tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:/blogs/latest-news?p=10
Latest News
2019-04-29T22:24:55+10:00
Patrick Evans
false
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/5032058
2018-01-19T23:30:29+11:00
2022-07-27T09:12:08+10:00
Something about Folk Music or revisiting The Lakes Of Pontchartrain
<p>Having just returned from a fabulous weekend of music at the Cygnet Folk Festival, (and having played more tunes on the fiddle than I have for years) has put me in a reflective mood on the music I love and seem to return to again and again. The previous weekend I spent a day (and a night) at The Lake School in Koroit, playing and singing my heart out with so many friends I've made along the way. Leading up to all this was several weeks of pretty intense fiddle practice as I tried to make sure I'd be able to keep up with the amazing Ewen Baker as his "support" fiddler. Yes, the song writing has taken a break for a few weeks as I've become immersed in the treasure trove that is traditional music.</p>
<p>Traditional folk music has always spoken to me. I recall quite clearly being given one of those thin records (probably by a grandparent who picked it up for free as a promotion with the Herald or something) that came in magazines and books in the 60s and 70s. It must have been about 1974 and I would have been 11 (same age as my daughter Sofia is right now). In those days our parents were still able to protect us from much of popular culture (we didn't have TV and the radio was pretty much rusted on to 3LO or 3AR. I'm not sure if ABC FM had entered our lives yet at that stage. Dad had an enormous record collection but it was mostly Bach, Handel, Mozart or audio play versions of Shakespeare. I do remember listening to Dylan Thomas' Under Milk Wood over and over as well. of course there were hymns at church and Christmas music as well as the music on "Sentimental Journey" on Saturday nights on 3LO (which is where I learnt a bunch of jazz standards that would come in useful much later in my musical life) but I had almost no knowledge of the pop music my friends talked about at school.... Anyway, this thin record I mentioned turned up in a Shell Petroleum sleeve and was some kind of promotional thing, designed (I assume) to help identify Shell as dinky di Aussies. The record was basically the story of first European settlement in Australia and included versions of songs like Bound for Botany Bay, Moreton Bay and others. This record was so thin you had to sit it on another record to play it, and play it I did, over and over and over. I remember our parents went out one night and the poor lady babysitting us had to put up with me playing it about 6 times. In the end she said "enough, enough" and I had to go to bed (I went to bed later than the others, the benefits of being the eldest). Those were the first songs to speak to me that I can recall. I know them still, word for word.</p>
<p>Which brings me to the present... I've started recording my first solo album at Audrey Studios with the wonderful Craig Pilkington looking after all things technical. Most of the songs are down in their basic form (this is a folk record so I want to keep it simple) but there is still a lot of work to do between here and finished, so next weekend I will be launching a pledge campaign to help fund the record so I can get it finished and finally have something of my own out there. Part of the promotion for this will be weekly posts of videos I have made in the front room of our house with the help of the multi talented Gordon Tresider (where would I be without Gordon?). The first video will be of one of the songs on the album, but I'm starting this off with a bit of a preview. This song is The Lakes Of Pontchartrain and it's one of my all time favourite traditional songs. I first heard it sung at a folk festival in Horsham while I was playing in Tam'O'Shanter which would put in in 1983 I would think. All I could remember of it at the time was the timeless melody and the line "if it weren't for the alligators I'd sleep out in the woods". And that's one of the great things about traditional music. Some of the lines are unforgettable. Another of my faves is "give corn unto my horse mother, meat to my man John" from The Drowned Lovers (Nic Jones, Penguin Eggs) or "Ye see yon Birkie called a Lord, wha struts and stares and a' that" (Robert Burns) just to name a few. Anyway, some years later I discovered the Paul Brady version of "Lakes" and it's been right at the top of my list of traditional songs ever since, even though I had absolutely no clue what it was about. Knowing I was going to post my version of this song I thought I'd better do a bit of research. In the halcyon days of the folk singer I would have taken the train to Cecil House or one of the better libraries and lost the best part of a week buried in dusty old books looking for the origins of this obscure song, and I would have found seventeen versions collected from different counties in the UK and written a paper for publishing in the folk club monthly on my findings, then downed a porter and bread and cheese sandwich at the local pub, but that was then. I'm a 21st century folk singer so I brewed a cup of herbal tea, grabbed the iPad and consulted Wikipedia. It seems that "Lakes" is likely a bit of a combination of a song from the wars of 1812 when many Irishmen went to fight for the British or French armies in America and from the period of the American Civil War when there were confederate and union currencies, only one of worth depending on where you were "I cursed all foreign money, no credit could I gain". The last mystery is the origins of the Creole girl in the song. Creole could mean many things (from blonde born of European parents in America to dark of mixed parentage) but in my mind she's a dark haired beauty. Not that it matters, she's promised to another "and he is far at sea" in any case. As with many traditional songs "Lakes" has probably evolved from several songs which only adds to its mystery and appeal in my book.</p>
<p>So, here it is "The Lakes Of Pontchartrain". I hope you enjoy it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="TC45URRuJC0" data-video-thumb-url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/TC45URRuJC0/mqdefault.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/TC45URRuJC0?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="180" width="320" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe></p>
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/4936603
2017-11-17T21:50:15+11:00
2023-12-11T05:09:49+11:00
The Deni Uke Muster
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/d06046158f0524105a32168bdc48015e7574869d/original/deniukemuster2017-poster-sq-web-orig.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Yes, it's been a while. I didn't realise how long it's been since I last posted a blog but life's like that I suppose.. It keeps getting in the way of the things you tell yourself are important and we end up dealing with the things that actually are important. Nonetheless it's time to update things.</p>
<p>Item 1 - I'm heading off to Deniliquin tomorrow morning with my good friend Gordon Tresider on another Folk Bloke adventure, and this time it involves ukuleles. Yes, although I've attended many ukulele festivals as an instrument maker and supporter this time I'll be playing a set of my songs on the prototype Maton Concert uke accompanied by Gordon on a very recently acquired bass ukulele at the Deni Uke Muster tomorrow night. What could possibly go wrong? It's been an interesting exercise bringing the songs over to uke. First there's the transposition exercise and the lack of bass strings. Not too taxing for someone used to transposing on the fly but it gets interesting once the chords become a bit complex. I've realised I almost never play a straight triad anymore. There are always added 2nds, 4ths and 7ths and I didn't even know I was doing it. I guess that happens as you learn more James Taylor songs.... But, even more challenging, many of the songs are inn DADGAD so in my head I'm going from DADGAD to conventional tuning then up a 4th to ukuele tuning. Like I said, what could possibly go wrong? Nonethe less I'm really looking forward to tomorrow night. It's going to be great fun and who knows, it might even turn out great!</p>
<p>Back on more familiar ground I'll be presenting a workshop on Sunday covering the background to the design and production of the Maton Ukulele range as well as an in depth look at the manufacturing methods we use to make these wonderful little instruments. </p>
<p>Item 2 - There are a few gigs coming up including a fundraiser with the Kathryn Clements and Andrew Cooper for the Asylum Seeker Resource Centre on Saturday, November 25 at the Footscray Arts Centre, 2-3pm. I will also be doing a spot at the Darebin Songwriter's Guild (Bar 303 High St Northcote) starting at 3pm, Sunday December 3. I'm really chuffed to have been asked by Claymore to join then at their New Years Eve show at Ariette's Concert Lounge (Croydon). It's always brilliant to share the satge with the lads and I know this will be a ripper. They'll do the best Auld Lang Syne ever!</p>
<p>What else is happening? Oh yes, I'm heading down to the Cygnet Folk Festival in January with Ewen Baker and his fine band of minstrels to play at my first Cygnet festival. This is going to be a musical highlight for me and Ewen's given me about 38 tunes to learn on the fiddle at breakneck speed. Once again, what could possibly go wrong?</p>
<p>Lastly, I've been in the studio working on my first solo album under the care of the brilliant Craig Pilkington at Audrey Studios. It's coming along nicely but there is plenty of work still to do. More on this as it goes along....</p>
<p>I think that'll do. It's been a great year for collaborations. I've made lots of new musical friends including Tom Bolton, Leigh Sloggett, Cyril Moran, Kathryn Clements, Andrew Cooper, Ronnie Talbot, Billy Dettmer and Keith Rae as well continuing to make music with Suzette Herft, Gordon Tresider and many others. I wonder what next year will bring? More of the same I hope! In the meantime....My Dog Has Fleas........</p>
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/4663429
2017-04-09T01:02:22+10:00
2022-04-18T15:27:24+10:00
Farewell Danny Spooner
<p>It’s taken me a while to think this through but I wanted to farewell one of the great mentors in my life properly. </p>
<p>Danny Spooner was a constant in my life. He never really changed and I guess, like many, I thought he would go on forever. So it came as a shock when I heard he was ill. I don’t recall him ever being sick. The man was indestructible! That was part of his legend, he was always there, always chirpy and always “up for it”. I am really pleased I was able to see him a week or two before he died. It was important to touch base, even if only for a few minutes. </p>
<p>I played fiddle for Danny on and off for nearly 30 years and I am honoured to have done so. There were large gaps in our playing together when I was really busy with bands or he was doing something different but, just when I started thinking it was finished the phone would ring “Hello Pat, it’s Danny. Ow are ya mate? I’ve got a luvly little gig at (fill in the gap) and I thought it would be great if maybe you and I could do it togever. What do ya reckon? And by the way, ave you got any of those strings you gave me last time?” And so we’d do “a little practice” somewhere, do a couple of shows, agree to do more and then life would get in the way again. That’s how it would go. </p>
<p>Danny was timeless. Thinking about it now I can remember minute details of gigs we did together but they all roll into the same gig and I couldn’t tell you when they happened. It could be two years ago or twenty. One of the reasons it’s hard to pin down is he paid absolutely no attention to trends or directions in folk music so there are no “this era or that era” chronological guides to go by. That’s not to say he didn’t develop or change. He certainly did, in fact his repertoire was constantly evolving, it was hard to keep up with and I decided at some point that he lived in a parallel universe where there was an entirely different repertoire that everyone knows and he would spend most of his time there, occasionally visiting ours with a new swag of songs. I’m pretty sure the lads in the shanty group from Port Fairy would say the same thing. Where on earth did he get his songs from? He never wrote one as far as I know. He used to say “why bother when there are so many great songs out there”? Why bother indeed if you’re tapped into this limitless resource of songs? </p>
<p>I don’t remember when I first saw Danny perform. I suppose it would have been at the Geelong Folk Club in the late 70s or early 80s bit I do remember out first practice session. He had been coming to the Tuesday night session at the Golden Age Hotel in Geelong where I was a regular at the time. It must have been in the mid 80s. I was devouring the Martin Carthy / Dave Swarbrick records at the time and learning the tunes off them which fitted into what Danny was doing. Somehow he plucked me out of the crowd of players there and asked me to come around to his house in Newtown, Geelong. I turned up with my fiddle and we started playing. I remember he asked me not to sit on the arms of the couch as “Gayle would do ‘er lolly” if she saw me sitting on them. We started doing gigs soon afterwards. </p>
<p>To say I learnt a lot from Danny doesn’t do his influence on me justice. To quote Isaac Newton “If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants." Danny is one of my giants. To put it another way, every time I play or perform carry a few people with me and Danny Spooner is probably top amongst them. He showed me how internal rhythms work. Not the written stuff, the organic rhythms that make a song or tune live. That all important swing. He was an absolute master at this. You’d have to be if so much of your performances are acapella or backed by the simple drones of a concertina. He would intuitively strip a song to its bare essence and then sing it as if that was the only way it could be sung. As a fiddle player I would love getting into those little patterns and twisting them and falling off the pitches and rhythms the way he did with his voice. As a guitar player I couldn’t do it at all. None of my approaches would work with Danny. Pete Daffy could and so, in the earlier days, could Gordon McIntyre. I think I could probably do it now; sadly I will never get the chance. </p>
<p>Danny also taught me the power of storytelling. I used to watch in awe as he spun the magical web with his stories about the people behind the songs and the historical context of the music, often bringing it home with reference to situations today. Having said that, I’m not sure how political Danny was. He obviously identified with his working class roots and loved the songs of people like Alastair Hewlett and Ewen MacColl. They formed a large part of his repertoire (the obscure ones of course) but in our conversations I thought he was more of a pragmatist than one would imagine of a well known folk singer. I suppose the historian in him was more interested in the general spread of human kind than a straight out folk singer would be. I take great pride that people are now calling me a story teller / singer songwriter. That’s Danny’s legacy right there. </p>
<p>One of the things I loved about Danny was his complete lack of interest in what my brother Richard calls “the Celebrity Cult”. Fame and reputation meant nothing to Danny. He liked you, or he didn’t. The same went for music. He would wax lyrical about some unknown player he had seen who really impressed him and be oblivious to the “big names” around the folk world, unless he liked their music. Similarly every gig was the same to Danny. I played with him to six people standing under a gum tree and to over a thousand people in concert halls. To him they were all the same and he treated each one the same way. This meant, for me, that I could find myself playing a song I’d never heard before, onstage, in front of hundreds of people. He was fearless and would launch into something he hadn’t done in years, confident he’d get through to the end. He never, ever apologized for getting something wrong or for slipping up. He’d just flash his cheeky grin (as if he’d meant to do it) and push on regardless. </p>
<p>You could tell when Danny was “on” and he usually was. I would watch his feet. Once they started to move you knew it was going to be a good show. Anthony O’Neill talks about the music coming up from the ground through your feet and I think Danny (consciously or otherwise) tapped into this. Those driving rhythms would start in his feet and come through his whole body, the concertina would sway and everything he had would be committed to the song. It was grand to watch, especially from beside him on the stage. </p>
<p>I’ve just realized I haven’t mentioned his voice. He was a bloody great singer with a huge range and immense power. He often refused to use a microphone, he just didn’t need it. I learnt to enjoy acoustic performances with him. I was brought up playing through PA gear so it was a big learning curve for me. Now I prefer to play acoustically if I possibly can. </p>
<p>So there you go. Danny was my friend, but, probably because of our age difference he was more of a mentor, maybe even a father figure to me. I respected him enormously and I will never forget the huge positive impact he has had on my life and music. Above all I’ll miss him. I’ll miss those phone calls out of the blue and the random coming together of gigs with him and lately Peter Daffy. I’ll miss those dancing feet and the little giggles when something either comes unstuck or comes brilliantly together. I’ll miss those Port Fairy breakfasts with him and Gayle. The last time I saw him was at his wonderful tribute concert at the Daylesford Town Hall. When we parted we agreed to get together soon to “have a play”. I think both of us knew it would never happen but we were both content to pretend it might. If there is an afterlife I hope he’s having the time of his afterlife catching up and having a play with some of his old mates, and I hope, when the time comes, I’ll be there too, with my fiddle… ‘aving a play…<br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/51185cd0a5fa775369d01d51fb72803334334f36/original/pat-danny-3.jpg?1491663690" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/4592943
2017-02-24T23:55:17+11:00
2022-05-27T15:57:26+10:00
From Gilgandra Down to Bathhurst Town
Every now and then you have one of those moments when your imaginary world becomes real, where fiction becomes fact. It's not always great. I can remember the first few times I discovered life behind the scenes of the music biz, when I realized my heroes were maybe not the perfect people I'd envisaged in my day dreams at school, but that's for another time.<br>My recent adventures in Tamworth and travels there and back with my good friend Gordon Tresider brought a lot of stories I'd read and wondered about over the years very much alive. I got to meet and play with some great people at Tamworth as well as helping out Scott Smoothy with our Maton duties. It was a blast and I'm definitely heading back next year, but the biggest thrill was getting to perform my song "The Coo-ee March' on the Maton Showcase on Australia Day. There were a bunch of terrific Maton artists on the bill and I was truly honoured to be able to perform alongside such an array of talent. I guess I knew I was in a different part of the world when i asked the crowd (about 800 strong) if they knew about the Coo-ee March. It was as if I'd gone to Edinburgh and asked the locals if they'd heard of one Robbie Burns. Yep, they knew about the Coo-ee March alright... So, Id better do a good job of this one.<br>Thankfully I did ok and in the words of the great Shane Howard "got away with it again" (not that Shane ever "get's away with it". He's a true pro).<br>So that was that. I'd done what I'd set out to do and survived without being run out of town and in fact, I think a few people might have even liked the song.<br>The next part of the adventure was the drive back to Melbourne (in one day if you don't mind, which is a bit of a push). On the way back we passed through Gilgandra, home of the Coo-ee March and that's where the first of my imaginary world meets reality experiences happened. Once we parked the car and headed down the street I swear I could feel the boy's legacy. The town oozes its history, you can fell it coming up through the scorching pavement (did I mention it was hot?).<br>We stopped at the statue erected in honour of the Coo-ee Marchers and I posed for the obligatory photograph. I kind of like the fact you can see an IGA over my left shoulder. The town is like that. you get the feeling it stands on its own two feet.<br>We then drove on a bit to the Coo-ee March display in the Information Centre. It was brilliant! Such a story and presented really well. It was fascinating to read the fortunes of the original Coo-ees. A few of them died of illnesses before they got to the front and many more did not survive the war. Very few made it to old age. <br>As I was absorbing their stories the waste and futility of it all really struck home. What was the point? Why the sacrifice? We all know what happened over the war years and the echoes of trauma that still ring today. So what did the boys achieve? Why did they go and what of those who came back?<br>As we were leaving I picked up a book as a memento and told the lovely lady behind the counter that I'd written a song about the march and sung it at a concert at Tamworth the previous day. It may have been a slow day and she might just have wanted a chat but she was genuinely interested and took down my details to pass on to the other locals who has organised the 100th anniversary reenactment march that took place late in 2015. And then she said the words that made it all fall into place for me. "It's been wonderful for the town" she said. "Oh yes, it's done great things for us". And there it was. The spur of the moment decision of those men and boys one hundred years ago to grab their packs and join the march has given this small country town an identity, a source of tourism income and a cause to celebrate. And isn't that worth a holler.. Coo-ee!<p> </p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/1f51ab9b7b9715e65be32459072bdff9d48f86f3/medium/gilgandra.jpg?1487246285" class="size_m justify_left border_" /> <iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="53cRMKfHTuc" data-video-thumb-url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/53cRMKfHTuc/0.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/53cRMKfHTuc?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="200" width="320" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe><br>
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/4558611
2017-01-21T23:07:06+11:00
2023-12-11T03:59:21+11:00
After The Democracy Sausage Has Gone Down...
