Crap Band Photography Part 2

Welcome back to Day 2 of the Mint Custard Crap Rock Photography exhibition. And before you ask, no, it's just the photography that's crap... All these pictures were taken pushing my Sony Ericsson's enormous 2.0 megapixels to the max so that you, and your descendants, could sample the atmosphere for yourself. Let us dwell no more and get stuck in...

Pop intellectual turned folk troubadour Lloyd Cole strums for the Thornbury Theatre audience in Melbourne. Please be assured that I wasn't actually a kilometre away from the stage - it just seems that way.

And whilst we're at the Thornbury Theatre, let us remember Candle Records heroes the Lucksmiths, captured here for posterity at their last but one ever gig. I attended this concert in my slippers. Which was nice.

A crowd of backpackers chant for an English band at some theatre or other in Sydney. Said band were not as good as said crowd drunkenly believed.

The unmistakably slight silhouette of Mr Jarvis Branson Cocker, erstwhile of Pulp, seen here at the Metro Theatre in Sydney for his first solo tour. Mrs Custard took this, hence the slightly higher than average picture quality.

Mr Cocker again, flanked by Mr Steven Mackey (erstwhile of Pulp) and Mr Martin (M) Craft. Note other person taking photo of same scene. I assume theirs came out better than this.

And last for today, my most favourite picture that I took on my old phone. If you don't know that's Mr Robert Forster, with bassist Adele Pickvance in the background. This was taken in the Studio Theatre, Sydney Opera House during Forster's first post Go-Betweens solo tour. The show was so good this was the only picture I got around to taking.

More from my mixed bag of photographic nuts tomorrow...

Robert Forster, Toff in Town, Melbourne

How strange it must be being Robert Forster. Now in his sixth decade, the former Go-Between has been spending time since the unfairly-enforced end of the group writing about other people’s music for Australian arts and society magazine The Monthly. The first collection of his articles - The 10 Rules of Rock and Roll – was published late last year to critical acclaim. With pieces on Bob Dylan, AC/DC, Nana Mouskouri, Cat Power, Grant McLennan, Franz Ferdinand and even Delta Goodrem, it is as erudite, passionate and funny as you would expect and utterly recommended.

As pleasurable as Forster’s writing is I can’t help thinking that, to quote from his last album ‘something’s not right, something’s gone wrong.’ No doubt he wouldn’t even entertain the idea, but Forster’s own musical talent dwarfs that of the majority of his book’s subjects. In dissecting their music I wonder if he ever questions this peculiar alignment of the celebrity stars or considers just what does one have to do to marry art with commercial success? It certainly doesn’t show in his writing, but he’d have every right.

Tonight’s show is representative of yet another such distortion. As one half of this country’s greatest song-writing partnership, the idea of Robert Forster playing a venue as tiny as the Toff in Town should be too absurd to be true. The room is barely big enough to contain the man himself, never mind the scores eager to see his only Melbourne shows of 2010.

Whether the Toff was deliberately chosen for its intimacy, through a vast underestimation of demand or genuinely reflects Forster’s solo pulling power is unclear but to compare with an artist of similar vintage, an equally solo and acoustic Lloyd Cole sold out the vast Thornbury Theatre late last year. Inevitably tonight is a sell out which makes for a cosier time than expected, but at least everyone has a good view.


The performance itself begins with a curtain slowly pulled back to reveal the six foot three frame of Forster theatrically posed on an old wooden chair like one of Rodin’s statues with a guitar looking like he’s been waiting there for hours. It’s typical Forster, both arch and slightly aloof and part of his repertoire of hammy, eccentrically comical stage moves which also see him appearing to float around his acoustic guitar which seems to remain magically static in mid air.

Without a band tonight’s set differs greatly from the 2008 tour to support The Evangelist, an album which is conspicuous by its absence tonight. Instead Forster punctuates songs from the two Go-Betweens eras with choice cuts from his nineties back catalogue. We are treated to Snake Skin Lady replete with back story, and an eerie Danger in the Past with a foreboding Forster as Kingsley’s Mrs Doasyouwouldbedoneby from the Water Babies.

Still rightly proud of his contribution’s to the Go-Betweens’ 2000 comeback album the Friends of Rachel Worth, there are outings for German Farmhouse, Spirit and an apparently ad hoc encore of Surfing Magazines. Born to a Family and Darlinghurst Nights are pulled from 2005’s Oceans Apart and offer more evidence that the Go-Betweens reformation was one of the few in rock history worth its salt.

Inevitably though the biggest cheers of the night go to two of the Go-Betweens best known Eighties songs, played out as call-and-response with the crowd. McLennan’s Streets of Your Town (“…shi-i-i-ine…”) and Forster’s Spring Rain (“…falling down like sheets…”) bring a gentle euphoria to the room as well as a few moist eyes. The night concludes in raw beauty with a tender Dive for Your Memory, with the wistful refrain of ‘when I hear you saying that we stood no chance, I’ll dive for your memory, we stood that chance’ gently mouthed by everyone in the room.

