The last two books I’ve read – a memoir and a biography – have centered around music and musicians. Both included lots of stories about concerts by various bands and artists.
It got me thinking about my own live concert experiences. Here are a few random thoughts:
First concert: The Monkees.
Can you believe it? I was in grade 8. I went with some school friends. One of their fathers was a policeman on crowd control. I have an image of the Monkees being on stage but I don’t have any clear recollection of any particular songs.
What I do remember is Micky Dolenz pretending to have a breakdown while singing some wild rock number, having to be led off stage, then breaking free from his handlers, charging back across stage, doing a somersault while simultaneously grabbing a microphone off the floor, before launching back into the song. (I think he was copying James Brown.) Rock ‘n Roll man!
I also remember jumping up and down on the tin seats of Festival Hall Brisbane waving streamers and yelling. It was quite a night.
The policeman dad even managed to get us some personally autographed photos. (It was a bit rainy that night and mine got a little wet.)
Loudest concert: Joe Cocker.
Saw Joe a few times in varying states of health and disrepair. But even when he needed a bucket on stage, he was still great. At one concert we were at the front near the speakers and before it started they handed out ear plugs. Whaaaaaat?
Most disappointing concert: Van Morrison.
Had high expectations because I love Van and I knew he’d done some great live stuff. But for this concert he stood near the back of the stage and rattled through the songs as if he couldn’t wait to get out of there. Which I think was the case.
Special mention also to Leon Russell. I think I dozed off at one point during his concert. He was not quite the Master of Space and Time for me that night. But in Leon’s defence I had played soccer that afternoon and I may have had one too many post match drinks.
Most uplifting concert: Bob Marley and the Wailers.
Might have had something to do with the enormous pall of smoke that engulfed the hall when the lights went down plus of course the great reggae music. By the end I was ready to get up, stand up and join the Rastafarians!!
Saddest missed opportunityconcert: The Travelling Wilburys.
Always wanted to see a Beatle live before I died and this was my chance to see George. Extra bonus – His Bobness, Tom, Roy and that other guy!
Then The Big O died and the proposed tour to Australia was canceled. Talk about the end of the line.
Best Dream-fulfilled concert: Paul McCartney.
Finally got to see a Beatle before I died! Well worth the wait.
Best smaller venue concert: Tom Waits.
At Mayne Hall University of Queensland. I remember that Tom was late getting on stage and someone called out, ‘Tom Waits and so do we!’ Talk about laugh.
When told by a critic his voice sounded like it was soaked in a vat of bourbon, left hanging in the smoke house for a few months and then taken outside and run over with a car, Tom said, “flattery will get you nowhere with me.”
Tom is not everyone’s cup of tea, but he is mine.
Most fun over the top concert: Bette Midler.
Queensland Police gave her a language warning. Didn’t stop her. Big Bad Bette =Brilliant.
Biggest hero moment concert: Bob Dylan.
I’ve seen Bob about five times over the years but the first concert was something special for a massive Dylan fan. Outstanding. Did one of his rare encores. When he finally reappeared he exclaimed, ‘I was half-way back to the hotel!’
Closest to the artist concert: Jimmy Webb.
My wife and I turned up at the concert by the legendary song-writer and discovered to our surprise that we were in the front row. We didn’t even have to reach out to touch the stage. Not only that we were positioned just a few metres from where Jimmy played his piano – looking straight at us. I have no recollection of buying those particular tickets.
At the end of the concert after a thundering rendition of MacArthur Park he walked to the front of the stage and my wife and I were the first people to shake his hand.
Luckiest break concert:Simon and Garfunkel.
Scored a last minute ticket when someone else was unable to go. Wonderful to see them together but I would have been happy with just Paul Simon who I think is one of the best singer song-writers of all time.
Honourable mention concerts: James Taylor, Jackson Browne, George Benson, Don Mclean.
And I’m sure there are others I’ll remember later.
Of course there are those people who would claim that the performances mentioned above pale into insignificance when compared to the Gone Fishin’ does The Dugongs Concert in Munich in 2010!
(Might be wise to give those people a wide berth!)
I mean Eastern European Georgia. The Georgia whose capital city is Tbilisi and whose population is around 4 million.
This one.
This particular Georgia is on my mind because I just received an email from the Senior Rights Manager at Scholastic Australia (one of my favourite people) telling me of an offer to publish Don’t Call Me Ishmael there.
If that publication goes ahead it will be 8th overseas edition of DCM Ishmael (Italy, Germany, USA, Czechoslovakia, France, UK, Israel) and the 6th translation.
Amazing to think that this book which was first published in Australia 18 years ago (!) can still find a new home after all that time. I’m both thrilled and very grateful.
The photo above is from the book-launch of DCM Ishmael at Padua College Brisbane in 2006. And see those three boys behind me? I have no idea who they were but looking at them now I realise they would be pretty great matches for the roles of Ishmael, James Scobie and Razz!
Apart from that good news the main thing I’ve been doing this week is re-reading Ishmael and the Return of the Dugongs and Ishmael and the Hoops of Steel checking to see if there needs to be any minor changes to the original text before they are both reprinted with updated covers in May next year.
In the end only one or two really outdated references were changed (because they would be lost on modern readers) and one typo was corrected but other than that everything stayed the same even though at times it’s obvious both books were written a number of years ago.
One interesting thing about reading your own books again years after they’ve been published is that you come across some things you’d forgotten you’d written. One was this little paragraph from Book 3 with Ishmael commenting on Orazio Zorzotto (Razz/the Razzman) dropping out of Economics.
But there were a couple of other things I don’t think I’ll ever forget from the first half of Year Twelve. One was the (overjoyed) look on Razz’s face when he saw his Semester One report card. I’d be guessing it matched the look on Mr Farmer’s face when Razz gave him the sad news that he wouldn’t be in his Economics class any more.
This made me smile because as well as being an ex-English teacher I also taught Economics. I’d actually forgotten that I’d named the Economics teacher in Hoops of Steel Mr Farmer.
Since Bauer in the German language means ‘farmer’, the teacher was more or less me in disguise. Even though I loved the wild, unpredictable and always-joking Razz as a character, I’m not sure how well I would have coped with having a ‘real’ Razz in one of my classes.
Possibly, like Mr Farmer, I’d be more than happy to see the back of him!
(And if any ex-students are reading this please refrain from any sarcastic or hurtful comments – I’m a sensitive artiste now!)
And of course I guess you’re wondering about my overall reaction to my re-read of the Ishmael trilogy. What did I think? How would I review them?
Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell, I’m way too humble to say things like ‘Works of towering genius!’ or ‘By far the best comedy series to ever come out of Australia!’
But if YOU would like to say those sorts of things, then in the words of Ishmael and the Razzman, I’d be TOTALLY COOL with that!
Michael Gerard Bauer Author 