This has not been a good week in our town and a pretty tough year everywhere so I thought I'd share one of my highlights from last year to maybe sooth the savage breast a little.<br>July last year saw us back to the polls to decide who would lead us for the next three years (or six months, or 12 months, depending on the internal machinations of party politics) so we took the short walk to the Holy Name Primary School hall to cast our votes. On the way we bumped into neighbors, friends and teachers from the school. Needless to say we bought a sausage from the school fundraiser stall as well as some weak tea and a scone or two. Having scoffed the sausage and scone and washed them down with tea I took my place in the queue and politely took every one of the how to vote cards on offer. I always do this. Mainly because I spent much of my childhood (along with my siblings) standing outside polling booths in hail, rain or shine, handing out cards for whatever hopelessly unpopular cause my Dad was pushing at the time. Dad was a political being all his life, mostly on the outer but did has his moment in the sun later in his life (but that's another story...).<br>There was always and election of some sort brewing at our place when we were kids and the old hand made silk screen poster press was never idle. I can still remember having a bath in our old bathroom at North Carlton some time in the late 60s. The bathroom was on the back of the house and the walls were lined with silver paper insulation and dozens of "Vote 1 Sam Benson for Batman" posters in deep blue ink. <br>So yes, I can identify with all those brave souls handing out papers and cards at polling booths.<br>Anyway, what struck me was the strong community spirit at the booth and the general feeling of good will, regardless of politics. It made me realize that really we're all together in this, regardless of our differences and despite what ever categories the media and marketing organisations may try to lump us in.<br>So I wrote a song about it..<br>First it started as a silly "democracy sausage" type of song, then became a bit preachy. In the end I opted for a possible romance between the shy daughter of a conservative shopkeeper and a young, red ALP T-shirt wearing intellectual progressive handing out papers at a local polling booth.Sort of Romeo & Juliet but with cups of tea and tennis courts... You get the idea.<br>Then, I was lucky enough to be asked to perform at the Cluney Tunes festival in Clunes, Victoria in late September last year. It was an awesome festival and I hope to go back and do it again. We had a small session on the Friday night with, amongst others, Rachael Johnston (an incredible cello player) and Hugh Gordon (equally amazing on violin). I trotted out my Election Day song and they played with me. It sounded fantastic and Andrew Pattison (who was running the session) suggested I should ask them to play it with me at my concert spot at The Bluestone at Wesley the next day. So I did. It was completely unrehearsed but sounded great and it was an honour for me to have such gifted musicians join me on stage to play this song.<br>Even better, I had Pete Daffy hook up my recorder to the desk and I got the whole show live. Pete got such a good sound (through one mic I might add) that it didn't take much to extract a few good versions from the recordings, especially this one, Election Day.<br>So here it is, live form Clunes, Patrick Evans with Rachael Johnston on Cello and Hugh Gordon on violin performing "Election Day".<br>I hope you enjoy it.<br>PS: I'll be at Tamworth doing a couple of songs at the Maton Showcase on January 26 if anyone's around. Come up and say g'day.<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/ca64beabff90110fff3ec7e298a0df1339b71d0e/original/wesley-hall-clunes.jpg?1485001527" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
4:01
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/4327032
2016-08-16T23:06:13+10:00
2022-02-10T05:09:49+11:00
Writers Block @ The Lomond
I'm really looking forward to this Thursday's show at the Lomond. I'll be sharing the stage with five other terrific songwriters, Bec Goring, Frank Jones, David Hyams, Anna Cordell and Mandy Connell. The theme for this month is "money" (which is timely as I don't have any) and the idea is that each of us perform three songs relating to the theme. Like a dutiful little song writer I looked at my current batch and figured that I had three songs that would fit the bill (kind of) but wouldn't it be hip and cool to write one. So I started, and waited, and waited, and waited....... still waited, and then gave up. A true case of writer's block if ever there was one. So I went back to the bushranger ballad I've been working on for the last 25 years and wrote another 38 verses, none of which will see the light of day should this song ever actually escape and be sung somewhere, when suddenly, I thought I'd better do the banking, logged on to my account and there it was... the song I'd been looking for.<br>I can't tell you what it is except to say I'm pretty happy with it and it's called "A Scented Lemon".<br>You'll have to come along on Thursday night (kicks off at 8.00pm and it's free folks!) to hear it along with the other two songs I reckon will pass muster. If they don't bring along some lemons and throw them at me... Which reminds me of my dear departed friend Neil Nicholas who had vegies thrown at him while singing a parody of the Ryebuck Shearer called "The Veggie Eater" at the Bush Inn down in Geelong in the very early 80s (or was it late 70s?). Apparently his Maton CW80 was destroyed by a well aimed carrot but that's another story....<br>See you there<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/6bafc17e28f933706ffdd9b36720751ab879e4d4/original/writers-block-18.jpg?1471352677" class="size_l justify_center border_" />
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/4290188
2016-07-22T23:19:22+10:00
2022-03-10T18:52:22+11:00
Back In The Saddle Again!
Well, what a crazy few months it's been! I've done a few shows here and there with my good friend Suzette Herft and my old mate Danny Spooner (which have been great) but mostly it's been about renovating, painting and moving back into our home after 10 months or so living with Ann's parents (amazingly generous people and my mother in law is a sensational cook as my waist line will attest). But, we're back now and I have a music room and a shed so no excuses any more. As my father used to say "Patrick, it's time to set to".<br>So, a few things coming up but the one I'm looking forward to most is tomorrow night (July 23) at The Skylark Room in Upwey. A great venue and a ripper of an idea by the Writers' Patch. This is the first of a regular event where three songwriters perform together and talk about their craft, inspirations and anything else related to their songwriting. It's bound to be an interesting night. Doors open @ 6.30 so get in early if you can. It'll be a lovely way to spend a winter's night. Tickets are $10 on the door.<br>Hope to see you there....<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/98f10b2f2b93030bf58b3e11db9b91b79dea1232/original/writers-patch.jpg?1469193502" class="size_l justify_center border_" />
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/4081574
2016-03-10T22:12:37+11:00
2022-05-02T17:47:20+10:00
Off To Port Fairy Again!
Man, does it come around fast! Once again I'm packing the bags to head down to Port Fairy for the 40th Port Fairy Folk Festival. I don't like to dwell too much on the fact that this is something like my 35th or so (missed a couple in the 80's if my memory serves, and maybe one or two in the last twenty years through circumstances beyond my control ). It makes me start to feel a tad on the old side.<br>Speaking of which it's been downright depressing with the number of brilliant musicians and performers shuffling off this mortal coil in recent times. It just goes to show you have to make hay while the sun shines. They did and Vale to them all.....<br>It's been a mad summer full of renovation and sundry other activities, none of which have much to do with music but the end is in sight and I'm really looking forward to getting back into some gigs and recording soon. I do have a few shows coming up including a couple of solo gigs , some duo shows with Suzette Herft ,a St Pat's gig with Ewen Baker and a bush dance with Emma Rodda and Gordon Tresider. I'm really looking forward to getting back in the saddle. It's been far too long and there's nothing better than making music with good friends. Check out the upcoming shows page for details.<br>So, hope to catch up with old friends at Port Fairy and maybe sink a Guinness or three.<br>And, congratulations to Marcia Howard on being Port Fairy's Artist Of The Year for 2016! <br>Here's a pic of Marcia, Gary Dalton and myself around 1989.<br>Cheers<br>Patrick<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/001b2aa5978435f7488ad08c4e3297142956ece7/original/marcia-gary-2.jpg?0" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br>
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3967728
2015-12-26T17:47:24+11:00
2022-05-02T16:27:18+10:00
A Christmas Tale - And a Sneak Preview
I can't say for sure that all of this happened, or that it all happened on he same day, or even the same year. It's funny how our memories tend to cluster into periods or even decades and I'm sure that we end up confusing things that we probably would have done with things we actually did do, not to mention the urban myths that arise in families when some memories become shared or even misappropriated. I'm still arguing with Richard over which of us lived in the real "House of Angles" although I am prepared to concede it sounds like his turn of phrase and us songwriters are notorious thieves when it comes to these things. Anyway, let's take a trip back to December 25, 1974 (this'll do as the date most likely to fit the bill).<br>The sun shone bright that Christmas morning and the Evans children (all five of us) were busy playing with our exciting new gifts provided by loving grandparents and ignoring the practical gifts provided by our practical parents. There were the usual shrieks of anger from my younger siblings as I tried to show them "how to do it properly" or my sister Jackie attempted to organize us into some kind of game of which she was the boss. Then, as the sun rose in the east the ominous sounds of Dad's voice echoed through the house. "Come on children, it's time to get ready for Church". <br>I was roped into this as at that time I was the only "server' or alter boy at St James Drysdale so I had no choice. Off I went to find my Sunday clothes from the bedroom. It didn't much matter what they were as they would be covered by my Cassock and Surplus (funny how I can still remember the names of those ridiculous garments) however I did need to look reasonable after church so muddy shoes and pants were not appropriate. <br>My brothers and sisters, on the other hand, had no official duties and hated church with an intensity that I was reminded of years later when taking my dog to the vet. As the word "church" reverberated off the large plate glass windows of the sun room the back door slammed shut as the last sibling escaped out into the wide world in a desperate attempt to avoid the hour of stultifying boredom they knew awaited them. Some climbed up the pine trees that lined the back yard. Others, a little older and more courageous, made it down the dirt track at the back of the yard that led to the beach, sliding down the coverage of pine needles and rabbit droppings on the bottoms of their trousers looking for a hole in the box thorn bushes they could escape into and hide.<br>It was all to no avail. One by one my mother found them and hauled them up into the Combi Van where Dad and I were sitting, engine idling, waiting to start the two mile journey to St James' Anglican Church, Drysdale. It must have been a rare sight, the Evans clan arriving at church with Dad dressed in his suit, Mum in her dress but still slightly puffed after chasing her offspring up and down the steep slopes of Clifton Springs and four little kids, still covered in sticks, spider's webs and with the odd open wound inflicted by a stray box thorn. I went around to the vestry door and went in to greet Father Donnelly, a small red faced man who had partially retired but was still conducting services in this parish while the search for a suitable incumbent continued. I put on my serving garments and got on with the job of kneeling and day dreaming while the service got underway. <br>There is nothing quite like the drone of a half engaged clergyman reciting the text from the King James Bible and the Book of Common Prayer. The only thing quite as boring was the reciting of Latin declensions and conjugations I was to endure over the next couple of years at Geelong High School. It is fair to say that I learnt absolutely nothing from either of these experiences except for the ability to switch off and let my mind go where it will, still a useful technique in airport lounges and doctor's waiting rooms. <br>As the service came to a close and the last quaky notes echoed from the mouse eaten circuits of the old church Hammond organ our spirits began to rise. This was the best (or least worst) thing about church. The feeling of release as we came out of the old church building and into the sunlight, blinking as our eyes adjusted to the light and our souls adjusted to the new found sense of freedom, was euphoric. There is a particular sense of community and joy among local parishioners as they mill about the front of the church after a service, especially if the turn up has been good (which usually means Christmas and Easter). I remember one of my Dad's old mates contrasting this to the sneaking out, faces hidden, of the audience leaving an adult cinema. I never really did get this one.....<br>Dad was particularly enthusiastic with his season's greetings this Christmas, partly, no doubt, due to his relief at having managed to get his family there and through the service relatively unscathed. It was a beautiful morning, God was in his heaven and Christmas lunch on the table. Having shaken hands, kissed cheeks and exchanged appropriate salutations he climbed back into the van where the rest of us were already seated and buckled up, anxious to get back home and get on with the real Christmas, meaning a trip to the grandparents, more presents and lashings of ham and gravy. The engine started up, coughed and spluttered into life and Dad swung the van back ready to head through the church gates and back home. CRUNCH!!!!! The sound of breaking glass and crunching metal brought us back to the here and now. Dad had reversed straight into a Hillman that had been parked by a little old lady in her hurry to get into the service on time.<br>"Bloody Hell!" Dad shouted. "What stupid idiot left that there?" Actually the language was a bit more colourful that that. Dad could swear like a trooper when he wanted to but for the sake of politeness we'll leave it at that. <br>I don't remember the aftermath of this event but I would imagine he had a fairly frosty Christmas day after the incident and as I recall there was no further compulsory church going from then on. I sang with Dad in the choir at St James for a few years later on which I really enjoyed and learnt a lot of my musical heritage during those years. "Alleluia Moves Me Still" is a song about those times. I've posted a demo version of it here. So, Happy Christmas and I hope you have a wonderful New Year.<br>See you soon.<br>Patrick
4:10
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3952121
2015-12-06T20:51:26+11:00
2022-08-11T01:01:51+10:00
When The Beatles Came To Visit Clifton Springs....
Some time in the mid to late 70's I had the strangest dream. For some reason The Beatles (yes, John, Paul, George and Ringo) came to visit my parents at our rambling old house in Clifton Springs. It didn't matter that they'd been disbanded for seven years, or that my parents didn't have that much of an idea as to who they were, let alone move in their circles. It didn't matter that at that time Clifton springs might not have been the arse end of the world (though you could have definitely seen it from there), no, for whatever reason in my teenage brain they rolled up and were sitting on the old home made couch in the study (most presentable room in the house). I guess it wasn't so strange. My Dad had all manner of well known political figures drop in from time to time and I well remember sitting around the edges of these long conversations, listening late into the night to stories of political intrigue and the goings on behind the events we heard on the news and read in the papers. To this day I never believe half of what I hear in the media. A valuable lesson in life I believe, always look for the hidden agenda.<br>Anyhow, I digress. I can't remember what was discussed in this dream and I can't imagine (pardon the pun) my Dad and John Lennon agreeing on anything much, except maybe for being original thinkers, but I can still see them vividly, sitting in a row in their White Album clothes sipping a polite cup of tea.<br>The Beatles were far and away my main musical influence and inspiration. Quite why I still haven't been able to work out. I was four when they released Sergeant Pepper and they were all over by the time I was eight. I dimly remember singing Yellow Submarine in primary school and seem to recall "She Loves You Yeah, Yeah Yeah" but in our house we listened to 3LO or 3AR and had no television so I grew up listening to Sentimental Journey and The Goon Show, oblivious to the frantic youth culture that was happening all around me (apparently). I made myself a crystal set radio in Grade 4 and that was my main connection to the media until Dad bought us an orange transistor radio in about 1975. Then I discovered 3XY and the top 40 and all that crazy stuff. I loved it at first (The Sweet were my heroes) but was introduced to the Beatles by Max Staines, a lovely English chap I worked for during the school holidays, laying tiles. Max played me an album or two, I bought the Rock and Roll album (a compilation put out in 76ish) and I was hooked. When Dad bought me my first guitar (a Goldtone from Kerly's Auction Rooms) I borrowed a Beatles song book from Rob Doole and played till my fingers bled, night after night. When I wasn't practicing I was at the record player, lights switched off, playing the albums all the way through, listening to every little nuance and imagining myself as part of the band. <br>As for the music of the time, I was aware of it but I really wasn't interested. The Beatles led me to the Stones then to Muddy Waters. to Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee, to Pete Seeger to the English folk singers and on to Irish music and jazz. In short, they were my window to the musical world.<br>Cut to 2015 and here I am driving around Melbourne with my nine year old daughter Sofia begging me to play The Love album again. She told me recently that she liked the Beatles much more the "pop music" and that it was partly my fault. I really haven't tried to influence her. I think it's just that she's becoming a fair musician and her ears are attracted to the same sound and harmonies that mine were all those years ago. I think she loves the stories and the characters in the songs as well. When she was quite young she was absolutely fascinated by the girl in "She's Leaving Home" and wanted to know more about what happened. <br>I guess the reason I have spent most of my working life in the guitar business can be directly attributed to them. My fascination with song writing definitely can. I think I still consider John and Paul as the most brilliant writers in modern music (if you can call fifty year old music modern).<br>I could go on but many have said it better. Many of my friends have similar stories of how the boys from Liverpool changed their lives forever. What a brilliant legacy!