Whatever the logic behind tonight’s venue there’s no denying that being able to observe your heroes at this range is a rare treat. In a week where Australia’s biggest news story concerned a cricketer and his girlfriend, it was nice to hide away from it all amongst people who know that Robert Forster - songwriter, critic, author, artist, is – to paraphrase the man himself, one thing greater than all the things that he is together.

Visit Robert’s website here

Buy The 10 Rules of Rock and Roll here

Lloyd Cole, Thornbury Theatre, Melbourne

Although he almost certainly doesn’t know it, Lloyd Cole and I have been shackled together for almost twenty years. A school friend did me a tape of the Lloyd Cole and the Commotions compilation 1984-1989 when it came out and it was enough get me hooked on black turtle neck jumpers for life.

Before you get ideas otherwise, I’m not making spurious claims to teenage hipness or music credibility. Kylie was very much on my walls and walkman at that time, and I don’t think baggy XXL James t-shirts were ever cutting edge fashion. It’s just that whenever my teenage brain needed a dose of ‘grown up’ Lloyd Cole seemed like the most grown up and - more importantly - the coolest grown up around.

When I eventually got around to growing up a bit myself, Lloyd remained several paces ahead. By the time I was experiencing the academia blues and government grants he sang about in 1984, he had already given up his search for ‘a religious girl with child-baring hips and a wedding veil’ and was imploring his latest lost love to ‘take a half of everything and please go.’ To me these were the rites of passage chopped into bite-sized pieces, ready to be washed down with glugs of red wine, whiskey and cigarettes – a more interesting mix than the cheap bitter and triples-for-a-pound I was living off.


Fifteen years on I’ve caught up some more. Sadly, whilst I might have learnt how fall in and out of love, drink for pleasure more than paralysis and wear a suit without looking like a complete dick, I still don’t look as cool or brooding as Lloyd on the cover on 1993’s Bad Vibes. And yet – somewhat reassuringly - neither does he.

Not to suggest that he has done a Boy George. The Lloyd Cole who toured Australia last week was still Hollywood handsome and - despite self-depreciatingly suggesting otherwise – trim. What was missing was the attitude. For me the loveliness of songs like Let’s Get Lost and Undressed were evidence enough at the time that his Mr Grumpy act was just that, but Cole’s moody, gentle arrogance and unapologetic seriousness were very much part of his post-Commotions shtick. Album covers and tour posters determinedly keep up the charade, but these days Lloyd in the flesh is humble, personable and a tad less serious than he used to be.

His show at the Thornbury Theatre reminded me of his initials-sake Leonard Cohen’s breezy live performances earlier this year (indeed Cohen's Tower of Song makes an early appearance). Cole’s more relaxed approach is inclusive but takes nothing away from the music itself which, if anything, is more potent for the clarity with which the words can be heard over his lone acoustic guitar.

Reinvented over the past few years as a self-styled folk singer, Cole has become adept at mining and recasting gems from his 25-year catalogue. The concert’s two-part set offered acoustic takes from just about every album from Rattlesnakes to his recent rarities box set, Cleaning Out The Ashtrays with some songs radically reinvented, others trimmed down to their bare bones.

Amongst such diversity, it was noteworthy how often the word young seemed to crop up. The sublime Don’t Look Back (‘life seems never ending, when you’re young’), Music in a Foreign Language ('forgive me if I'm less than awed, by your world-weary twenty-six year old') and Woman in a Bar (in which Cole declares himself 'no longer angry, no longer young, no longer driven to distraction not even by Scarlett Johansson’) share a ruefulness that camouflages the sixteen years that elapsed between their creation.

Such sage self-reflection is nothing new (as if to prove it, the evening starts with 29’s memorable couplet ‘life begins at 30 so I have been told, I can easily believe it the way I’m getting on’) but the idea that youth always feel like it’s slowly slipping away – even when you’re approaching 50 and should probably have gotten over it – is an interesting one; doubly so for someone who has spent time wishing away his youth and looking at people like Cole for inspiration on how to age.

Still I came away from the show with a sense that Cole is reasonably content with his lot. Relaxed and jovial, he seems keenly aware of his position somewhere between ex-pop star and travelling salesman hawking his wares. It’s some way from Top of the Pops and next-big-thing status in the NME, but though his younger self might have baulked at the idea it’s clear he understands the privilege of being a musician and the continued opportunity to make a living from it. Not a bad place to be, babe.

Musically I would be remiss not to admit that after three perfect rounds down under of Cole solo and acoustic, it would be lovely to see him pull an electric guitar out of his kitbag. His folksinger period has been wonderful and I’m sure it’s nice to travel the world without having to worry about others people's egos, but it’s been a while since we saw him with even the smallest of touring groups. Perhaps next time?

As for me, well, as long as Cole continues to document his times with style, there is no chance of me ever closing the age gap. Maybe my lesson is to enjoy being where I am too.

