Australian Tour Diary

Part 5

14th March cont…
Today passes in a blur of sadness and sight seeing. I am often at pains to mention how little I usually see of the places I play but today Richard Collins takes me and Richard J around this beautiful city. We visit parks and view the amazing Swan river from several lookout points. In one park every tree is named with a fallen soldier from the Great War. The setting does not suit my mood. The sun shines and the weather is glorious. Several attempts to reach Nanna fail. When I do get through she is very sad and has been talking to her sister.
Our first plan was to have a holiday in Australia after the tour but that all changed when our son Tom told us he was emigrating to Thailand. He has been there for several months and we miss him and the grandchildren terribly. We adjusted our tickets so that we could call in to see them on the way back but it looks unlikely that Nanna will be able to go as the funeral has been panned for the 26th March. I am committed to engagements here and will not be able to make it so Nanna is trying to change her routing in order to arrive in Norway in time.
Shit happens.
I think Nanna should go to Norway when the funeral has been over for a week or so. She would be able to help her sister and be more supportive after a few days have passed. I want it understood and I might as well say it in print now that I don’t want anyone changing their plans for me when my time comes.
I expect some news today from Nanna.
One of the scabs comes off my right shin.

15th March
This evening I play at the Fly by Night Club. This will be my second time here and we expect a good audience. There are many of the festival acts appearing at all the same venues but so far we are doing quite well in terms of numbers.
Before the show Gill and Pete Brown drop by the dressing room. They had recently lost their son in an accident and are slowly putting their lives back together. I had not expected to see them this time but they were determined to come to the show. They left England 40 years ago and would never think of returning permanently home. Pete was the best friend of Buck Polly about whom Bert Jansch wrote the haunting “Needle of Death”
My show goes well thanks to an excellent Dutch sound man called Rick (Heinrick) He is extremely knowledgeable about pick ups, acoustic guitars and IEM’s. Afterwards I meet several old friends including Jan, a Streatham girl who also emigrated here. We reminisce a little before heading back to Perth. Everywhere is closed except an exceptionally loud Pub full of noisy drunk kids. There is still no threat present and the two Richards and I have a cold beer and finish off with a Kebab which I cannot manage. Plus ca change. After gig refreshment is always a problem but Oz does seem to close early. Kebab the food of rock and roll! Home late.
The scab comes off my left shin.

16th March
In the morning we journey back to Sydney where we will meet Nanna at the airport. The journey by air from Perth in a Jumbo Jet takes three and a half hours. Nanna is at the baggage carousel having stayed the last three nights in Sydney on her own. I have decided that I cannot let her travel to Norway alone and after discussion with Richard there does seem a window of opportunity to get home earlier. It does of course mean I won’t see my son and family in Thailand but we will try another time.
The Blue Mountains are a long slow climb up from Sydney and although sad there is an air of optimism about these shows. Once again many of the same acts will be appearing and I know this place quite well by now. The Clarandon Hotel is shabby chic and quite like no other that I have ever been in. Everything works but in an old fashioned way. Nanna and I have a bigger room than most and musicians are checking in all the time. Many of us greet and swap little anecdotes etc and the atmosphere is one of anticipation and a sense of community. Over the next few days I will meet Luka Bloom, Rory McCloud, Dave Swarbrick, Paddy Keenan, Colum Sands, Eleanor McCevoy, Hats Fitz (Dazzling guitar picker) Jimmy Conway (mighty mouth harp player formerly with the Back Sliders) Dan Crary and Don Ross, Eric Bibb and of course Danny Thompson. The sessions after the shows go on most of the night. The bar closes at three. I retire after the rest at 3am 4 am and 1.30.am. We plan to eat in town but never manage it. A diet of festival food and late nights with great company is not the best way to survive but no one wants the friendships and music to stop and we are weary but happy when the last show ends in triumph for Eric and Danny.
My IEM has caused more problems and overall this has been a depressing reality. It’s not because it doesn’t work it is an operative fault. Everyone it seems thinks they can wire it up better than its specified. Some engineers have even bragged that they never bother to read specifications. Every mixer is different. Every engineer is different. Ironically they all want the laurels for doing a good job but there is still a cavalier attitude amongst many and they all love to triumph over adversity. The trouble is that many of them create the adversity in the first place. I will need to refine my monitoring if ever I travel without Donard my tour manager. Even Donard would not have a prayer at any of the festival gigs as there is no time for sound checks. However once I did get started all the shows (with the exception of the winery) went beyond my expectations and even at the winery gig something very special came out of it. There is a pervading atmosphere among acoustic musicians that is very much the folk club tradition that puts up with a level of unprofesionalism as if it will somehow affect the integrity of the music not to do so. Getting on stage without a sound check is a nightmare and can turn even an old hand like me into a complete amateur if I cannot hear what I am doing.
I know a lot of people think we just turn up stand in front of the microphone and state singing. Once upon a time maybe. Nowadays Donard ad I arrive at a theatre at 4pm sharp, load in and if P.A is ready he commences S,C. this involves checking for phasing and tuning each particular room via the graphic EQ for the FOH. When this is done (usually half an hour,) he calls me to the stage and we begin with the guitars and voice, (about half an hour or more.) Then we commence with the IEM often half an hour. Then the lights and queues for the other operatives. Then I change guitar strings and do a final check and go and write my set list. We constantly try to raise the bar, and in so doing I add to my list of superstitious preparations because none of them apply to festivals.
On the morning of departure I phoned my old Mum (90) to wish her happy Mother’s day. I only realised because Nanna got several messages from our kids scattered all over the world. Leah is in France, Billy and Lucy are living in S Africa and Tom who we will miss on our way back, is in Thailand.