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3898399
2015-10-15T23:53:15+11:00
2021-08-16T20:39:27+10:00
News Flash!
Hi All, <br>Just to keep you in the loop. Things have been a little quiet here at "Folk Bloke Central" but a few events are coming up so please have a look at my shows page to see if anything is happening near you. I have a bit of a special event this Saturday at Marysville. The wonderful instrument maker Chris Ffinch has organised and event featuring Maton's brilliant Custom Shop luthier Andy Allen this Saturday at the Little Fishes Gallery in Marysville at about 2.00pm. I am honoured to cap off Andy's presentation with a rendition of the song "Black Saturday" written by myseld and my brother Richard. What makes it really special is that I will be playing it on a guitar made from blackwood rescued from my father's property at Marysville after the fires. To make it even more special the guitar was built by Andy and we presented it to Chris on his retirement from Maton guitars after more years than I care to mention. Chris is also a Marysville resident and lost his house in the fires as well.<br>So there you go. Come along if you get the chance.<br>I will also be doing a concert with my good friend and musical collaborator Suzette Herft this Sunday at St Catherine of Sienna Church, Melton West at 4pm.<br>Next Saturday night sees meself, Emma Rodda and Rob Hornbuckle and maybe one or two others playing as the Wrenboys for a half hour set as part of a fundraiser for motor nuerone disease along with a whole bunch of fantastic Parry bands from the glory days of the 90's and early 2000's. It's at the Celtic club and bound to be a great night. We'll be on about 9.45pm. <br>Later in the month I'll be performing "Farewell Angelina" with Suzette Herft at the Maldon Folk Festival (I'll also be there representing Maton as we are proud sponsors of the "Roddy Read" songwriting competition) and doing a set of original songs with Suzette at Bar 303 as part of the Darebin Songwriter's Guild contribution to The Darebin Music Feast.<br>Check out the shows page for more details on any of these shows.
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3862439
2015-09-19T13:25:36+10:00
2015-09-22T19:21:21+10:00
Of Bread, Circuses, Small Towns and the Coo-ee March
i happened to sit down at the breakfast table this morning and glance through the Herald Sun (having found my glasses, I can only make out the headlines these days). What probably struck me most was the front page headline screaming out about an exclusive interview with the woman involved in the affair with Wayne Carey that caused so much drama down at North Melbourne Footy Club over 10 years ago. Somewhere about page 10 was some reports about the refugee crisis in Europe and somewhere in the middle of the paper a short report on a massive Tsunami and earthquake that hit Chile and Santiago in the last day or so.<br>My first reaction was to condemn the Murdoch rag for the rubbish that it is but thinking further I think this speaks more to who we are than we would like to admit. My Dad used to say that there was nothing new under the sun and one could learn all one needed to know about the world today by studying history and the bible. I'm beginning to think he was right (at least with the history bit anyway). <br>The Roman poet Juvenal decried the decline of Roman heroism and accused the Roman population of selling their freedom for "bread and circuses". It's not hard to see the same tendencies with our own society as we bang on about celebrity cooks and sporting heroes rather than taking on the tough questions of our time. And it's understandable too, really, how much can we really do about the endless tales of agony and horror coming from every corner of the world? It's all too much.<br>So, we scurry for our comfort zones and one of the places we feel most comfortable is in our village...<br>I was fortunate enough to grow up in a few different places so I got to see the big city as a youngster but also grow up in, and understand, life in a small country town. After an early childhood in the cultural melting pot that was North Carlton we moved to Torquay on the surf coast and then to Drysdale on the Bellerine Peninsula. I spent grade 4 at Torquay and grade 5 onwards at Drysdale. Drysdale was a small town in those days, a population of about 1000 and everybody knew everybody's business. It didn't take me long to develop the country town wave where you wave at every car that passes by without even looking because you'll know the occupants and they'll give you a hard time nest time you see them at Church or at the football if you ignored them. <br>I thrived in the small town. Suddenly I wasn't one of the anonymous masses. People knew who I was and had a role for me, either in a sports club or the church choir or in the Scouts. I was still a bit of of an outsider (being the new kid in town) but I was "the outsider", that was my role along with my brothers and sisters. My youngest sister Liz was so young she was never an outsider. She was what they call "old Drysdale". Eventually I had to flee life in the small town. There wasn't much opportunity for a wanna be singer songwriter / guitar maker in a town where the main money maker was potatoes (these days it seems to be tourism and boutique wines) so I had to go to the next size up, Geelong, and eventually to Melbourne.<br>But I still identify with life in a small town which is why I was so struck by the story of the Coo-ee March of 1915. Captain Bill Hitchen and his brother R.G.Hitchen set out from Gilgandra in October 1915 on a march that became known as the Coo-ee March. They marched from small town to small town eventually finishing up in Martin Place, Sydney where they joined up and headed off to the great unknown. Of course many of them never came back and I wonder had they known what they were heading into, how many of them would have gone. I suspect most to be honest. There was a strong sense of civic duty and pride of King, country and empire that is hard to understand today. I still remember leaning over the boundary fence watching Drysdale footy team vs Portarlington and seeing out local motor mechanic running down the steps onto the ground all shiny with rubbing oil and ready to give the Port boys a bit of biffo. This is what it would have felt like watching those young boys falling in with Captain Bill as the Coo-ee March came through and heading off to give the Hun or the Turks a whack.<br>So, how do I tie all this together? Well, the front page of the Herald Sun is pretty much like the gossip that spread around Drysdale like wildfire when one of the local lads bogged his Dad's car in the bunker of the local golf course while doing burn outs (unbeknownst to his Pa) and the Coo-ee March reflects the pride and commitment of small town people (and maybe the mistaken belief that putting in will make a difference, even on a global scale). <br>Lastly, I wrote a song about the Coo-ee March and I was rapt to hear it played by Macca on Australia All Over last weekend.<br>I thought I'd post it here so you can hear it again if you missed it on Macca.<br>Cheers<br>Patrick
4:03
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3846073
2015-09-08T22:40:05+10:00
2021-08-16T20:39:58+10:00
Midweek Valentino
Well what a month this has been! Apart from a sensational show with Suzette Herft and Pete Fidler at the Spotted Mallard last week (where we launched not one, but two CD's) it's been a crazy time of moving things around and generally trying to keep it all together. Hence.... no blogs. Things are a bit quiet on the gigs front too for the next little while so it's time to do get started on my version of the great Australian novel, in other words, my first solo album.<br>So, to get you up to date (as if anyone's really interested but I've noticed that successful people seem to live a life of never ending newsworthy events so I'm going to try and pretend I'm the same) me, Ann and our daughter Sofia (of "You're too fat to fly" fame) are currently living with Ann's parents in Coburg while our house is undergoing major surgery (renovation I believe it's called) and the last month has been pretty well taken up with all of that. Needless to say practicing is a bit of an issue when living in somebody else's place but I've borrowed my friend Ian Young's "silent" Yamaha guitar which is a real "boon" (as my Granny used to say). Now I can play as long and as loud as I like and maintain domestic harmony. Hooray!!! <br>I've also been busy in the studio with Gordon hammering away at some pre-production versions of songs for the forthcoming album (which has a working title of "Now That's A City Lemon For Sure!" but I'm open to suggestions on this) and I thought I'd give you a little sneak preview of what will, eventually, turn into a pretty decent little song. This is "Midweek Valentino" which is the song that won me the Peninsula Folk Club Songwriting Competition. It has it's origins on a number of places and times but I think anyone who has either played at or been a punter at many of the midweek venues around Melbourne will recognize the characters in the song. You might even see yourself in there somewhere, I know I'm in there a bit. One of my favourite literary moments is in "The French Lieutenant's Woman" in which the author, John Fowles, writes himself into the novel as a character in a train wondering what to do next with the protagonist. This is what I love about writing. There really are no rules and you can go wherever you want to and be whoever you like. So, in "Midweek Valentino" there I am on a bar stool watching the scene unfold. Come join me and we'll have a drink for Valentino........<br>
5:15
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3798719
2015-08-01T17:00:20+10:00
2021-08-22T18:55:08+10:00
Desert Island Discs - What's Yours?
A few years ago I was having dinner with my colleague and friend Rob Marsh (a true gentleman and a fine singer songwriter to boot, also a bottomless source of trivial information about just about anything) and he asked mt the "desert island disc" question. "If you had to settle for just one record for the rest of your life what would it be?" I thought for a bit and then it just popped out "Penguin Eggs by Nick Jones". I probably thought I was being clever and obscure but I should have known better. Not only did Rob have 'Penguin Eggs' but he had everything else by Nick Jones as well..... Of course he did, Rob's like that! So then I had to justify my call, why 'Penguin Eggs' and not 'Sergeant Pepper' or 'Dark Side Of The Moon' or something better known and more successful?<br>I vaguely remember hearing of Nick Jones and the dreadful car accident that ended his career in 1982. I was just a bit young to really have appreciated him at the time (I was 19 and still only scratching the surface of the world of folk music) and for whatever reason had not heard his music. I finally caught the Nick Jones bug when Janette Geri lent me a copy of 'Penguin Eggs" in the mid 90's. It was a revelation! Not because I had never heard anything like it before, but because it was like everything I'd heard before but brought to perfection in one album. It was all there. In my mind Nick was (and still is) the greatest of the English folk guitar players. There are elements of Martin Carthy, Davey Graham, Bert Jansch, Richard Thompson and the rest in Nick's playing but somehow it all comes together in a perfect package with Nick. This album somehow towers over his previous recordings as well. You can hear snippets of what's to come in the older albums but sometimes the groove isn't quite there or the arrangement is a bit over fussy or the song choices don't quite work. Whatever it is it sounds like the older works are stepping stones towards the final work in 'Penguin Eggs'. And so far we're just talking about the guitar playing, then there's his voice!<br>For me Nick is simply the best male folk singer in the English tradition full stop. He had a pure tone and tremendous control but used his voice in an understated way, never allowing the voice to come between the story and the listener. His timing and phrasing is wonderful, both vocally and on guitar (he also played fiddle, button accordion and recorders on the album I believe). <br>The songs are wonderful. On the face of it mostly standard fare of the folk singer of the time but they're all gems in their own way and all given Nick's special treatment. I imagine he has a really dry sense of humour. How else could you sing "Give corn unto my horse mother, meat to my man John" and get away with it?<br>There is something impenetrable about Nick Jones. Having listened to this album thousands of times I'm none the wiser about the man. This is probably partly due to his accident and the fact that he has pretty much been out of view until very recently, but also due to his style. He seems to be content to let the music live it's own life with him almost as a presenter who's job it is to tell the tale with little or no reference to himself. Maybe it's a leap to far but I think of him as the Shakespeare of English folk music with 'Penguin Eggs' as his Hamlet (or should that be omelette???).....<br>Finally, and this has more to do with who I am than anything else, the style of the record is right up my street. For me the ultimate musical experience is in a small venue where the volume is just a touch above acoustic level and the audience are intent on listening to every facet of the performance. Frankly stadium shows leave me cold and I often find myself well and truly ready to leave about half way through a show. I love the intimacy of a small folk club where the interaction between performer and audience is immediate and personal. And... you can see exactly how the musician goes about his craft.<br>'Penguin Eggs' is that sort of album.<br>So, that's my Desert Island Disc. What's yours?<br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/6e5af59099167a146d1245673f9af31f322687c1/medium/penguin-eggs.jpg?1438411424" class="size_m justify_center border_" />
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3791449
2015-07-26T20:16:14+10:00
2022-09-04T08:51:11+10:00
Live Songwriting Part 5 - Have you seen my Grandfather's violin?
Okay, I admit it. To date this particular social experiment has been a little disappointing, well total rubbish really.<br>But I reckon I'm on to something this time!<br>I was out walking this morning and came up with the opening verse below. It's a true story. Some time in the late 80's I sold the violin I had inherited from my Grandfather to pay some bills or the rent or something. I've regretted it ever since; not because it was particularly brilliant (it was a German factory copy of a Stainer violin with a fairly hard tone) but because of what it represented. I sold it through Soundware Music in Geelong where I was working. I remember the lady who bought it really appreciated its history and swore she would look after it. I suspect there were quite a few of these violins around after the First World War when my Grandfather bought it so identifying at again would be almost impossible, but..... The case was quite distinctive as I stick a sticker on the lid which showed the Just Jeans ad from the late 70's featuring a young woman's naked bottom. Very rock'n'roll I thought at the time..... So, if anyone knows the whereabouts of this old Stainer copy violin with the tasteless sticker on the case I would love to know. I'd gladly buy it back!<br>Back to the song. I don't think this one will take long to finish. When you get a really good opening line the rest of the song tends to write itself. It's really just a matter of uncovering the story and then applying the usual song writing techniques to get it into shape. It's always easier when the story is real too. I guess this was the problem with the song about the guy and his wall (even he's given up on it I notice; It must be too cold to be out working on it). I had no idea about his story and he wasn't telling either. I'll post the finished song along with the lyrics once it's completed.<br>In the meantime there are a few gigs to talk about. I'll be back at the Peninsula Folk Club next Sunday (August 2) from 5.30pm doing a workshop on how to re-string your instrument and look after it. A little later on that evening as be performing a few brand new songs as one of the warm up acts for the main guest artists 'Interlude' who I am really looking forward to seeing.<br>Saturday August 8 sees Suzette Herft and myself at The Grande Cabaret Club in Hepburn Springs where we will be performing our shoe 'Farewell Angelina", a tribute to Joan Baez and Bob Dylan when they were the king and queen of the folk revival in the early 60's. The show starts at 1.00pm<br>Now for the big one! Suzette and I will be launching the CD of "Farewell Angelina" as well as Suzette's solo CD "Roses" at The Spotted Mallard on Thursday, August 27. The show starts at 8.00pm with "Angelina" and we'll be joined by the amazing Pete Fidler for the launch of "Roses" Details for this one on my shows page.<br>So, here is the opening verse of my new song and a picture of a Stainer violin in case you need help identifying one.<br>Cheers<br>Patrick<br><br>I often wonder what became of Grandpa's violin,<br>I sold it many years ago, <br>When things were slow,<br>But even so,<br>I should have found a better way,<br>To bring some money in,<br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/22387446fa1e11e528a71819f7e98f6215a647e6/original/braun-violin-mark.jpg?1437905744" class="size_l justify_center border_" />
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3765426
2015-07-05T00:33:10+10:00
2017-01-16T14:35:43+11:00
Look What I Found! A Song By William F Barrow
So here I am, right in the middle of a terrible song writing drought.<br>I've got bits and pieces of half started songs, ideas scribbled in note books, chord progressions, melodies, grooves..... All ready to go and absolutely nothing to write about. And that's the problem really. Sometimes it just feels like you're disconnected from the essence of songs, from the emotional need to get the lyrics down, no matter what ridiculous time of night it is or what else needs to be done. When I'm in this state I'll happily tackle all sorts of menial tasks, anything to avoid the horror of sitting looking at an empty page, wondering how on earth I ever wrote anything decent at all! A few time s recently I've actually thought of myself as an artist. Huh.....<br>An actual artist would find a way through this phase. He'd lock himself in a garret with only hard bread, stale cheese and some insipid vinegar posing as wine and refuse to come out until he'd created the statue of David or painted the Mona Lisa or written Macbeth or War and Peace. He would not sit on the couch spilling potato chip crumbs down his jumper while watching endless re-runs of Midsummer Murders and strumming mindlessly on a ukulele......<br>But I digress.<br>In an effort to try and get something together for the next songwriters workshop (and avoid showing up with a song written fifteen years ago and pretending it's actually current) I decided to have another look through the folder containing the poems of my great uncle William F Barrow (here after referred to as Uncle Bill). And guess what I found? A song! Yes a fully written song, and....it has a good, old fashioned preamble, just like I tried to do with 'Too Fat To Fly'.<br>This was written at the end of WW2 whilst he was still stationed at Balikpapan and waiting to be sent home to Australia. It's full of the dreadful family gags and puns I've become so fond of, and has some clever internal rhymes. One is an absolute howler.... See if you can pick it. <br>I've no idea of the tune but I imagine it as a mess room sing along with a jangly out of tune piano. <br>So here it is. Probably the first time anyone has seen it since 1945.....<br><br><strong>In A Balikpapan Garden – William F Barrow</strong><br> <br>Preamble:<br> <br>In this headquarters unit<br>There is, as you should know<br>A lyre with none to tune it,<br>A trumpet, none to blow;<br>So should you be so gracious<br>To bend a willing ear,<br>I’ll sing a song herbaceous<br>That fits the climate here:<br> <br>First Verse:<br> <br>The war was quickly finished<br>On Balkpapan front,<br>But, strong and undiminished,<div>We planned another stunt;<br>It took a back-to nature lean<br>We planned to dig a garden<br>And when we dig we dig....I mean<br>There’s no I-beg-your-pardon.<br> <br>First Chorus<br> <br>So it’s out, subalterns, turn the sod,<br>And load up the trailer with sand,<br>There is much to be done till the levels are run,<br>For a garden of gardens is planned.<br> <br>Next Verse<br> <br>The work of ‘G’ and ‘I’ relaxed<br>And also ‘A’ and ‘Q’,<br>Which left the office overtaxed<br>With lack of work to do;<br>Now boredom makes the strongest crack,<br>And so at half past four<br>They found that though they loved the back<br>They loved the garden more.<br> <br>Second Chorus<br> <br>So it’s out captains, turn the clod,<br>And load up the trailer with grass;<br>I am ruthlessly drawn by a sizable lawn –<br>If the jolly thing comes to pass.<br> <br>Next Verse<br> <br>But office work of short extent<br>Increased the working hours;<br>From three o’clock the time was spent<br>Amongst the birds and flowers.<br>They burrowed where the path was laid<br>With outstretched necks and rubbery,<br>To keep the drains to proper grade<br>Beneath pre-planted shrubbery.<br> <br>Third Chorus<br> <br>So it’s out majors, bridge the drains,</div>
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<br>And fill the trailers with stones;<br>We are wise to the lurk of the pressure of work<br>And a garden’s no place for drones.<br> <br>Last Verse<br> <br>As time goes on and peace gets real,<br>With news of home releases,<br>The lawn, with extra spurts of zeal,<br>Takes shape in bits and pieces;<br>But here the problem rears its head:<br>Before we really know it,<br>We’ll have instead a grassy spread<br>With no one here to mow it!<br> <br>All-in Chorus<br> <br>So it’s subalterns, captains, majors all,<br>Dont fear the aftermath;<br>I will finally get pleasure by leading at leisure<br>Up the garden path.<br> <br>Balikpapan 1945<br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/51bb9a568b5fc91f97c97a6b16d2f4ca79bf218a/large/in-a-balikpapan-garden.jpg?1436020289" class="size_l justify_left border_" />
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Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3757554
2015-06-28T15:50:21+10:00
2015-06-28T16:02:36+10:00
What Makes A Great Song? The Folk Bloke's Deadly 60 Revealed!
