so, jobbo is back in town. so says peter bibby's instagram, and so says one evening of being on the porch, jobbo, tahlia, bibby and me, heaps of air guitars, air bass, air drums and heaps of actual guitar and actual new songs.
who is jobbo? jobbo is emlyn johnson, and it's a nickname he doesn't particularly like. one thing that happens when jobbo's back in town is that we get to hear all the new songs. this is the thing that pushes the rest of us to "work" - if emlyn is back you really need to have new songs to play, and they better be good, otherwise what the hell have you been doing??
i had no new songs - my excuse was that they were all on keyboard, but this excuse got picked apart the next morning as jobbo and i sat drinking coffee waiting to go vote. the voting happened after getting dinked for a while in a new way than i've ever been dinked before: that is, on the seat of the bike while the bigger person hovers in front, pumping their enormous long, jogging, jobbo legs up and down through fremantle.
before the coffee, i'd seen on the street one member of a new band i saw the night before at the bird, battling it out for the big splash - moon puppy blues band. the guy had red hair which is always a good sign and i rode up behind him, stopped my bike, stopped all the intertia of my body and my thoughts and my black velvet skirt and my big leopardy jacket that the night before when i'd seen this boy and his band had matched with the collars and cuffs of rachael dease's jacket, another judge, another person clothing themselves in the thought of a leopard to feel stronger in a man's world, that is, this one, for the minute.
so the red curly haired boy was on the street and my inertia was being stopped. i found out yesterday also that the reason soap works is by making the water molecules cling to each other less. water really really wants to be close to itself and so we need the soap to separate it. the water, when it sees the soap says "i just need some space, you understand", and for once, the other water does understand. it's better though when all the water sticks together, lakes, puddles without oil. i was thinking doing the dishes how 250 years ago in this spot people just picked and hunted food and never did dishes, never cleaned a coffee machine. the food came wrapped in nature and the wrappings turned back into food eventually, or coal, or, air, light, water, diamonds, spirits etc.
so yeah, the boy on the street stopped too and i told him "you guys were REALLY good last night" and we had a small conversation, and he gave me a hug and i told him "i was glad to go there just to see you guys play."
so the first band was high horse, with timothy nelson and others, one of the others being a man who reminded me of thingo from thingo band and whose guitar lines and tones were expert and my favourite thing as well as timothy's confidence. they were good, they knew what they were doing but some freshness was missing as many of us independently thought about weezer when they played, who we all loved but some magic was not there.
then the little moon puppy blues boys played and it was a different type of real deal. all the others thought they needed more time in the oven, but i hope they stay half-baked as they are. the main boy sung with a voice that man the older greek man next to me, who owns a hotel in london where he's excavating the underneath to create a music venue, and turning all the dirt and rubble into bricks which caused consternation to the town council til he smoothed them over somehow with his beautiful wiles, wanted them to keep playing too. there was something very beautiful about this boy's voice and all his dear songs from which i only can remember the words "dew" and "snail" that made the older greek man's heart and my heart and other judging hearts warm towards it. we wanted them to keep going even though or especially because the sounds were small and off centre and tru.
then odlaw played and mixed in many genres and with each mix the accent of the singing changed. for me this is the reason some music cannot be quite right, has not found it's own way, if the accent is borrowed, but maybe i should think like that for guitar tones too. they had good things about them too, energy, the drummer going for it, lovely mark neal's lovely way, generous playing, generous listening, but we needed an arrow going straighter to its mark.
and then iceage sugar. they nearly got to the place, the place of authenticity but again some lil thing was not there. they had dancing which some people found thumbs downy and i found endearing. they had a singer like a model, they had melodies, and they had songs that the right producer could waggle easily into some radio hits but they still couldn't catch that little strange and intriguing puppy who we saw heading round the corner and really really wanted to catch, see again, bundle up in front of the telly to look into its eyes for at least half an hour longer, maybe forever.