A Jingle, Jangle Morning

Some mixed fortunes this week for people who like their music intelligent and sporadically jangly…

Sadness because this is the week we say goodbye to the Lucksmiths, one of my favourite Australian groups. Being one of Australia’s best bands they, like the Go-Betweens before them, have sold bugger all records and as a result this weekend’s duo of Melbourne concerts will be their last.
The Lucksmiths were the first Australian band I ever saw and the first band that I saw with Mrs Custard. She put Smokers in Love on the first mix-tape she ever made me. Aw, bless. They were playing at the Hopetoun in Sydney and reminded me of the Housemartins. Through them I heard about other Candle Records acts and discovered a whole new world of indie down under.

In particular the Lucksmiths have a distinct and quite lovely way with words. They capture the joys of the pleasurably mundane (crosswords, reading the paper in in bed, smoking, sitting around on rainy days) better than most. This flows into their sweet and realistic love songs which are always high on romance, nostalgia and longing with healthy sprinklings of unrequited-love scattered throughout. The objects of their affection often have quirky habits and back stories so you find that you're listening to a story as much as a song. Travel and geography are also important aspects of their lyrics, with the great distances required both to get to Australia and to travel within this huge continent used metaphorically to describe the pains of being apart. Like the Go-Betweens before them, the Lucksmiths world, whilst universally understandable, is very much set against a backdrop of their Australia - and for that read the trams, cafes, street corners and record stores of Melbourne.

I left Australia not long after seeing them that first time at the Hopeton. Flying out of Melbourne I did a quick whistle stop of the record shops to get some music to take back to the UK. I ended up in Polyester Records and innocently asked the person behind the counter if they had heard of a band called the Lucksmiths and did they have any records of theirs. They were very friendly and pointed me towards a surprisingly healthy amount of stock. I nattered on with them for a while about how I really liked them and then bought a few singles and albums to remind me of my trip. I found out a few months later that Polyester is basically the home of the Lucksmiths and at least one of the band works there. It's hard to imagine many other bands as good as the Lucksmiths being so unassuming in that situation.

The Lucksmiths are playing with the Smallgoods at the Thornbury Theatre on Friday 28th August. Tickets are still available so it’s still not too late to come along and give them the goodbye they deserve. Their last ever show is at the Corner Hotel in Richmond on Saturday 29th. Quite rightly it’s been sold out for months.




More pleasant and not totally unrelated news, given his propensity for an intelligent lyric and a jangly chord, is that Lloyd Cole is returning to our shores in November as part of a very quick jaunt around the world. He will also be playing at the Thornbury Theatre for the Melbourne leg, as well as the following dates around Australia:


Friday 6 November: Hepburn Springs, The Palais
Saturday 7 November Brisbane, Powerhouse Theatre
Mon 9 November Freemantle, Fly By Night Club
Wed 11 and Thu 12 Nov Sydney, The Basement


He’s also taking in the west coast of America, New Zealand, Singapore, Paris and England before finishing up in Glasgow as part of promotion for his four CD box-set of rarities, Cleaning out the Ashtrays. Dates and booking details for all shows are available on Lloyd’s website.

If you haven’t seen him do his solo acoustic thingy I can heartily recommend it whether you’re a fan or not. The evenings are usually pretty intimate; you could hear every hushed word during songs at The Basement a couple of years ago. Lloyd himself is pretty comfortable in his own skin and pretty adept at playing up to his grumpy young man (but getting older) persona.


I know from personal experience that this is mostly slight of hand, as he’s actually an exceedingly nice chap. He signed some records and a set list for me after a gig in Toulouse and then he and I got done at babyfoot (table football) by some local fans who were clearly semi-professional. I told this story to my disbelieving French friend who came with me when Lloyd played the same venue six months later. Sure enough Lloyd was up for a bit more babyfoot. This is my friend on the right casually kicking Lloyd’s arse…


It’s worth saying that Lloyd has many, many songs equally good if not better than those on Rattlesnakes – his most famous album with the Commotions. His first eponymous solo effort (also known as ‘X’) is one of my favourite albums and used to make me feel like the oldest 15 year old in town. Check out Don’t Look Back and Undressed for a hint of the times to be had in November.

And finally, whilst we’re talking front men gone solo, Jarvis Cocker is also returning to Australia to play songs from his new album Further Complications. Strangely Cocker is only two years younger than Lloyd Cole yet their imperial phases stand well over a decade apart. It’s unlikely that Jarvis is ready to dip back into the Pulp catalogue but no matter, because Further Complications and 2007’s self-titled contain more than enough songs to entertain.


Jarvis is playing as part of the Meredith Music festival as well as the following dates around Australia:

Sat 5 Dec Brisbane (Hi-Fi Bar)
Mon 7 Dec Sydney (the Metro)
Tues 8 Dec Freemantle (Metropolis)
Thu 10 Dec Adelaide (HQ)
Friday 11 Dec Melbourne (the Forum)

Tickets are available from Ticketek as of... (wait for it...) NOW!