My daughter Sofia absolutely loves a show on TV called "The Deadly 60" in which the presenter gets to roam the planet searching for deadly animals and rating them out of 10 in different categories to establish if they are in the world's top 60 deadly animals. It's a pretty loose rating system and as far as I can tell there are at least 100 in the top 60 so far but that's cool. It's a fun idea and he gets to go all over the world prodding these creatures with sticks so why stop at 60?<br>I thought I'd do the same with songs except instead of roaming the world I'm doing it in Melbourne with the heater on and a nice hot cup of tea on my desk....<br>So what does make a great song? <br>Well, to be honest I have absolutely no idea, and neither (I suspect) does anybody else....<br>But last Sunday as I was performing at the Bay Hotel in Mornington it occurred to me that we know a great song when we come across one.<br>We launched into "Fields of Athenry" (written by Pete St. John in the 1970's), a must for any band purporting to have any right to perform in an Irish bar, and I realized that this song really is a great song. The boys lined up at the bar turned as one and launched into the song with gusto and determination (and a fair bit of tunefulness if the truth be told) and they knew it word for word and note for note. I remember thinking "man, if I could ever write a song like this my work here would be done...".<br>I learnt this song by osmosis. As far as I know I don't have a recording of it anywhere and I absorbed the words from the singing of Eamon Regan when I played with him in Pure Genius and The Wrenboys. I still sing his version ("for you <em>robbed </em>Trevalyan's corn" and "I rebelled, they <em>ran</em> me down" ) to this day. This is the folk tradition at work. I've learnt other songs this way but mostly traditional songs that, to quote my old mentor Pat Doole, "have stood the test of time". But, fundamentally I learnt this song because I had to if I wanted to get a gig around Melbourne in the 90's.<br>So what's so great about this song? Why does everybody know it, but have no idea who wrote it and probably little idea of who recorded it (although it's been top 10 in Ireland four times or so)? Why has it become a favourite of football fans around the world to sing at matches? Actually, there's a good study for someone. What makes a singable football anthem??<br>I think the key is in the first line of the chorus. "Low lie the fields...." It's sing along magic. An instant hook that rises from the verse like a towering wave behind a set of average breakers. The notes last a whole bar and the vowel sounds are perfect to sing. The notes are somewhere near the the top average singer's range but in reach enough to belt out. So that's the start....<br>Then there's the three verses with killer opening lines "By a lonely prison wall". Once heard never forgotten. And the verses themselves. The first two lines are from the narrator "By a lonely prison wall, I heard a young girl calling". followed by four lines from the girl which tell the whole story, and it's all matter of fact. You've stolen the tyrant's corn and now you're bound for Botany Bay. In the second verse the young man gets his turn. Freedom is everything, I did what I had to do and now you must make sure our child grows up with dignity and pride. The third verse all belongs to the narrator, kind of hopeless but with a glimmer of hope, "Sure, she'll wait and hope and pray" because miracles can and do happen and there is always hope for the future.<br>In my view this song doesn't preach. I'm pretty sure the lads at the bar would give it short shrift if it did. It's sad but it has elements of hope, and it's a ripper to sing.<br>There is probably one last element to this that I've neglected, probably because I've never left my homeland for any significant amount of time. This is a song for the homesick, for those thinking of loved ones left behind. Pete St. John himself spent a long period away from Ireland and I have a suspicion "Fields of Athenry" might have been written away from Ireland (I don't know that for sure though). <br>So there you go. That's the "Fields of Athenry" for you. The last thing to discuss it what key to play it in? Well, for blokes it has to be 'G' although I've often done it if 'F' if I'm feeling bit hoarse. Oh, and one more thing. Don't be tempted to mess with it too much and "make it your own". The lads at the bar will simply run right over the top of you like a herd of buffalo if you get too artsy with it. Just keep it real....<br>And here are The Dubliners to show you how it's done<br><br><a contents="Fields of Athenry - The Dubliners" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://youtu.be/NLZRWNdGCUc">Fields of Athenry - The Dubliners</a><br><br>Fields of Athenry – <em>Pete St. John</em><br><br>By a lonely prison wall, <br>I heard a young girl calling<br>Michael, they have taken you away,<br>For you stole Trevelyan's corn,<br>So the young might see the morn.<br>Now a prison ship lies waiting in the bay.<br><br><em>Chorus</em><br><em>Low lie the fields of Athenry<br>Where once we watched the small free birds fly<br>Our love was on the wing, we had dreams and songs to sing<br>It's so lonely 'round the fields of Athenry</em>.<br><br>By a lonely prison wall, <br>I heard a young man calling<br>Nothing matters, Mary, when you're free<br>Against the famine and the Crown,<br>I rebelled, they cut me down.<br>Now you must raise our child with dignity.<br><br><em>Chorus </em><br>By a lonely harbor wall, <br>she watched the last star falling<br>As that prison ship sailed out against the sky<br>Sure she'll wait and hope and pray, <br>for her love in Botany Bay<br>It's so lonely 'round the fields of Athenry.<br><br><em>Chorus</em>
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3736163
2015-06-10T22:06:21+10:00
2015-06-10T22:40:29+10:00
Welcome to Cozy Moments.....
Somewhere in the back of my mind the phrase "Cozy Moments cannot be muzzled!" keeps rattling around. I think it's from a P.G.Wodehouse book but I may be wrong. <br>The main character inherited a magazine which catered for knitters of doilies, scarves and other homely crafts and decided to turn it into a fierce voice in the front line of social justice (or something like that). Anyway, this blog will be about as focused as Cozy Moments as I'm in that kind of rambling mood.<br>I'm feeling pretty satisfied as a song writer having just been awarded first place in the Peninsula Folk Club's 2015 Songwriting Competition with my latest song "Midweek Valentino". It's really gratifying to be rewarded for the hard work that goes into putting a song together. This one went through seven or eight re-writes over about six weeks before it came together. It probably still needs a little work but it seems to hang together now. I won't spoil it by publishing it yet as I'm going to do a video of it over the next week or so. <br>Performing at the Folk Club takes me back to my younger days in Geelong and I realize how important these clubs are in providing fledgling performers with opportunities to develop in a supportive environment. I owe an enormous amount to the encouragement and opportunities provided to me by the Geelong Folk Club through the late 1970's and the !980's. Not only did I develop as a musician there, I would probably not have become a luthier were it not for the community and support of the whole folk movement in Geelong at the time. I really applaud the work of people involved in folk clubs and music clubs everywhere. It's critical and cannot be over valued.<br>Lastly, have a look at my shows page for some upcoming dates. The wonderful Suzette Herft and myself have a few show coming up, particularly this Sunday (June 14) at Hardiman's Hotel in Kensington between 3.00 and 6.00pm. I'll also be trotting out a few new songs at Wax Lyrical next Tuesday night and for something completely different I'm looking forward to playing with Kieran O'Connell and the boys from Shanachie at The Celtic Club on Sunday afternoon, July 5.<br>Hopefully I'll see you at one of these shows soon.
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3686901
2015-05-02T22:57:04+10:00
2015-05-03T03:30:12+10:00
George's Marvelous Medicine, or, Pat's Strange Concoction.....
When I was a wee tacker my parents used to make their own bread and porridge as well as grow heaps of strange tasting fruits and vegetables in our naturally composted garden. They were, in fact, a bit alternative and real trail blazers in their own way. Of course they also had five children of which I was the eldest. That meant I got to do a lot of the chores that sustained our healthy life style, including making the bread once a week and making porridge in the mornings. At first I quite liked the work but soon tired of it and started looking for ways to get "sacked" from the jobs. One trick was to load the bread up with all sorts of spices and added flavourings I found around the kitchen. Problem was, they made the bread taste amazing. I was an early boutique bread maker and didn't know it.....<br>Perhaps the least fun of the chores was milking the goats in the morning. We had two nanny goats, Sue and Sally, and a kid called Curlywig. One morning I was running a bit late and wore my school uniform whilst milking. Sally kicked a bucket of warm milk all over my pants and I was too late to change them. That was an awkward day at school I must say...<br>But I digress.... The point of all this is that I developed a taste for experimenting quite early in life as a way of beating boredom (not with mind altering substances I should point out, just tinkering about) which in later life has served me well as an instrument maker and developer. I guess the same qualities are necessary in song writing and composing, otherwise one would simply write the same song again and again (actually I think I've done that too from time to time).<br>I recently recorded a demo version of a new song and decided to muck around with it on Audacity to try and make it sound a bit bigger. I used a bit of reverb, tried doubling the guitar part and then thought I'd try to have the notes ring into each other a bit so I tried an effect called "Paulstretch" and tried the maximum setting first so I could learn what it did (this is normal practice for me "if a pill works, take the whole box full"). The result was incredible! What I did was to convert a three minute song into something a bit over thirty five minutes. The guitar intro, which is a simple arpeggio with some open string chimes suddenly sounded like a choir in some sort of underground cave. Quite magical. I was entranced by this revelation until the vocal started. Here's a tip for young players. Never, ever listen to your voice slowed down ten times. Those little slides you do sound really horrible against a drawn out note that is perfectly in tune..... Just don't do it!<br>So here it is - I've called it "Love Intro" for no particular reason. Any suggestions for a better title would be greatly appreciated.<br>It's a bit ethereal and perhaps a bit drawn out so find a bean bag, a glass of home made wine and a slab of home made bread covered with lashings of home made goat's milk butter and enjoy.......
4:05
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3674869
2015-04-24T22:02:17+10:00
2021-08-16T20:42:12+10:00
The Hard Life of a Much Traveled Guitar...
I've met a lot of guitars and guitar players in my life. In all sorts of places and situations but some really stand apart.<br>I first met Julz Parker and Leesa Gentz (I think for the first time anyway) in the dining room of a hotel in Verona, Italy in May 2009. I was there for work along with Alan Samin, Michael Fix and Alberto Meucci and it was my first night after a long flight from Melbourne followed by a long wait at the airport. Julz and Leesa were joining us for a tour of clinics and a few gigs. They were already veterans at this game having toured their duo, Hussy Hicks, though Europe several times.<br>Anyway, they came in pretty late and joined our circle, sitting down with their guitars and started playing along. They are both gifted musicians and extraordinary singers and it became apparent very quickly that Julz was no ordinary guitar player as well. Julz oozes music and was squeezing all sorts of amazing sounds out of her beaten up old Maton EM225C (it looked old but I later discovered it was about 10 years old and really well traveled). Eevn through my jet lagged eyes and ears I was super impressed and after I got to see some of their shows whilst on the road, even more so. It's safe to say I'm a big fan.<br>Julz and Leesa also played a key role in getting me back into performing as a musician. At the end of our ten days or so on the road we were sitting round a table in Tuscany, well lubricated with local food and wine, when I decided I would be brave enough to sing one or two of the songs I had written before I gave the game away in 2004. I must have done alright because they recorded the session on their Zoom recorder and I would get little quotes of lines from where ever they were around the world for a year or so afterwards. They encouraged me to keep writing and playing so I owe them an enormous debt of gratitude for rekindling the flame.<br>Anyway, the same battered old 225C turned up on my bench the other week with a back that was completely stove in along with a bunch of other issues. Once the back came off I could see the work of many different repairers from around the world so I took a picture of the insides before putting a new back on the old axe. While I was working on it I couldn't help thinking of that magic Italian tour 6 years ago and of the fantastic music I saw this guitar make in Julz's hands. It's going to sound great and I'm sure Julz will get many more years out of this old guitar as it travels around the world with her and Leesa. She'll have to, because just today I received a message from Julz in London telling me her Custom Shop Maton had been smashed up by the airline. I've seen the pic and it has too! So I guess we'll see the new guitar back on the bench real soon. We were able to help her out with a loner Maton so Hussy Hicks will still be playing Maton on this current tour.....Thank the Lord!<br>To check out Julz and Leesa's music go to <a contents="Hussy Hicks" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.hussyhicks.com/en/news">Hussy Hicks</a>. They're brilliant!<br>In the meantime have a look at the pics below. This is one tough old guitar....<div class="captioned justify_center"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/9148b4ba2d6e335fc726d0b9437b12d1d7acae53/original/julzs-225c.jpg?1429876717" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /><p class="caption">Bridge Plate Removal. Note the previous repairs around the bracing.</p></div>
<div class="captioned justify_center"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/c60e4be53ab1da1b62bf10a3f0445c4f3640222e/original/julzs-225c-2.jpg?1429876776" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /><p class="caption">New back glued on. Not too long now before she's sings again..</p></div>
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3651073
2015-04-10T23:33:16+10:00
2022-02-07T01:58:53+11:00
Live Songwriting Part 4 - Not Every Idea Is A Winner!
