you woulda thort a songwriting competition
was gonna arm yer olde humble scribe
with some bloggy ammunition
you know some arguments
or some aweful songs
or someone mind blowingly amazing
some angry contestants
a clash with other judges,perhaps
but no
it was a very very mild day
and relatively poor trawling for “incidents”
i left syd-knee at about 10 30
it was about 28 degrees celsius
(look it up on yer computer all you americans
who dont know what that is in fahrenheit
i cant be yer metric converter ferever)
after one hours smooth flyin’
ye olde pilate says the wind in yon melby be 80 knots
(whatever the fuck a knot is)
(but 80 of em is quite windy)
suddenly descending from the royal blue sky
we encounter the mellbinnish weather
the plane bounces around
plunges and shakes
olde sk got cold sweat coming
capitan in cockpitt
says
everyaone sit down now
oh im praying to vishnu
take this mother-ship down
finally after a loada
plummetting n jerking n swaying
we land in a huge spray of silver water
“welcome to sunny mellbin”
intones capitan joker pilate
“its 16 degrees”
i hurry thru aeropuerte easily
having no baggage
other than my rubber skin ipodd
and book
walk straight out the door
jump into yon cabby
i check to see if good sir cabby
wants a convahsation
nope
he dont
he doesnt speak the olde inglise that well
and hes happier if i stick me ipoddy back on
(how all this ipodding must be further fucking up my ears!)
i listen to a compilation cd a druid in italy gave to me
years ago in 2002
its got a little opera lite kinda stuff
italian amore amore romantic ballads
one track by lisa gerrard which sounds like
a song someone wrote in nineveh or carthage
in another language she only understands
this song is unbelievable
its simply unbelievable
and shes australian
its a bit like the singin’ she does on the glad-‘e ate ‘er
when croweys enterin’ the elysian fields
n mrs maximus is awaitin’ on him
to soothe his troubled brow forever n ever
lisas vibrato n control are fuckin breathtaking
just her n this string machine
the song swoops n glides thru strange pastures
at the end we hear an audience applaud
n we realise it was live!
this music being directly channelled
from another time n place
another track is by brendan perry
who was also the other half of the
super fabulous n medieval dead can dance
his track called the voyage of bran
is also a bloody beauty
close yer eyes
and yer in a coracle gently winding
a river in ancient britain
birds twittering n cawing in the soft engish summer
yer a celt
dressed in skins
and living in a world of deep beltane magic
perrys resonant voice and superb guitar
+ a few strange instruments i cant recognize
anyway after this song we arrive in northcote
where theyre havin a festival
trouble is the weathers havin’ a festivalof its own
called the cold windy n rainy festival
i make my way into this cosy little venue
out back of the town hall
very civilized indeed
the people running the show are very nice
the other judges are very nice
mick thomas from weddings parties anything
now with the sure thing
i dunno how to describe his music
sorta aussie colonial stuff
hes pretty popular down here in melb
and hes an honest friendly kinda bloke
the other judge was a lady
with a complicated non anglo name
that i dont wanna mispell
but she was v. nice n reasonable too
we were given these sheets
that ye olde real big songwriting contests use
they hadda loada questions on em
like
does the chorus differ from the verse
do the lyrics suit the music
do the lyrics have an emotional response
etc
and you had to give it a one to 4 rating
plus comments
the place was packed with family n friends
3 categories:open, junior, n a theme of celebration
yeah they were all pretty ok
a lady who sang a song about men
“i dont understand them n they dont understand me”
easily won the open
the under 18s were a bit harder
i said one
the lady said another
mick had the decider
when he said the one i said
the lady was very gracious
no argy bargy
which is great when yer there
but gives ya no “incidents” for yon blogge
the theme section was won by a dude
who didnt stick to the theme one little bit
but he hadda lovely song about money
that he sang in a lovely sad way
we decided to give him the prize
everyone was happy
organizers
crowd
other judges
even me
i made a little off the cuff speech
about the importance of songwriters
along the lines of
did ya know that it aint those
red wine swilling fat execs in their
vip bathroom skyscraper offices
who earn a million bux a year
workin for the xyz monopoly record co
that make the music biz go round?
nope
its the humble songrighter!
like moi
yer humble correspondant
anyway after gig n photos with winnahs
i drop in to visit the lord of misrule
and her white animal familiar
but only for about 20 mins
time for a cuppa n a smoko
then a cab driver from turkey
“sydney = istanbul
melbourne= ankara”
almost runs us into the barrier on freeway
about 3 times so engrossed in conversation
with yer humble reporter
(who has the gift of the gab n straddles all walksa life)
i have to say
yer a lovely man
but yer drivings atrocious
safely arrive at aeropuerte
buy roast vege fuccacio
but its all the fuckin veggies i hate
eggplant n capsicum…..yechhh!
big winds mean delayed for ages
finally come home
go to bed
get up
write this blogge
which leaves us
here
now

thats all