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Possibly the thing I have missed the most is Melbourne's live music scene. The removal of being able to go to a venue and admire the sheer volume of talent this city produces — not to mention the talent we also get in from other states and territories — has hit me hard.
Almost all territories have their own popular artists, writing and performing in their native languages. However, many of these musicians seem unable to break into the wider market. In terms of marketed music, there is no doubt that English speaking artists hold sway. Yet some artists, such as Sydney Aboriginal band Dispossessed, who perform in both English and in language, and Cardiff native Gwenno, whose debut solo album is sung entirely in Welsh and Cornish, are bucking the trend.
As tickets go on sale for this year's round of music festivals - Falls, Defqon, Bluefest, Lost Paradise, to name a few - organisers still have no means to counteract unsafe drug use. Recent years have seen an increase in drug related injuries and fatalities at festivals. The debate as to how to counteract this worrying trend is ongoing, and tricky to navigate due its subjective nature. Yet when zero tolerance policies clearly haven't worked, it's time to turn to harm minimisation measures.
In their stylish red and blue uniforms, they were a central part of big football games. They played before the game and at half time, led the teams in a formal march, 60 or more kids blowing brass and beating drums. The thousands in the stands were unaware of the harshness that these boys faced every day.
Fingers, impossibly nimble, weave melody amid the dappled tips of sunny seas. Rush it to foamy, gushing peaks. Drop it amid thundering, vigorous rolls. Set it adrift once more, wet, bruised and quietly thrilled. It's the moment when God arrives, whatever it is you understand 'god' to be.
In the world of popular music, the transition from intimate theatre or festival gigs, to stadium rock shows, indicates the move from an authentic emphasis on great music, to 'music as spectacle', or pure commerce. It appears Missy Higgins has reached this point.
Live Earth had united popular musicians around the world for a series of concerts highlighting climate change. In an oblivious act of irony they had contributed, on several levels, to the very problem they were trying to confront.
Clive O'Connell has taught secondary school English for 34 years; currently he lectures in project management and consultancy/business organisation, and also tutors in linguistics. He has been a music and opera critic for 32 years, first for The Australian, and then the Age.
After the dogs and the trots on the pub's TV have been silenced, the musicians arrange themselves around the table. Martin Kelly closes his eyes, plucks his guitar and sings a ballad written at the time when the potato famine was laying waste to Ireland.
The Federal Budget this year coincided with the release of Pope Francis’ Encyclical Fratelli Tutti. Both are preoccupied with the shape that society will take after COVID-19. It is tempting to compare their different approaches.
He came in, sat down, and we talked about Henry Lawson. He was well read in the field, having encountered Lawson not only in a small way at school but especially at home where his mother had given him an anthology of Australian stories and he’d come across ‘The Drover’s Wife’. We hit it off: he was pleasant, engaging and witty and we resolved to continue our talk in the near future.
Tall Fences, Taller Trees, directed by Dutch-based Iranian filmmaker, Arash Kamali Sarvestani, is a companion to Chauka, Please Tell Us the Time, which Sarvestani co-directed with Kurdish-Iranian writer and Manus Island detainee, Behrouz Boochani. On its most basic level Tall Fences, Taller Trees documents the making of the first film, but it is far more than that.
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