Okay, I admit it. Not every song idea is going to work. I walked past my bloke watching his wall earlier this week and felt like running up to him and yelling "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!!!!! IT"S JUST A BLOODY WALL!!!! GET A LIFE YOU *********!!!!". Of course I didn't. I just walked on, clutching my rosary beads and muttering obscenities in a language nobody but me could understand. The Gollum of songwriters.... that's me..<br>While this fella has been looking at his wall and I've been trying and trying to find a way into a song about it I have actually written two new songs and brought a third back to life. Obviously the wall song is never going to happen and I guess that's okay. It's given me a few songs as "spin offs" and that's great. <br>So, I'm going to stop beating my head against this wall (he'll only come and patch up the damage anyway..) and spend some time revisiting some abandoned songs to see whether I can bring something worthwhile out of them.<br>In the meantime come and see Suzette Herft and myself at the Albert Park Yacht Club next Friday night (April 17). We'll be doing some of our original songs as well as our Baez / Dylan show, Farewell Angelina. I'm particularly looking forward to playing a couple of Suzette's songs from her new album for the first time.<br>Details on my Shows page.<br>Hope to see you there.<br>Patrick<div class="captioned justify_center"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/df4062fd53db51274230c91146fee16c66dc3077/medium/gollum-lotr-characters1-300x266.jpg?1428672713" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /><p class="caption">The Gollum of Songwriters....</p></div>
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3643129
2015-04-06T21:34:38+10:00
2022-05-23T19:11:35+10:00
William F Barrow - Poet
<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/cda7dc15bae477c4c9264bd6ee9dc3c2a1fbcc48/original/william-barrow.jpg?1428319915" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br>I'd like to introduce you to William Frederic Barrow, Sergeant in the 7th Battalion RAA.<br>William (or Uncle Bill) as he was referred to by my family was a mining engineer from Ballarat, Victoria. He was my grandmother's (Lillian Barrow) younger brother. He was apparently very funny and a lovely man. He served in the Australian Army in the Pacific through the Second World War and died sometime in the 50's if my memory serves correct. I'm sure the family historian (Richard) will put me straight on this. To my knowledge he never married.<br>Anyway, while Bill was in the Pacific he wrote numerous poems, songs and even a play or two. I don't believe he ever had anything published and I'm not even sure he would have wanted to. I imagine he was pretty content with his work in the mining game. He wrote one or two short poems to that effect. <br>He had the truly dubious family trait of dreadful punning along with a delight in rhymes that make you groan. It's a genetic flaw that seems to be as strong as ever. My daughter Sofia certainly suffers from it and so, it would seem does my niece Rose. We wont even mention my nephew Louis who seems to delight in such "humour".....<br>Some years ago I came into the possession of an old folder of Bill's assorted scribblings, many in faded pencil and some neatly typed on the regimental typewriter. <br>My recent revival as a songwriter (I stopped for a good seven years or so after the Wrenboys) led me back to Bill's folder for another look and I stumbled on a poem called "To Arms". It was written in Balikpapan, Borneo in August 1945, about a month after the Allies captured it from the Japanese. On August 6, 1945 American Forces dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima. They dropped a second on Nagasaki on August 9. <br>This poem can only have been written days after these events. I find it astonishing and uplifting that and Aussie soldier at the end of many years of war with the Japanese could have written this poem. I wish he had lived longer. I would have loved to have known him.<br>Please enjoy "To Arms" by William F Barrow.<br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/1379621677a35989203c334151fa2a499045133b/original/to-arms-pg1.jpg?1428319969" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/cd42125de05a05314faceb9b1a9289f30939a383/original/to-arms-pg2.jpg?1428319956" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br>
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3617902
2015-03-24T19:00:00+11:00
2022-03-15T12:27:19+11:00
Music & Friends - What A Combination!
There are times when I have to pinch myself to see if it's not all a dream!<br>The last month or so has been a blur of great gigs at wonderful venues with friends new and old. Music has been amazing to me. I can't count the number of true friends I have made through music over the years, both through my role at Maton and as a musician. Some go back years while others are pretty fresh but they are all based on a sense of community, support for each other and a deep love of music. As we travel about the place my fellow musical adventurer, Suzette Herft and I continue to make new and wonderful friends. There is something about live music that breaks through barriers and brings people together. It's a really powerful force and one we need more of around the world (but I digress....). I think back to the grand old days of travelling around Victoria in a van with three or four other blokes playing dances in country halls and wool sheds, or driving to Sydney or Melbourne with a couple of mates, all wide eyed and bushy tailed, intent on making a dent in the Australian music scene, only to play to three drunks and a cleaner before turning around and driving all the way back again with forty bucks to split between the lot of us. Those were the days, and the friendships from they time have lasted forever.<br>More recently I remember the endless round of Irish pubs, four hour gigs til God knows when in the morning, with an ever changing lineup of great players, able to pick up a song ten seconds after it has started and get through it as if they've been playing it for years. Lots of mates from that scene as well.<br>More recently, playing shows with Suzette as part of a mix of acts for the event. Lots of great people there as well.<br>We've just returned from a fantastic gig at the Avoca Memorial Hall where we shared the stage with the likes of Colin Driscoll, Darren Colston, Maggie Murphy, Neil McArthur and more. What a great night and what a super community!<br>Anyway, the bus rolls on, and this Sunday I am doing a show at the Peninsula Folk Club (starts at 6.00, I will be on a bit later on) and I'm being helped by a couple of fantastic musicians who are also great friends. Emma Rodda and Suzette Herft will be joining me to showcase a few songs from our Dylan / Baez show as well as some old and a few brand new songs from my good self. <br>It's going to be a great night. The folks down at Frankston are a terrific audience and really friendly people. It's as cheap as chips too so come along if you get the chance.<br>Meanwhile I'll leave you with a pic from our Avoca show.<br>See Ya....<br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/8cd912e1901a49135a563c7a0aab28e58cdb675a/original/big-avoca-do-duo.jpg?1427116896" class="size_l justify_center border_" />
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3514539
2015-02-16T19:00:00+11:00
2015-03-02T00:26:21+11:00
Live Song Writing - Part Three - First Draft Lyrics
So this is where I'm up to with the wall song. I've got some lyrics but they're not working for me yet. I passed the guy again this morning and tried to say hello but he just looked at me with the most depressed expression on his face. I think I'm going to let him and his wall be. I think the song will be about letting things be rather than chasing a story at all costs. Anyhow, first draft lyrics below. You'll notice they fizzle out pretty quickly and I doubt any of these lines will make it past first draft.<br><br>If The Wall Falls Down – © Patrick Evans 2015<br>He rises each morning with his mortar and trowel<br>The cracks show up better when the day begins<br>It’s a delicate job, but you must understand<br>That a man needs to work with his hands<br> <br>All day the trams rumble and they shake up the wall<br>And the slate starts to crumble, the mortar to fall<br>If the cracks start to spread, then the ghosts might get out<br>Keeping ghosts in, that’s what it’s about<br> <br><em>If the wall falls down</em><br><em>He’ll remember the sounds</em><br><em>He’ll remember the screams and the tears</em><br><em>If the wall should fall</em><br><em>The phantoms will call</em><br><em>And the cries echo down through the years</em><br> <br>And each time I wonder as each time I pass<br>One more place where the mortar is freshest<br>When the years betray him, and his hands lose their touch<br>Will the ghosts really haunt him that much?<br> <br>I guess we all have our walls and our mortar and trowel<br>And the work never ends if we can fix it somehow<br><br>On the other hand - here are the lyrics for a song that just fell out while I was wrestling with this one. <br><br>We’re Away – © Patrick Evans 2015<br>I love this country that I’m living in<br>I love these people I call my friends<br>I love the long weekends, can’t wait for them to come,<br>Friday arvo hit the road and let the engine run<br> <br><em>Chorus</em><br>And we’re away ooh ooh ooh<br>And we’re away ooh ooh ooh<br>And we’re away ooh ooh ooh<br>It’s time to hit the open road and let the engine run<br> <br>When we were kids we used to pile into the back<br>In between the sleeping bags and cricket bats<br>Bumping down the highway nearly choking on the fumes<br>Playing games and saying “are we there yet?”<br> <br><em>Chorus</em><br> <br>Out where the air is clear and stars light up the sky<br> Where you can hear yourself and find yourself and be yourself…..<br> <br><em>Chorus</em><br> <br>To live to work just don’t sit right with me<br>I work to live, I’m working to be free<br>And I know where I want to be when my work is done<br>I want to hit the open road and let the engine run<br> <br><em>Chorus</em><br><br>This one works. It's simple and the message is clear. I videoed the song as soon as I'd finished and you can see the very rough, late night (the family was asleep in our little house) first run through in this clip. I've since re-ordered it (verse/chorus/verse/chorus/verse/bridge/chorus/chorus) after playing it through with Suzette Herft and some of the melody and phrasing have come together but I thought it might be interesting to see a song at its rawest, warts and all.<br>Let me know what you think......<br><iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="ESf9WHEhP7o" data-video-thumb-url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/ESf9WHEhP7o/0.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ESf9WHEhP7o?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="200" width="320" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe><br>
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3510364
2015-02-07T01:14:28+11:00
2015-02-07T01:15:31+11:00
Live Songwriting - Part 2 - Getting Started
Alright, so I've bounced the idea around and have a rough plan for how the song might unfold. Now comes the tricky part. How do I get this abstract concept into some sort of musical shape? To this point I haven't got terribly far. I've sat down with my guitar and doodled around looking for a mood or a tune or a phrase to create the spark that will start the process of revealing the song.<br>And, that's how I think of it. Obviously we as songwriters are responsible for creating a song but I kind of think that the song is already out there in the cosmos somewhere and it's our job to reveal it., as if it is an invisible being and all we do is throw some sand over it to show its shape. I find this a really helpful approach. I use it to design and create guitars as well. I feel like all the parts are already in existence and my role is to piece them all together in a way that makes perfect sense to me and draw on my experience and intuition to come up with the best possible result. <br>With a song it's pretty much a waiting game. Keep kicking it around, both conceptually and musically until something begins to mesh. Once that starts happening turn off your inner critic and editor and just let the thing come out, whatever shape it takes. The refining process will come later. Maybe the whole thing will fail. It doesn't matter, just get it out. <br>This week I've recorded a fair bit of video (which I will edit and post shortly) of me doodling on the guitar and humming lines or singing short snatches of phrase. Some of it sounds pretty bad but I'll put it up anyway so you can see the evolution take place. There are also some shots of my pyjama pants, which, in consideration of the boundaries of good taste, I will edit out.<br>Something happened this weeks that often happens when I'm trying to write a song. Another one popped out. On Monday night as I was stringing chords together and getting nowhere fast I found myself suddenly playing the chords for U2's "With Or Without You" and another tune popped into my head along with the phrase "we're away", often used by one of my colleagues. Suddenly I just wanted to sing about going on holiday and driving. It's simple but it's fun and I think works pretty well. The bridge still needs some work and some clunky lyrics need refining but basically it's done. I'll put this song up shortly.<br>So that's about it except to say that tomorrow (Saturday, February 7) is the anniversary of Black Saturday so I have posted a live video of the song I co-wrote with Richard Evans called "Black Saturday". Have a look if you get the chance and spare a thought or two for those who's lives were changed for ever on that terrible day.<br><iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="B1FldvxXG80" data-video-thumb-url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/B1FldvxXG80/0.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/B1FldvxXG80?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="200" width="320" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe>
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3498093
2015-02-01T21:28:13+11:00
2017-01-16T14:35:42+11:00
Live Songwriting - Part 1 - The Song Idea
This is something I've never done before and I don't know that I've heard of anyone else doing it either. I've always wondered how people go about writing songs and suddenly realized that this is a great opportunity to show how I go about it. There are plenty of retrospective interviews and demonstrations (not to mention analysis by experts) but here I'm going to bring you in on a song at its genesis and share the journey of creating a finished song. I don't know if it will even be completed (many don't make it) but even if it doesn't I'm sure the journey will be interesting to anyone interested in songwriting.<br>So today I want to let you in on the initial creative impulse that starts a song on its journey to life.<br>The Song Idea.<br>As this song reveals itself I'll use video and audio to share what unfolds but at this stage I just want to tell you about the idea.<br>For several years now I've been walking pretty much the same route most Sunday mornings through my suburb of Reservoir and on the main road (a fairly busy two lane road with a tram line running up the middle) is a typical 1940's style brick house with one of those slate covered low fences that runs along the front and up the sides of the property. There are a lot of these fences around our area, mostly in disrepair, but I began noticing this fence was in superb condition and usually had a small tin of mortar, a few plastic bags and a small trowel sitting on it in various locations. The rest of the house was in the normal condition of "main street houses" and looked a little tired. The garden was just functional, nothing remarkable. <br>Eventually I became a bit fascinated with this fence and over time I noticed a middle aged Asian man who would be standing quite still, just looking at his fence. Sometimes he would be working on it, patiently dabbing little balls of mortar into cracks and smoothing them over. I greeted him once or twice on my way past but he never really acknowledged me so I just let him be. This has been going on for a few years now and the fence keeps being patched up and he keeps standing there looking at the fence in the morning sun. Nothing changes to the rest of the house.<br>So what is his story? What is it about this fence? Will it ever be finished and why not work on the rest of the house?<br>I often stumble on song ideas when I'm walking. I often forget them as soon as I walk back into the house as well. If I try to get them back I can only remember fragments of what seemed a fantastic idea at the time. This morning as I walked past the fence I started turning ideas over in my mind. Nothing really solid but I did develop some sort of plan. I have included a picture of one of these slate fences (not his, I think he deserves his privacy) and some notes I jotted down when I got in from my walk so as not to lose the idea.<br>At this point I've got nothing musically. Sometimes songs emerge from doodles on guitar but I'm beginning to realize that my better ones are conceptually fairly well developed before I go near an instrument. <br>So, what is this song about? I often write songs that come into being with no clear reason for existence. They just emerge somehow and it can be really difficult trying to work out what I'm on about. These songs don't often work. Sometimes I try to get too clever by half and try to run several themes simultaneously approaching the song from too many angles. I'd have to say that these songs almost never work. The ones that work come from a simple idea or feeling. They explore that feeling (sort of living in "the now") and wrap up, hopefully making some connection with the listener along the way.<br>Here's what I think this song will be about. This guy is continually patching and working on his fence to a) keep busy without having to think, and b) covering over some truth that he doesn't want to see or remember. We all do this to some degree and if I get it right this song will resonate with many people. If I get it wrong it'll be some silly song about a fence.....<br>The next step will probably be some lyric ideas. I'll let you know when that happens.<br>Cheers<br>Patrick<div class="captioned justify_center"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/976ecd3cab7ef289d69fd167b8b0abc7ea1cedb0/large/wall-song-notes.jpg?0" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /><p class="caption">'Wall Song' Notes</p></div>
<div class="captioned justify_center"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/c563791c93b1f773d691b225ab2a79960e1f8260/large/slate-fence.jpg?1422786223" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /><p class="caption">Similar pattern to the wall in the song</p></div>
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3484016
2015-01-24T22:51:28+11:00
2017-01-16T14:35:42+11:00
If Clothes Maketh The Man........ I Could Be In Trouble!
I suppose all good things must come to an end but I was not prepared to let go of my trusty "Folk Bloke" hat just yet...<br>I had been looking for a hat I could wear without developing migraines (I have an enormous head shaped like a football with the point at my forehead) and which didn't look ridiculous for quite some time. I had some idea of a Casey Jones type hat to help cement my imagined status as a bona fide folk singer. I had also finally accepted that, although I have managed to maintain a reasonably full head of hair, it has little or no redeeming features and usually looks a bit like a middle aged curate who has just woken up after leaving one side of his head resting against a static charged balloon. Anyway, I finally found my hat for $30 at a Rivers store and I was set. It went everywhere with me and is the cap I'm wearing on the park bench in the main pic of my website. In recent months I had been obliged to get another hat as my wife Ann had informed me that it was "pretty disgusting" and probably had something living in it and should be thrown out. I found another cap in Cairns ($20 this time) which is ok but I refused to throw the old one out, instead hanging it on a peg in the laundry as my "gardening hat" (code for the hat I'll wear when nobody's looking). I cheerfully imagined I would wear it in a photo shoot or something as an iconic part of my folkie alter ego "The Folk Bloke".<br>Imagine my horror when I went looking for it the other day only to find it had been thrown out and I couldn't even rescue it from the bin as the rubbish had been collected! I was mortified, well, not really, but it did cause me to reflect on the history of the male members of my family and their invariably appalling dress sense and stubborn refusal to let go clothes that had long since surrendered any vestige of style or class.<br>My father used to tell of memories of his father receiving a right dressing down when attempting to wear his favorite green cardigan to church. "Maynard, you are not wearing THAT!" my grandmother would say.... Dad, himself was a truly awful dresser, opting for his favorite combination of boiler suit and terry toweling hat at the first opportunity. I have vivid recollections of him sitting at a table in a restaurant somewhere arguing the finer points of industrial relations with one pair of glasses pushed up on his head and another hanging from his neck on a dirty black cord with a soggy lettuce leaf draped over them, mayonnaise slowing dripping off one end and onto his pants.... <br>I think the thing is that, as men, we think clothes (like guitars) are at their best just before they're about to fall apart. Oh, and we simply hate shopping for clothes (I attempt to do a years worth in 20 minutes and then put up with the ill fitting consequences for the next 12 months). With rare exceptions the only reason we look any good at all is because the women in our lives care enough about us to make sure we don't leave the house looking like we're one step away from penury....<br>This attachment to old clothes can lead to unfortunate situations at times. I came seriously unstuck at Northland shopping centre a year or so ago when trying to get just one more wear out of a pair of underpants the even I accepted were probably past their prime. It was a hot day and I was wearing my work shorts (another stylistic triumph) following my family around from shop to shop whilst in my mind working on a new song when suddenly, and with no warning, the elastic gave out on my trusty old undies! So there I was, in the middle of consumer land, waddling around with the very tired ends of a tatty pair of underpants peaking out below each leg of my shorts.... I know cool young hipsters like to show the elastic in the undies to the world but not from this angle! So, I waddled into Target, bought some new ones and waddled to the toilets to change them. Lesson learnt! Undies are good for one year and not a day longer!<br>So, with the folk bloke hat gone (and a fresh set of undies) here is my new look.<br>Cheers<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/c6f9751712d2ab5996cc56a1ad9a53ee27276fcf/medium/thornbury-theatre-jan-2015.jpg?1422100351" class="size_m justify_center border_" />
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3458922
2015-01-09T22:52:02+11:00
2015-03-30T18:35:44+11:00
The Return Of The Evans Brothers - A Call For Tolerance
My brother Richard and I have written a few songs together and have some more in the pipeline but I thought it timely to post this one in light of recent events both here and in France.<br>A while ago I attended the Palm Sunday Rally in Melbourne and joined with thousands of others in protest against the treatment of refugees seeking asylum in this wonderful country of ours. I was inspired by the spirit and humanity of the gathering and a few days later tried to write a song calling for people who claim to be Christian to apply their Christian principles when dealing with those seeking their help, especially children. Unfortunately it was completely awful, so bad in fact that I think I should sell it to Metro Trains so they can play it at night to keep graffiti artists away from their railway stations and prevent gangs from gathering in public places. It might also have potential as a shark deterrent if played on a wrist bracelet with a small speaker, worn whilst swimming. Actually, in a cruel twist of fate, it might even be used by Tony Abbott and be played on speakers dotted along our northern coast line. I can pretty much guarantee it would deter practically anyone setting foot on our northern beaches. Yes, I wrote some pretty good songs last year (even if I do say so myself), this wasn't one of them.....<br>In desperation I sent the lyrics to Richard to see if he could help. He did the kindest thing and humanely disposed of it and scattered the ashes in the bin.<br>Then he sent me a set of lyrics he had been working on at the same time and I was blown away. He said all I had been trying to say but in a style that was instantly accessible and not in the least bit "preachy". I loved it. As has happened a few times now with Richard's lyrics the music pretty much wrote itself. There is something organic about the way we work together, maybe it's that brother thing....<br>The song is called "The City Has No Walls" and here it is, filmed at the Looney Tunes concert at the Brunswick Hotel in October 2014.<br>I hope you like it!<br><a contents="The City Has No Walls" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qYKDQuLW7ic&list=UUF81b3TrHYUYUjYiJ3ChXfA" target="_blank">The City Has No Walls</a>
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3368177
2014-12-06T23:06:55+11:00
2021-06-27T06:27:01+10:00
Christmas Wrap Up & Hello There Tasmania!