18th March
My next show is in the afternoon and I am a bit hazy but keen to get on with it. Once again Eleanor McCevoy is on before me and she does another excellent show finishing with Women’s heart and a new song called Wrong. My young sound men are wrestling with my monitor again and after a long intro I go on and plug into complete silence. The whole system has gone down under the strain of running a reverb unit and my IEM. I feel angry now and look at hapless Richard who can do nothing for my situation. I leave stage and wait ten more minutes before they can get it all going again. This time it works after a fashion and I resume.
The audience asked for a story but with no idea if I would ever be able to commence with the music, I had no alternative but to leave the stage while the boys sorted out the sound. This took a further ten minutes and I was close to hitting someone. It is Sunday afternoon and everyone is laid back except me. This is the umpteenth time technicians have screwed up the start to my shows and I am having to work really hard to get control of my emotions. As the performance goes on I get used to the earth hum in my headset and recover. In spite of all the problems the show seems to go over well. In the evening we all watch a great show from Eric Bibb and Danny Thompson and I chat at length with the gifted Rory McCloud. In the afterwards, there is more music from these wonderful guys and girls no one wants to sleep. I chat with Vin Garbutt and his wife Pat and sister Mary. In the end I go to bed fairly early at 1am only to be woken at eight by a vigorous banging on my bedroom door. Nanna still in night clothes and a behated Dave Swarbrick boldly walks in leans over the bed and gives me a big embrace. He tells us he could not leave without saying good bye. He is utterly incredible and is playing with Alistair Hewlett for a short tour here. Only a year or so ago he was confined to a wheel chair and permanently on oxygen. Since his double lung transplant he is working with a new energy and is truly a walking miracle as well as one of the great musicians of my generation.
After another big hug from Dave I get up and have breakfast. Today we are heading back to Sydney and after several long and protracted goodbyes we finally hit the road and arrive back at the Southern Cross hotel. Tonight is an evening off and we go out to eat at a steak and chips bar that Richard has found. I cannot eat all the meat that they give us here and Nanna’s steak was tough. We find a bar that sells Becks beer and have a few before calling it a day.

20th March
Today turns out to be an unforgettable one. Richard has arranged for us to climb Sydney Harbour bridge. I am not a bit worried as I tell anyone who will listen that I was a scaffolder for a while (Three weeks actually) We have to attend the Bridge climb office at ten thirty and it is a full hour of instruction and being fitted with suits radios belts and hooks before we commence the climb. I am not going to go through all the technical stuff but to say that it was exhilarating exciting emotional and triumphant will have to do. From the top of this visionary construction we look down on the opera house ( a lady tells me it has terrible acoustics in there) We gaze in wonder at the fabulous city of Sydney and are moved by the heroics and courage of the men who built it with no safety harnesses or ropes. Miraculously only 16 men died during the build. They scampered about the giant Mechano set like hamsters catching white hot rivets from furnaces high up in the air by using buckets with sand in them. Their only grip being the raised heads of rivets already in place.(my hands are moist just typing this).the whole experience lasted about three hours and will remain in our memories forever. I have decided to start tonight’s show with “UP”
The Harp is a music pub in Tempe a suburb of Sydney. These kinds of gigs are not my preference but many famous names have graced its stage. We are worried about the IEM and so go down for sound check at five. Eventually the system is up and running and I return for an hour to the hotel. On my return Pat Drummond is on stage and the small audience is enjoying his music. After the interval I get up and the system is not working again. This time I nearly lose it but just hold on to my temper and with the help of a pair of head phones for the engineer he regains control and the evening ends up going very well. Danny is in the audience and so is a bloke who first saw me in 1968 at the White Horse in Reading. (I wonder what ever happened to Sid who used to run that place?)
The evening ends in me being angry about what I call the end game”. Once again no one has thought about getting something to eat and I am stuck at the venue for an extra hour after the show. We end up in a seedy bar in China Town eating sandwiches from a Seven Eleven and I go to bed crusty and cheesed off. I sleep fitfully but wake early. I have cancelled interviews today to ensure that I can get back to England in order to connect with a flight to Norway. Carl’s funeral has to take place and this means we have to forgo our visit to the grandchildren and our short holiday in Thailand. Poor Nanna cannot even get on my plane and instead will have to fly to Brisbane tomorrow in order to collect a flight to London.
I will end this diary here. Usually the minutiae of a tour is confined to my memory, sometimes I have written notes and they contain many details of things that I would not normally share. In these episodes I have written a lot about the technical problems in getting my sound right. This has nothing to do with my overall impression of this marvellous country
Australia is a wonderful exciting place. The people are marvellous. They are positive, give their politicians a hard time. They care passionately about social and environmental issues. They play hard and work hard. Their humour is quick and sharp. They seem direct and honest. They are not good actors, acting is only lying, they are not good liars. Luka Bloom calls them paddies with suntans. It makes me think of the very best the English can be when the sun shines. Maybe that is the secret. All I can say is that in spite of the technical horrors, the premature burial, the rotten beer and weak tea. Australia is one of the friendliest places on the planet and though we badged it the First Farewell Tour I earnestly hope I will be back again. I am writing this in the airport at Sydney whilst waiting for my flight and I must now stop. Not because my flight is being called but there is a tape of the appalling John Denver on a loop and “Leaving on a Jet Plane” is due to be played again in a minute. I never liked the song and I can’t stand his whining voice and I am leaving this wonderful country for a funeral without Nanna.
Time to “Walk into the Morning”
… don’t know when I’ll be back again. All I know is that I will…