite liked it actually. Well, kinda.
Although I know English is the international language of Western pop music these days, it would have been nice to have more than just one Swedish language pop song in this frst edition which I watched tonight, thanks to the interweb. Melodifestivalen, by the way is the Swedish competition which selects an artist to represent Sweden at Eurovision.
I was lucky enough to go to Melodifestivalen last year. I was there for the dress rehearsal on the night before the final. It was a spectacle and a half, as I sat with thousands of others in Globen, the big sports arena in Stockholm. And then on the night of the final, I was in a local gay bar called Torget, experiencing the event in a more intimate environment with a bunch of Swedes. It’s a great competition which I love following, and which I’ll write about from week to week on this blog.
As someone who is learning Swedish, it’s also a great program to watch: the Swedish is simple, slowly spoken, and dealing with pop music (familiar territory for me). And in my humble opinion, the quality of songs, artists and performances at Melodifestivalen is generally higher than Eurovision itself. That said, there was little this year which impressed me.
In the category of “classic schlager” there was “Unstoppable” by Jenny Silver, and in the category of “classic pop” there was “Oh My God” by Le Kid. And although I quite like Le Kid, especially for their song “Mercy Mercy”, I was a little disappointed with their song “Oh My God” which was, in my view, a little boring and dated.
Two other songs also fell into the category of “boring and dated”: “Try Again” by Dilba had a late 90s Tina Cousens feel about it, while “In The Club” by Danny barely made it into the 00s with its heavy synth sound. Oh that’s right, everything is retro and post-modern these days isn’t it? You don’t actually write a new tune any more, you just listen to old one, sample a bit, and re-release it under your own name. Of course, being as old as I am I wouldn’t recognise most artists these days are being respectful or ironic, not just completely derivative. It’s the “cut and paste generation”, as I’ve become to call them. Anyway, moving on…
Tragically, two of the singers, Jonas Matsson and Rasmus Viberg actually sang significant amounts of their songs out of tune.
The lack of “Swedish-ness” in Melodifestivalen was a current theme throughout the program. With each Melodifestivalen there’s usually a dramatic/comedy piece which links the material together. This year, a duo “interrogated” the contestants about suitability to represent Sweden at Eurovision with “their Swedishness” being a recurrent theme. It all came to a head with the artist, Swingfly who is an Amercian by birth, but who has been living in Stockholm since 1991. “I don’t understand a word you’re saying…” he says, or words to that effect, revealing he doesn’t speak Swedish. His song, “Me and My Drum” was okay, though hardly memorable.
Swingfly and Danny made it through to the final. In my view, the best of a bad bunch. Here’s hoping the following weeks will present us with something better.
The highlight, without doubt, was Nanne as the interval act.
It’s Saturday night and I’m at home in Lismore. We’ve just watched “The Simpsons” and had dinner and I’m just taking a few minutes out to update my diary before a night at home. Quite a bit has happened since my last update on Sunday night. I have been on holiday this week which is why I’m in Lismore.
Although I had always planned to come to Lismore this week, it was, perhaps a fortunate (?) co-incidence that I was here for the death of niece’s son, Lachlan. After fourteen months of suffering, he died on Monday morning. It has been good to be here for that reason alone.
I arrived Tuesday morning and the next forty eight hours or so was taken up with family things. The funeral was held Thursday morning. I was asked to read a passage from the Bible, Psalm 23, which I was a little apprehensive about – apprehensive that I would mess it up with nervousness – but it all seemed to go okay.
I have had a couple of social occasions, including lunch at a new Italian place with some colleagues and a drink or three last night at Lismore’s “gay and lesbian venue”, The Winsome. Last night was Karaoke Night, which meant that it was marginally better than the last time I was here. It reminded me, however, why I left Porpoise Spit.
There was a further reminder today at the Lismore Square, when I found myself surrounded, it seemed, by thousands of shopping trolleys and prams. Although I have looked with genuine interest, this time, at real estate in the area, which is extremely affordable, I recognise that, at this point in my life, it’s still not the place for me.
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you sounded great but if only you could have cut all the rubbish out….argh it took forever to listen to it. It’d be great if you do it again just to have the bits with you in it. the music and adverts and other interviews were comatosing. your voice sounds sexy on the radio so you’ve still got it!
So, Mr Content Director, were you secretly hip hopping in the background?
Graeme – Thanks. You know you can fast-forward?
Victor – I loved how everyone thought I was joking when I said my favourite music was Scandinavian trance!!!
I missed this yesterday so it was interesting to hear it. Thanks. Simone’s mother-in-law is one of our theatre group, and Simone sometimes joins us when she’s in Sydney. I think she has a gorgeous voice.