<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/1ed19a2f7d7cdb783a58760bc4c66a23aad89e72/medium/maldon-3-2014.jpg?1417867554" class="size_m justify_center border_none" alt="" /><br>As 2014 hurtles towards its end I can't help feeling that this has been an amazing year for me. In many ways it has been the best and worst year ever. It will always be the year in which I lost my much loved father Ray, and even more bewilderingly my dear little sister Liz. I've been through a few things in my 52 years on this earth but never had my heart torn up like this. I'll be glad to put this one behind me. On the other hand, what a brilliant year for music! Some ripper solo shows and the coming of age of my musical partnership with the wonderful Suzette Herft. Suzette has done amazing things for my music. She's a good friend and fun to work with. It's great when making music is a joy and playing music with Suzette is always uplifting and rewarding. I think this comes over in our shows and it has rubbed off on my solo shows as well. <br>Another highlight for me has been the support and encouragement of some other friends, particularly Chris Lazzaro, Trevor Shard (Wax Lyrical) and Neil Mitchell (Blues & Roots Radio) as well as Phil Young (3MDR), Edward Nass (Badfolk) and everybody down at the Peninsula Folk Music Club. You have all been far too kind and the support you have shown for my songwriting and performing is humbling and really appreciated. I'd like to make special mention of my great friend and neighbor Gordon Tresider who has put up with many evenings of my bleating and strumming in his home studio while I've been getting these songs down. His patience is endless (as is his supply of Chai Tea)! I can't talk about collaborators without mentioning my brilliant brother Richard Evans. Richard is now learning guitar himself so he might not want to give me any more of his amazing lyrics. I hope he does though, and I look forward to some more Evans brothers songs in the new year.<br>2015 is kicking off in style with Suzette and myself heading down to Tassie to play the Tamar Valley Folk Festival from Friday, Jan 16 - 18, Mountain Mumma on Jan 18 and Rosny Barn in Hobart on Jan 21st. We will probably be playing in Launceston on the 19th or 20th but this is still to be confirmed. March will see us at the Port Fairy Folk Festival for the second year running which is a great honour!<br>Lastly none of this would be possible without the love and support from my lovely wife Ann and beautiful daughter Sofia. Without them there would be no songs in my heart. I really am a lucky fella!<br>I wish all of you a wonderful Christmas and a safe and happy New Year and look forward to bringing you some new music (I've got some surprises in the can) and some more homespun philosophy and yarns. In the meantime have a listen to the site wide player on this site. I've done a bit of George Martin style cutting and splicing of some old (and not so old) songs and riffs over the top of the sounds of a typical spring afternoon in Preston. If you listen closely you can here the rumble of the route 86 trams as they round the corner at the top of the Plenty Road hill.
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3289804
2014-11-15T22:40:51+11:00
2022-05-18T22:15:41+10:00
Song Writing Competitions - The Dark Truth!
<div class="captioned justify_center"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/0957d157fa9b376d977074c07fc4aca040b5bd7a/medium/maldon-songwriting-comp-2014.jpg?1416048134" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /><p class="caption">The Rabbit In The Spotlight - Performing 'Fighting In France' at Maldon<br>Why, oh why do we enter song writing contests?There you are, sitting nervously on a wooden bench in an old country hall with all the other contestants waiting for your turn to deliver your masterpiece to the harsh, uncompromising judgement of a panel of experts, a panel who know just how crap you really are. This is not like strumming out your latest creation to the wife 'yes dear, that's very nice. Now are you going to bring in that washing or do I have to do it myself.... again?' No, this time your song is under the microscope and every little 'she'll be right' or 'I wasn't quite sure what to do here so I left it in' will come home to roost. Yes, you'll be drummed out of town with your lyrical tale between your legs and your melodic head hung in shame 'leave this festival at once and don't ever show your face (or your songs) here again!!!'<br>As I'm thinking these thoughts one of the other contestants, a wonderful writer and performer who I admire very much, turns to me and says 'I'm nervous'.<br>She's nervous! Good god, I haven't got a snowball's hope in hell! What am I doing here?<br>I look down the list and see I'm on 10th. As each performer sings their song I become increasingly desperate. They're all so bloody good! Not only that but the audience is stacked with great performers I've known for years. All of whom have come to watch me prove once an for all that any ideas I had of being a performer were hopelessly delusional (actually they were to support their mates but don't let the truth get in the way of a good story).<br>Finally it's my turn. I walk to the mic, hoping I remembered to do my fly up after my nervous trip to the water closet earlier. Oh well, too late if I havent. A bit of tackle adjustment might be kosha for test cricketers from the golden age of cricket but is definitely out of the question for a song writing competition, unless of course you're a hip-hop artist in which case you never take your hand off it. <br>I'm not allowed to say anything before the song which is just as well as anything I had uttered may well have been used against me later in court. Remembering my Granny's advice from forty years ago I breathed in deeply through the nose and out through the mouth several times. The nerves begin to steady and I start off, 'Football boots in the corner', what comes next? Oh no, don't think about it, just do it! Fortunately I had sung the song about a hundred times in the week or so leading up to the competition and muscle memory takes over. As each verse passes I feel a little easier and dare to look around at the audience a bit. One or two are looking at their phones,probably tweeting 'at Maldon Song Writing Comp. Evans on now LOL!!' or something similar. One or two others are clearly asleep, I can tell that by the dribble coming form one corner of their mouths. But some, miracle of miracles, are paying attention, maybe, just maybe enjoying it.....<br>I get to the end, and apart from playing the finishing note one fret too high (creating an interesting be-bop effect) I think the song went reasonably well, in fact I think I've survived! I go back to my spot on the wooden bench and start to relax. Unbelievably my hands start to shake and stage fright takes hold. Thank God I kept that at bay during the song...... I look around and am rewarded with some approving smiles and nods from my fellow competitors. It was alright!<br>I didn't win, that would have been too much to hope for, bit I did ok. And that's why we enter these contests. It's about putting your art up against the art of your peers and, in some cases, heroes. It provides validation for your efforts. The reason it's so terrifying is because it means so much to us that our songs are accepted. I have been on both sides of the song writing competition, often as a judge in my Maton capacity and mare recently as a contestant. I know how difficult judging is, especially when there is a wide range of styles involved. There has to be a winner, and you often hear judges say things like 'there were many fine songs today and it was really tough finding a winner' and I can vouch for this. It's not just a platitude to comfort those who didn't win. <br>So, go ahead, enter a competition. It'll test your resolve and teach you performance skills you never thought possible. Above all, practice that song till you <em>cant get it wrong.</em> If there are any weaknesses in your performance of the song they'll be sure to come out when you play it on competition day.<br>Thanks to all involved in providing the contest at the 2014 Maldon Folk Festival. It was a great experience and I'll definitely be back for more. Congratulations to Ann-Maree McKee and Bernard who took first place with a brilliant song and performance. <br>Oh, and the headline 'The Dark Truth'? Just trying to grab your attention tabloid style.<br>Cheers<br>Patrick</p></div>
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Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3249311
2014-10-25T09:39:02+11:00
2017-01-16T14:35:42+11:00
In Praise of the Humble Felt Pick
<div class="captioned justify_center"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/c6927d3ce03778b2153cced257032c2ffa756e99/original/image.jpg?1416048104" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /><p class="caption">View from the train window between Sydney and Newcastle</p></div><br>When I was younger I spent a decade or so working in music shops selling all sorts of musical goodies to an unsuspecting public. <br>One thing I don't think I ever sold was those peculiar felt plectrums that used to occupy the never opened drawers of the pick cabinet behind the counter. I can remember laughing about them with my cool mates. "What sort of musical wierdo would use these" we would scoff, as we tried to make ourselves comfortable in our too tight jeans while tripping over our I'll fitting hand painted red boots. Some older person informed me they were used on ukuleles. That made it even worse! How uncool could you get?<br>cut to the present. I'm in a Newcastle bound train heading for the Newkulele Festival, one of the great uke festivals and really looking forward to it. Ukes have become a big part of my world since embarking on the design and production of the Maton range of ukes. I love the instrument and I love the scene. So much for "uncool"!<br>I also have been given the honour of playing acoustic guitar (and a few other bits and pieces) on my good friend Suzette Herft's forthcoming album 'Roses'. The record is being produced by the wonderful Shane O'Mara, a genius on guitar and in the studio and who makes my obsession with instruments and gadgets look like a passing interest. Shane was trying to get me to play a soft strummed part and I was struggling. I suddenly flashed back to those dusty pick trays of my youth and asked "hey Shane, do you have one of those felt picks they used to use on ukuleles"? Of course he did! Probably the only man in Melbourne that would have but that's why we love him. So, despite the fact that it felt like stirring porridge with a soggy stick of celery I got the track done and it sounds great! I'm going to buy a pack at this festival and keep them for a rainy day. <br>Here's to a forgotten hero, the mighty felt pick!
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3235306
2014-10-16T22:49:02+11:00
2014-10-17T19:09:23+11:00
Meanwhile back in the present..OR..What happened to Ginger...
If you've listened intently to the lyrics of 'Too Fat To Fly' (and let's face it, who hasn't?) you'll realize that I spent much of my youth with my nose buried in Biggles books. By today's standards they are a politically incorrect nightmare, loaded with racial stereotypes, completely disrespectful to any culture other than that of the main character (and the author) and appalling in all manner of ways, but as a kid I loved them. What does this have to do with anything? Not a lot to be honest, but it does explain the title of this blog. In his formulaic way of churning out Biggles books Captain W.E.Johns would set up the main story and then have the characters split up at some point after which he would write several chapters entitled 'What happened to Algy', What happened to Bertie', What happened to Ginger' and so on. Saved on plots and made the books thick enough to persuade book buying parents that they were getting value for their hard earned money when their scabby kneed son came home with the latest edition ratting around in his leather school satchel along with half a stick of boiled lolly and a half eaten apple.<br>So, what happened to Ginger? No idea, but meanwhile back in the present I have been doing a few shows around town both on my own and with my musical partner in crime Suzette Herft and we have some video footage available. Today's video is of a new song written shortly after my Dad's funeral called 'Everything's OK' and was recorded at a recent fund raiser for mental health at the Brunswick Hotel. I'm pretty happy with it and I hope you like it. If you follow the YouTube link you'll discover my sorely neglected channel with a few clips from some years ago. Have a look at 'Shed Of Evans' while you're there. It's my brother Richard and me at our silliest and was a lot of fun.<br>I will be doing a set of original songs this Tuesday night (including this one) at Wax Lyrical so come along if you get the chance. There are some other great performers on the bill as well and it would be great to see you there. You'll find the details on my 'Shows" page.<br>Cheers<br>Patrick<br><iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="KHIAJkVW1DY" data-video-thumb-url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/KHIAJkVW1DY/0.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/KHIAJkVW1DY?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="200" width="320" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe>
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3217254
2014-10-04T16:22:30+10:00
2021-09-14T18:09:01+10:00
Musical Archaeology - A Memory Shared
I've always bee something of a nostalgist. Even as a young boy I can remember a hankering for days gone by and as a young song writer I rarely ventured into the 20th century. I have no idea why really. Perhaps it had something to do with growing up with out TV in the house and huge number of books, many published in the 20's and 30's (probably as a result of the grandparents clearing out their book cases). We listened to the ABC at home and 'Sentimental Journey' was one of my favourite programs as well as the many BBC comedy and game shows they used to play. Perhaps it was inevitable I gravitated toward folk music ,blues and jazz after a very short testosterone fueled dalliance with with rock in the mid to late 70's. <br>Cut to the late 80's (an era I have absolutely no nostalgia for, horrible hair cuts, acid wash jeans and ridiculous, pompous synth fueled dance music posing as culture) and there I was, in my mid 20's, pining for the dance hall days of the 40's and wondering what to do now that Fiddlestix had broken up.........<br>To be honest I had completely forgotten about this but my good friend and musical archaeologist / sleuth, Jeff Lang, unearthed a treasure from his dusty catacombs the other day and sent me a copy of a song we recorded together at Animal Farm Studios (Paul McMahon's studio at the back of Soundware Music, Geelong) along with Dominic McAlinden and Paul in 1988. The song is 'Marina's Hand' and is mostly nostalgic fantasy apart from references to The Palais, a dance hall that I played many times with many different bands in the early 80's. I think we were banned from the venue after star jumping off the piano while doing Pete Townshend guitar whirls whilst playing the Virginia Reel or something (can't have been the Pride of Erin me thinks). <br>Jeff is scorching on guitar, even in those early days. I can't remember a time when he wasn't amazing and I've known him since his high school years. I played the acoustic guitars and I think I did the fiddle part as well (though I might be claiming the work of Rob Doole, I just don't remember). The vocals are obviously me.<br>So, a nostalgic piece of nostalgia from a good mate. Thanks Jeff . I hope you enjoy 'Marina's Hand.<div> </div>
<div> </div>
3:37
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3195751
2014-09-20T16:06:34+10:00
2017-01-16T14:35:42+11:00
So you want to be a guitar maker!
I thought I'd digress from my usual course today ("What?" I hear you cry. "You flop all over the shop as it is! Usual course my #*#x***.......!") by musing a bit on a different aspect of my life - luthierie, or the art of making stringed instruments. Without wanting to blow my own trumpet (pun intended) I've done alright at this. Despite my father's well founded misgivings I've managed to pay the bills, put a roof over my head and send my daughter to school on the proceeds of this fine craft and had a fulfilling, fascinating career as well (an aside - not strictly true. If Ann didn't work as well it would be a bit tough but never let the truth get in the way of a good story) . At the age of 51 I still get up in the morning wanting to go to work, interested and engaged in the next development in the world that is guitars, and specifically, Maton guitars. I'm a lucky fella I suppose and I guess I'm where I'm supposed to be.....<br>This is very much a growing industry and Melbourne has the potential to become a major centre for quality guitar manufacturing in the world scene. Not in numbers maybe, but certainly in quality and prestige. The country's two major manufacturers are here, both growing rapidly, and the country's only accredited training provider is here as well.<br>NCAT (Northern College of Arts & Technology) first ran it's Certificate courses in Making & Repair of Musical Instruments in 2009. We at Maton worked closely with Bon Nardella, the driving force behind the new course to make sure it was relevant to the needs of manufacturers and the industry as a whole. Now in 2014 I'm glad to say it is going from strength to strength, producing talented instrument makers and repairers who I'm sure will play a huge role in the development of the Australian industry as a whole.<br>This is a far cry from the way my generation got into the business. My own story was a combination of luck, timing and sheer persistence as well as some guiding hands who helped steer me in the right direction when necessary. Information was scarce and often misleading, if it wasn't for the publications of the American Guild of Luthiers and Stewart McDonald catalogues I'm not sure what we would have done back in the 70's and 80's. <br>So, if anyone you know is thinking about a career (and there really is one to be had) in guitar making or stringed instruments in general please feel free to pass this blog onto them. Making instruments is a great thing to do and it's wonderful that we now have the ability to complete an accredited training course in instrument making. Here is the link to NCAT - <a contents="NCAT Musical Instrument Making & Repair" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://ncat.vic.edu.au/musical-instrument-making-repair">NCAT Musical Instrument Making & Repair</a><br>Just for something different I've posted a picture of myself with a couple of prototype tenor ukuleles we developed recently. They'll be in production soon..<br>Cheers<br>Patrick<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/93517ecf3091ce6d3ae6c9be47914e2b566f46cb/original/tenor-ukueles.jpg?1411192925" class="size_l justify_center border_" />
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3185467
2014-09-14T00:08:43+10:00
2022-03-15T12:29:11+11:00
Happy Birthday Jackie!
My little sister is having a significant birthday today. Jackie has been a huge influence in my musical life. She was always there in the early days and was a member of my first band 'Four Hand Reel' for a while, along with Rob Doole, Edwin Young and Dominic McAlinden. She was a great supporter of my song writing early on, especially when the rest of the world (or at least the scene I was involved with) was not into writing songs. It was all about learning tunes or traditional songs or maybe some covers, but not Jackie. She was (and still is) interested in the world of ideas and creativity, she's never had much time for the banal or boring. Very like our Dad actually. Jackie was there when we toured around the countryside playing one wool shed after another to huge crowds all kicking up the dust to the Waves of Tory or the Galopede. Later she was there when Fiddlestix were belting it out in the pubs, trying to get our original music out to the world. Quite often she would bring her little kids out to hear "Uncy Pat and the Noise" as my little niece, Mahoney, used to call us.<br>We've had our moments Jack and me, but I never doubted her razor sharp intelligence and perception and she always stood by me when it mattered. I think in later life we are closer than ever and I'm proud to call her my sister.<br>I've attached a photo from around 1970 in which Jackie and I are having "one of our moments". I think she's explaining to me the concept of sharing and I'm suggesting that possession is nine tenths of the law, or words to that effect. I've also uploaded another song from the Wrenboys album I think she would like. "Let It All Out" is buried at the back of the album and I doubt has had that many hearings, which is a pity, as I think it has a lot to offer. The harmonica is played by Mike Rudd, Will Oldmeadow is on bass and harmony and Fred Abery is on percussion. The rest is yours truly.<br>So happy birthday Jackie, it's time to let at all out......<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/d69643d6512a8eb9b35669137812fecb98425974/original/img-0013.jpg?1410615322" class="size_l justify_center border_" />
4:12
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3174650
2014-09-07T00:30:37+10:00
2017-01-16T14:35:41+11:00
Happy Father's Day ...
Happy Father's Day one and all. Yes, I really mean it!<br>Growing up my family didn't celebrate father's day or mother's day. They were seen (quite rightly I believe) as a cynical cash grab by retailers trying to create business out of feelings of gratitude, obligation and guilt. My parents didn't do it, and so neither did we. But now I am a father and a husband, and my daughter and I really enjoy getting mother's day gifts and making cards for my lovely wife Ann, and I know they enjoy doing it for me. My in-laws have always celebrated these days and they are wonderful occasions, nothing to do with the dreadful orgies of excessive materialistic conspicuous consumption my siblings and I imagined when we were younger. My daughter's school organizes a father's day breakfast each year which is great fun and it's nice to see all the other Dad's dressed in their business suits or high vis vests spending a bit of time with their kids before rushing off to work.<br>This year was a bit different though. It's getting close to three months since I lost my Dad and, though I still think of him often I am slowly getting used to the fact that he really is gone. This is a strange process this grieving. You think you're going fine and then something will cut through you when you least expect it. This time it was a reflection at the breakfast, it described a father's love for his child as the child makes their own way through life and how the father wants to shield his child from harm but knows he can't if the child is to grow and learn. That was my Dad to a tee. I miss him dreadfully and this father's day is a really poignant one for me and my brothers and sisters. <br>Anyway, despite the fact that he couldn't relate to much of my music at all (Dad was heavily into J.S.Bach and a bit of Mozart and Handel) he didn't mind the odd fiddle tune. I think it reminded him of a Bach fugue so I've selected a Wrenboys set of tunes for father's day. This set features the fine fiddling of Ewen Baker, I'm on assorted guitars and mandolin, Will Oldmeadow on bass and Fred Abery on drums.<br>I've also posted a picture of Dad as I'll always remember him. This is myself, Dad and my brother Tom having successfully wrestled an old bandsaw into position in Dad's shed. It took all day to do. We had to pull the back fence down to get it into the shed and it weighed nearly a ton. As was so often the case with Dad's little projects this machine has never actually cut a single fiber of wood since he bought it but he had a lot of fun trying to bring it back to its former glory.<br>So, this is for my Dad and for all the Dad's. Happy Fathers Day to you all....<div class="captioned justify_center"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/619a9760e9b3dedd560e550571ceec402fa8ab5d/large/dad-tom-pat-bandsaw.jpg?1410012383" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /><p class="caption">Patrick, Ray & Tom Evans plus the 'big bandsaw'</p></div>
3:41
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3162526
2014-08-30T00:46:16+10:00
2021-08-04T05:41:41+10:00
Spring, Indian Minahs and Musical Ruts.....
It's nearly here! Winter has had it's last gasp (and well glad I am to be shot of it really, this winter's been one I'm happy to see the back of) and Spring is charging in with its blustery northerly's, hay fever producing pollen storms and sunlit mornings as I head off to work. Yes, spring is here and a young man's fancy turns to......Well, frankly I wouldn't know, but this middle aged folk bloke needs to get the mower out and attack the lawn, open the creaky wooden doors to the shed and let some sun in onto the mummified rat's corpses scattered over his workbench and chase the redbacks out from the woodpile..... and, get some serious guitar practice in!<br>One of my favourite pastimes is sitting in the backyard with my EBG808 serenading the Indian Minah birds as they systematically harass the few native species left in the northern suburbs of Melbourne to the edge extinction. A lot of my practice regime has little to do with my songs and current repertoire, it tends to be about pushing my limits by learning new pieces or techniques which hopefully become absorbed into my own music. There's nothing worse than that dreadful feeling of being stuck in a musical rut (well, bankruptcy, marriage breakups, terminal illness and paper cuts are probably worse but still..) and I've been there often enough, but buying a new CD or learning a new tune from Youtube is usually enough to break out of it.<br>"C'mon Evans, cut to the chase" I hear you say.... OK. This track is called 'Apple On A Stick'. It's an instrumental (couldn't think of any lyrics) and it's based on the fingerpicking styles of some of my heroes. See if you can work out who they are...<br>If you get a chance please come and see me and Emma Rodda this Sunday lunchtime at the Frankston Naval Memorial Club, Langwarrin South, , me and Suzette Herft at Mama Vittoria, Fitzroy on Thursday night (8pm) or just me next Sunday (Sept 7) at the Peninsula Folk Club starting at 6pm. If you do, please come and say g'day. I'd love to have a chat.<br>So, please enjoy 'Apple On A Stick' and see ya next time....
2:37
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3149952
2014-08-23T01:22:30+10:00
2021-08-02T23:44:35+10:00
The Old Chestnuts...
One of my first great mentors in instrument making, music and life in general, was (and still is) Pat Doole. Pat gave me insights into instrument making that I still use on a daily basis thirty plus years later. For those that don't know, Pat and his son Rob (one of my closest friends) ran a custom lutherie shop in Geelong from the late 70's until very recently and it was there I "served my time" in the wonderful world that is instrument making. It's all I've really done since and I'm never happier than when I have a fine chisel in hand, shaving away at a beautiful piece of spruce. I'm fortunate that in my current role at Maton Guitars I still get to roll up my sleeves and create sawdust on a regular basis. <br>But Pat taught me a lot more than luthierie. He also introduced me to hundreds of "the old chestnuts", traditional songs or songs written so long ago that nobody could remember who wrote them. I played fiddle in his band Tam'O'Shanter along with Alastair Wilson and Bob Ballantyne and we played traditional music all around Victoria every weekend. I was the baby of the group at 19 years old. I think Alastair was the next youngest and he was about 20 years older so I was wide eyed and somewhat gullible (as I've since realized) so I was the butt of many a joke. Pat had a saying (he had many and they too rattle around my head on a daily basis) which went something like "you cant beat the old chestnuts, they've stood the test of time" and I've kept this philosophy throughout my musical career. Keep referring to the old songs, they're great for a reason, they have a timelessness that owes nothing to fashion and everything to the basic human condition. I love getting up with my musical mates and belting out 'The Wild Rover' or 'Whiskey In The Jar'. I've performed them maybe a thousand times and I don't tire of them. <br>I don't tire of the old ballads either and this is one I recorded with The Wren Boys on our self titled album. 'Black Is The Colour' has a million variations and this is one I learnt way back in those early days. We were joined on this track by Anita Quayle on cello and Janette Geri on backing vocals. Both did a brilliant job on this and I consider Janette one of the finest musicians I've ever worked with (I played guitar in her band for a year or two in the mid 90's). Fred Abery really cut loose with percussion and looping and I got pretty creative with the electric guitar as well (I used my old strat and a prototype Maton MS500 before they were released on this track). Ross Ryan excelled at the console on this one as well.<br>I'm definitely going to sing this song at 'Celtic Capers' with the wonderful Emma Rodda on Sunday week. Check the gig listing for details.<br>So, I hope you enjoy this old chestnut, 'Black Is The Colour'..<div><div><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/573c5202a104c75dc5b1155889ab5b28ae73346e/original/wrenboys-back-cover.jpg?1408720514" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></div></div>
4:25
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3138655
2014-08-16T00:30:50+10:00
2022-05-18T22:10:08+10:00
Never Work With Kids Or Animals......
It's an old truism in show business. Never work with kids or animals, they'll steal the attention and you'll be forgotten, left in the ruins of a once promising career, forced to go back to your old trade of....well, guitar making for example. Nevertheless "faint heart never won fair lady" as an old mentor of mine used to say (or something along those lines but not repeatable in respectable company) so here goes.....<br>Please make welcome Sofia Evans!<br>Sofia is my daughter and, as much as we love each other dearly, she can be a bit harsh on her old man at times. Well, let's say honest...<br>This song came from a conversation we had in the car after I picked her up from after school care and were heading for her violin lesson. Incidentally, I suspect she'll be showing me the way home on violin in the not too distant future but that's another story. The introduction to the song is pretty much the way the conversation unfolded. When you hear it you'll understand why I nearly ran into the car in front of me I was laughing so hard. The rest of the song is just me indulging my inherited sense of the absurd and making up silly rhymes. My brother Richard does this brilliantly as did my Grandfather on my Dad's side and Great Uncle on my Mum's side. My Mum is pretty clever with this stuff as well. <br>I had wanted to write a song with a 1930's style introduction for a while. I saw Enda Kenny do a great one at a songwriter's night recently and it rekindled my interest in the form so this is my attempt at an old style song with an introduction.<br>I asked Sofia if she would like to record the introduction and to my surprise she said "yes, let's do it". She was nervous in the studio but as you will hear she handled it like a true professional. I've never been so proud..<br>I've made this song available for free download if you join my mailing list. Just click the link <a contents="Too Fat To Fly" data-link-label="Music" data-link-type="page" href="/music">Too Fat To Fly</a> and you'll find it., otherwise you can stream it right here.<br>So, may I introduce to you - Sofia and Patrick Evans with 'Too Fat To Fly'.......<div class="captioned justify_center"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/af7a456d14abe55b48d16b6a5dc8aa8d53e5c00c/medium/pat-sofia-2f2f.jpg?1408111604" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /><p class="caption">Sofia and Patrick Evans in the studio</p></div>
3:17
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3126817
2014-08-09T00:18:23+10:00
2022-05-18T22:11:35+10:00
Homeland and The Year Of Meaningless Jingoism...
It was January 1988 and I was propping up a pillar at the Collendina Hotel, Ocean Grove, watching Mick Thomas and Weddings Parties Anything show us how it was done. I had two heroes at the time, Mick Thomas and Shane Howard. Both had shown that you could get out of Geelong and cut it in "the big smoke" and both were (and still are in my opinion) fantastic songwriters and performers. Anyway, it was a Sunday evening and Mick was waxing lyrical about the hoopla that was coming with the bicentennial celebrations for 1988. I'll never forget him calling it "the year of meaningless jingoism". It has stuck with me ever since. <br>Around the same time Fiddlestix was pushing hard trying to follow the path of our heroes , the Weddoes and Goanna. It was an era of politicized folk rock, of young men and women saying how it ought to be through boozy, smoke filled rooms in pubs throughout the land. You see things very clearly when you're in your early twenties and wondering how you'll pay next week's rent. You see an injustice, call it an injustice, and have another beer. Maybe you could write a song about it.....<br>'Homeland' was my attempt to hose down some of the meaningless jingoism of the day by pointing out that there was another side to the story. This land was not "our land", we had "acquired" it from the original inhabitants and treated them appallingly in the process. I guess most of us accept this as truth these days but this chapter of Australian history was (I think) often deliberately and conveniently overlooked until very recently. Maybe it still is when the interests of material wealth and culture collide. Shane Howard says it best in 'Heart Of My Country" with the lines:<br> <br>"You look into the heart of the land and you have to choose, <br>Whether the wealth you gain is worth the wealth you lose".<br><br>For Fiddlestix, 'Homeland' was our big statement. We wanted to make our point and at over six minutes long I think the point is well and truly made. More mature or experienced heads might have pulled the song back to three minutes or so (I was tempted to tonight actually) but we were young and not bothered about wearing out our welcome.<br>So, here it is, all the way from 1988, the full, unabridged version, "Homeland"! I hope you enjoy it..<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/b388a4d65af040f909769f03168cb5c8838af026/medium/fiddlestix-2.jpg?1407506137" class="size_m justify_center border_" />
6:34
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3118278
2014-08-02T00:33:43+10:00
2020-06-16T19:23:05+10:00
The Edge Of The World
Stevie Connor, the presenter of Wee Dan's Hoose on Blues & Roots Radio (you should catch it, it's a great show) told me that my song "This Old Guitar" had been played on Isles FM The Hebrides of Scotland or as he called it back home "the edge of the world". So my wee song has gone from downunder to the edge of the world!<br>This brings back memories of all the Patrick O'Brian novels I read and the adventures of Captain Jack Aubrey and his side kick Doctor Stephen Maturin as they sailed the seven seas in the wild days of battle and discovery. They went to the far side of the world (which must be somewhere near the edge) a lot. Somehow they always managed to return after a series of thrilling adventures. The thing I so enjoyed about these books is you could jump in and out of them anywhere, skip from book to book and somehow the story seemed to flow, seemed to hang together. It was like one enjoyable story you could dip in and out of at any time and, like a recurring dream, once in, it seemed like you had never left. I think I'll go and dip into a Patrick O'Brian book when I've finished this.<br>"So what' all this got to do with the price of fish?" I hear you ask...<br>Well, the song "the Voyage" off the Wrenboys album was written after a particularly heavy few months of Patrick O'Brian novels combined with the fallout of relationships ending and beginning. The nautical theme is obvious and if I remember rightly I might have borrowed a guitar groove from Christopher Cross's song about sailing during the initial writing process. It's buried in the mix if it's still there at all so I don't think I need worry about any "Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree" scenarios with this one. What is less obvious is the narcissism behind the lyrics. There are times, and I think it's a part of human nature, when we think the whole world revolves around us and our situation. Being in love is one of these, war is another ("don't they know there's a war on..."), losing a close friend or relative is another, being diagnosed with a serious illness and so on. The narrator in "The Voyage" is in love, bound on a reckless voyage, determined to end in death or glory or both. And of course, he's dragging his new partner with him "look at us everybody..." Frankly, everybody would rather they just get a room, get it out of their systems and get back to being the normal, fun people they used to be.<br>Still, I listen to this a fair bit even now. Musically I'm very proud of this song and there are some neat devices at play. A strong pre-chorus and a big pub rock main chorus. The guitar of Brock O'Connor is outstanding as is the "don't argue" drumming of Fred Abery. This is probably the rockiest track I've ever done so you might want to finish your porridge and orange juice and take the dog for a walk before hitting the play button.<br>Lastly, tune into Blues & Roots Radio 11am this Sunday morning (Melbourne time) to hear me on the Scaussie Music Show with Neil Mitchell. Hopefully I'll have digested my porridge and orange juice and won't burp through the lyrics....<br>Cheers<br>Parick
4:29
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3095444
2014-07-25T15:58:50+10:00
2021-10-04T21:14:19+11:00
Lucky Suns - Down To The Sea
<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/488327f29e7b13663880ff41f056b9884e7996a6/medium/lucky-suns-4.jpg?1406207543" class="size_m justify_center border_medium" alt="" />I guess I was pretty lucky as a boy. At the age of nine my family relocated from inner city North Carlton to Torquay (on Victoria's surf coast) for one year and then to Clifton Springs on the Bellarine Peninsula in Victoria. Our house was built on a block that ran right down to the water's edge; the water was Port Phillip Bay. We had the biggest, wettest back yard in the world! As kids we mucked around in boats, fished, swam, snorkeled and generally had the time of our lives, and if we got bored with the bay Ocean Grove with its surf beach and Barwon Heads with its river outlet was only a twenty minute drive away. <br>When I grew up I moved into Geelong (still close to the sea) and concentrated on music and instrument building so the sea became less a part of my everyday life but I still hankered for the lap of the waves on the sand and the sound of seagulls circling overhead. <br>After the demise of Fiddlestix (1989) I played in a bush dance band for a while (Diamentina Dance Band) and then formed a band called Lucky Suns with my old mate Dominic McAlinden, Peter Maskell and Grant Smith. We were later joined by keyboard wiz Danny Kriven and played around the Geelong area for about two years. We made two recordings, one self titled EP (cassette only) and an album (cassette only as well) called "Ten Songs". There are some strong songs on these recordings and even if the sound quality is a bit ordinary the energy and sheer amount of work we put in shines through. We are going to try and resurrect the "Ten Songs" album with a bit of studio fairy dust but the self titled EP still sounds pretty good. So, to tie all this together, I have uploaded my song "Down To The Sea" from the Lucky Suns self titled EP. This is the story of a middle aged bloke (sadly now true so it was a bit of a prophecy) yearning for the seaside days of his youth. The "fish and chips for lunch" in the chorus refers to the legendary fish and chips you can still buy in the main street of Queenscliff. The beginning is a bit "arty" as I took my German Shepard "Woodie" down to the beach at my Mum's place with a hand held cassette recorder and grabbed various sound bites to set the "sonic landscape" (I was doing Performing Arts at Deakin Uni at the time). Dominic calls out to the kids to "get in the car". This is due to the fact he was the only parent in the band at that time and we thought he could summon up the appropriate parental authority... I still play this one quite often and it usually raises a chuckle in the audience. Enjoy.....
4:04
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3086218
2014-07-19T20:41:40+10:00
2014-07-20T23:01:34+10:00
The Wrenboys - Rake The Coals
I wrote this song in 1998 and recorded it with The Wrenboys in early 1999. I don't remember that much about writing it except that it was mainly about an imaginary meeting with an ex-girlfriend (such meetings in real life are rarely that great) and a bit of homespun philosophy about moving on, hence "it don't pay to rake the coals of yesterday". The songwriter in me often lives in an imaginary world where he is a sort of preacher for the people, sending out truths and wisdom from an imaginary pulpit, spreading enlightenment with a well turned phrase or a clever internal rhyme. He's an annoying git to be honest, no wonder I banished him for a good ten years, sent to the songwriter salt mines for a decade of cultural "readjustment". These days (I hope) he's learnt his lesson and resists his "preaching" inclinations in favour of a more storytelling approach or a simpler, straight from the heart style. If not he may need to be sent back to the salt mines....<br>Anyway, recording the Wrenboys self titled album was great fun and I learnt a lot under the watchful eye of Ross Ryan who engineered and produced the album. This song features the wonderful fiddle playing of Ewen Baker, the rock solid bass and drums of Will Oldmeadow and Fred Abery and a bit of me on vocals and guitars. We did this one a lot live and it was a bit of a favourite at the time. I still trot it out on occasion as I'm quite fond of it. I hope you enjoy it and I'll upload other songs from the album from time to time.
3:04
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3070226
2014-07-12T00:16:31+10:00
2022-03-15T12:35:36+11:00
It's A Long Way From Fighting In France
When I was growing up I heard stories of my mother’s uncle, Reg Ellis, who had been killed on the Somme during the First World War. As I recall it was the younger generation that spoke of him. My grandmother never mentioned him and my grandfather was a silver haired man with a bristling moustache with little time for little kids. He died when I was six or seven and I only have fleeting memories of him. Reg was my grandfather’s older brother.A few years ago I found myself with a day off in London and decided to visit the Imperial War Museum (an amazing experience in itself) and while poking around the exhibits and gazing in wonder at the canvas and wire contraptions that people used to fly around in and shoot at each other I suddenly remembered the stories of Reg. I decided to look him up.<br>I casually wondered up to the computer screen, typed in his name and there he was, “Private Reginald Ellis, 27<sup>th</sup> Infantry Battalion AIF, killed in action, Flers, France, November 1916, no known grave”. I felt a huge surge of emotion rush through me and tears started running down my face. There was this boy, just turned 18, lost somewhere in the mud on the Somme and so far from home he may as well have been on the moon.<br>I started researching Reg when I got home and progressively learnt more about Reg’s story. A story repeated may thousands of times during that horrific war.<br>I have a friend who once told me he became so obsessed with researching dead relatives that his wife accused him of paying more attention to his dead relatives than those that lived with him. I know what he means. I would hurry home from work, jump on line eager to uncover the next mystery lurking in the archives of the Australian War Memorial Records.<br>I learnt of another uncle, never mentioned, who had fought at Gallipoli, been wounded, repatriated in England, married an English nurse and returned to Australia to settle in Belmont, Geelong, the same town I grew up in, and I’d never heard of him. What was the story there?<br>In amongst all this sleuth work I discovered that Reg had joined up underage and had changed his name and lied about his age. His mother appears to have played a part in the deception. He started his service in the Bicycle Corp in Egypt, was transferred to France and joined the 27<sup>th</sup> Battalion as a soldier mid 1916.<br>He was killed in the ill fated attack on German lines near the town of Flers on November 5<sup>th</sup>, 1916. There were two attacks that day, Reg’s battalion was in the first wave. They managed to capture German front line trenches but the conditions were so bad their rifles were clogged with mud and they were easy targets for German snipers. In the first attack that day there were 208 Australian casualties, 819 in the second. There was another attack the next day and Reg’s body was identified by a soldier from the 26<sup>th</sup> Battalion, George Osbourne during that offensive. He retrieved Reg’s pay book and a few personal effects but had to leave the body as they were forced to retreat. George reported the finding in the following extract from the Australian War Memorial records.<br><em>“I found his pay book (produced) on the 6<sup>th</sup> Nov. 1916 on his body. He had been killed by a sniper in the trenches we captured opposite Flers. His body was left there as we had to evacuate the trench the same day. I only identified the body from the paybook and some letters. Ellis’s mother address is :- Mrs Rachael Ellis, Horsham, Victoria”</em><br>George’s unit was from Bundaberg and he was about 26 when he found Reg’s body. I imagine a tough warrior, hardened by years working in the sugarcane fields. I feel a sense of gratitude towards him for taking the time to look after poor young Reg and to see news got to his family. George survived the war and the last entry in his file is a letter politely requesting the medals he feels entitled to for his war service. The letter was dated 1967.<br>Perhaps the most moving document I found was the enlistment papers for my grandfather, Harold Ellis, who joined up in 1918. We had understood that he had been too young to join up or that he’d had a bad heart or something but he did join up. His enlistment papers include signed permission from his father who noted that he had two sons already in the services, one killed in action and the other wounded and recuperating in England. My father told me that, as a result of so many families losing sons, legislation had been introduced requiring parental permission for a third son to enlist. And my great grandfather gave the nod!<br>As things turned out Harold had just completed his training when the war ended. Things may have been so different had he gone to the Western Front…..<br><br>This song is my attempt at telling the story of Reg and George. I hope it does justice to both of them and I hope you like it.<div style="text-align: center;"><strong><span class="font_large">Reg Ellis</span></strong></div><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/142043/afa2c0fd1a09ae9fbe62c401c726025fa469e24e/medium/001.jpg?1405086174" class="size_m justify_center border_" />
5:06
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3058172
2014-07-05T16:54:12+10:00
2014-07-15T22:13:20+10:00
This Old Guitar
I wrote this song recently as an ode to my old 1985 Maton CW80.<br>It's an attempt to explore the relationship we have as musicians with our instruments. I think we all have a favourite instrument and it's not always the newest, shiniest or most valuable in our collection. My old "ceedub" has been with me through the best and worst of times. It's always been there to work something out on, to doodle on watching the footy, to lug around to all sorts of gigs or just to lean over and listen to the songs that emerge.<br>It was with me on Black Saturday as I sat in front of the radio, curtains drawn, aircon blasting, as I listened to the events of the day unfold. We were waiting for Ray & Jill (my father and stepmother) to join us for dinner. They had a place at Marysville which they left mid morning to do a few things before joining us later in the afternoon.<br>The day was too hot (46 - 47 degrees celsius) to do much so I decided to have a go at arranging O'Carolan's "Shi Beag Si Mor" on DADGAD guitar. The result is actually the track that pops up when you open this site. My memory of that dreadful day will always include sitting for hours with my old "ceedub" listening to one disaster after another being announced on ABC radio. Fortunately my parents came down the mountain well before the fire storm started and were sitting with us as Marysville was destroyed. <br>A year later my brother Richard and I wrote a couple of songs, "Shed Of Evans" and "Black Saturday" to perform at a gathering at my father's shed in Marysville. The shed had survived the firestorm and Dad was so impressed with this he felt a gathering was in order to commemorate both the losses of that terrible day as well as the amazing survival of the shed. The music for "Black Saturday" was composed on, you guessed it, my trusty old CW80. I have other guitars (all Maton of course) and they're wonderful too but there's something extra special about this old guitar. <br>So, I have added two songs to my album "Acoustic Sessions", "This Old Guitar" and "Black Saturday". I hope you enjoy them.<br>As a footnote, my other brother Tom recorded Richard and myself doing a version of "Shed Of Evans" at the new house in Marysville early this week. I haven't checked it out yet but if it's any good I'll upload it.
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3047851
2014-06-30T19:49:22+10:00
2014-06-30T23:21:10+10:00
House Of Angles
I've just uploaded the Fiddlestix recording of my song "House Of Angles" onto my history page as part of the EP "Another Angle".<br>The first thing that leaps out to me is the huge voice of Colin James on backing vocals. Such a feature of that band. We recorded the EP in Paul McMahon's shed on his Fostex 8 track recorder. Tom Bauer did all the engineering and put in countless hours for us. I remember how much fun we had doing these sessions and I'm not sure how many of them were sober but that's what it was like in those days. I recorded this from a cassette tape my mother had. I've lost the records I had and have nothing to play them on anyway but I remember the night we opened the boxes with our shiny new EPs. We thought we were on the way!<br>I kind of like the tape hiss on this, it's as if the song was coming straight out of 1988 when we made it.<br>They were great days and my only regret is that we let insignificant personal issues and jealousies prevent us from pushing forward and realizing our dreams. If you listen to the track you can hear the excitement and enthusiasm in the music. But as John Lennon said "life is what happens while you're busy making other plans".
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3041500
2014-06-27T00:02:21+10:00
2022-05-18T22:07:34+10:00
Still In Love with You
I've just uploaded a new song "Still In Love With You" which was recorded live at my good friend Gordon's studio. You'll find it on the Music page. It has the odd click from the fingers hitting the scratchplate but that's what live music is all about I reckon.The song's origins are personal but some lyrical content was changed as it went through the refining process to make it more accessible. In general it's about the emotional journey you go through when your partner or someone you love gives you some bad news or news you didn't see coming. The only thing you do know is that you still love that person.<br>We're saying goodbye to my dear old Dad at his funeral tomorrow. I certainly know I still love him so I dedicate this song to Dad.
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3030516
2014-06-21T16:02:56+10:00
2022-05-18T22:13:23+10:00
The Evans Brothers
One of life's great pleasures is making music with family. I grew up singing in choirs with my Dad and more recently I've been helping my 7 year old daughter, Sofia, with her violin lessons. We play together pretty much every night. I always look forward to it and she sometimes thinks it's ok.... but, we are building a bond that will last a lifetime.<br>My brother Richard and I have written a few songs together, including a very special song to me "Black Saturday". This song was written to mark the first anniversary of the terrible fires that claimed Marysville. My Dad and his wife Jill had a lovely house up there that was destroyed by the fires. As luck would have it I had asked them to dinner that day a week or so before so they stayed with us while the disaster unfolded on the radio. I shudder to think what might have happened had they still been there when the fire swept through. A year later we gathered as a family (and with many of the friends Dad and Jill had made in Marysville) in the big shed on the Marysville property to remember the day, those who were no longer with us, and to celebrate life. The shed (which Dad insisted on calling a workshop) had miraculously survived the fire and Dad took this as an enormous positive in the sad landscape that beautiful Marysville had become. Richard and I sang this song at that gathering.<br>Sadly my Dad, Ray Evans, passed away this week (June 17) having lived a full and happy life and surrounded by those he loved. I sang "Black Saturday" last night for the first time since Dad's passing. It was tough but we got through it.<br>Richard is a proper writer. He has published several books and I am inspired by the depth and skill of his writing. It is another one of life's pleasures to be able to collaborate with him on songs. Usually he writes the lyrics and I find the music then we will massage the words if they need to "flow" a bit better to the music.<br>Richard has also been writing a blog on his thoughts on Bob Dylan songs which I think is quite brilliant. The link is right here. I urge anybody interested in songwriting or Bob Dylan or who enjoys good writing to check it out.<br><a contents="Richard Evans - My Year With Bob Dylan" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://myyearwithbobdylan.blogspot.com.au">Richard Evans - My Year With Bob Dylan</a><br>I will have a streaming version of Black Saturday up shortly as well as some (pretty rough but honest) clips of the celebration in the Marysville shed.<br>Cheers<br>Patrick Evans
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3020427
2014-06-17T15:34:31+10:00
2023-12-11T04:10:03+11:00
Songwriting Groups
I have had some great messages about song writing and how to develop / go further with this wonderful art form. <br>Im a member of Suzette Herft's song writing circle which has been absolutely brilliant for my development. There is nothing like having your song torn apart by people you trust and respect to make you try that little bit harder! It can be a bit confronting but, given that the idea of a song is to try and connect with people, to try and bring them into the vision or mood you are trying to create, it makes sense to test the song out in a small, supportive group before subjecting it to the scrutiny of the "wide world" (to quote Ratty from the Wind in the Willows" "beyond the wild woods is the wide world and that concerns neither you or me. We shall never talk of this again"). Oooops, how did I get here? One of the main criticisms I get for early versions of my songs is "I'm a bit confused, who is actually speaking and what is this song about?" I think this blog falls into this category. So to cut to the chase - join a songwriting group, or if you can't find one, create one.
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3016556
2014-06-15T14:48:06+10:00
2014-06-15T14:48:06+10:00
What is Folk Music?
Just lately I've been involved in a few discussions over folk music, what it is and where it comes from. <br>Of course, the next question is whether I'm "folk music" and the inevitable arguments that follow.<br>There have also been some discussions on "What The Folk" on PBS lately so I thought it time to put in my 10 cents worth.<br>I think the argument is a lot clearer when discussing "traditional music". Traditional music has a cultural base and has defined styles and techniques that have developed over many years. New songs and tunes are added to the repertoire gradually but they usually fit the forms and styles of the tradition. Various fiddle traditions are a great example of this. New instruments are slowly absorbed in the tradition but by and large the music remains as it was and the development of styles can be fairly readily traced back to the roots of the tradition. But is traditional music folk and is folk music traditional?<br>Modern folk music is a lot harder too pin down and it's very hard to explain what this is to those who don't know. Is it Pete Seeger in the late 50s? Is it Steeleye Span circa 1974? Is it Shooglenifty with their grooves? Is it John Denver, Cat Stevens, Joan Baez, Tracy Chapman etc etc? <br>My answer is a resounding YES! to the lot of it. I think we should stop worrying about what folk music is and just enjoy it, play it and share it.<br>Life is too short to worry about categories and definitions. Just get playing!<br>
Patrick Evans
tag:patrickevansmusic.com,2005:Post/3015496
2014-06-14T23:33:06+10:00
2021-08-04T03:59:01+10:00
Musing on the muse.....
I've been writing songs for a long time but I still wonder where they come from. Sometimes it's a drawn out process, you have a concept, start collating ideas, do some research (especially if it's a historic song) and start trying out different melodies and chord progressions. Other times they leap out almost fully formed and pretty much write themselves in an hour or two. These songs are almost gifts from above. It's like you've just tuned into some radio station from a parallel universe and plucked a song from their playlist. Now there's an idea for a song!
Patrick Evans