Steve Foster

I guess I was 18 or 19 when I first heard Steve Foster play. I used to attend the lunchtime concerts held in Union Hall at Adelaide Uni. They were usually band gigs, but Steve played a couple of shows there on his own. I was smitten on first take. I had been playing guitar for a while, learning the same few chords that most beginners latch on to and I thought my guitar playing was pretty average.

Steve had just released his Coming Home in a Jar album, and most of the songs I heard him play at these Union Hall concerts were from that album. They were strong songs – catchy and meaningful. And by and large simple. Steve used chords I played, and didn’t use any fancy picking. He just strummed. And the songs and his delivery of them were beautiful.

It was a moment when I thought “you know, I could do this. I know those chords, I can strum, and I have a reasonable singing voice. “ It was a moment I’d never forget. I learnt a couple of Steve’s songs and had great pleasure over the years telling people who liked them that they were written by Steve Foster, the Adelaide Steve Foster. (There is a much more famous Stephen Foster – the American songwriter responsible for a great many famous songs like Oh Susanna and Camptown Races.)

Steve left Adelaide for Melbourne and ports beyond in an attempt to make the big time and for whatever reason he didn’t quite get there. He should have – he got close – but that’s a story for others to tell. In my eyes he was certainly good enough.

Fast forward to 2016 and the Adelaide Fringe. Steve was back in Adelaide and performed his Dylan & Donovan: The Prophet, The Poet & The Sorcerers’ Apprentice at the Semaphore RSL Club. It was a wonderful show. As I wrote at the time, it was a real treat to hear that beautiful musical soul sing and play and tell his stories again.

Some months later Steve contacted me. He wanted to meet for coffee and thank me for my review – he figured it had gone some way to getting him invited to the Edinburgh Fringe. I hope it was that way. If so, it would be some repayment for the enormous influence Steve had had on my musical development. I was really pleased to be able to tell him firsthand about the impact his Union Hall concerts had had on me.  I told him how he had unknowingly helped me believe in my musical self.

Steve was to do another show featuring songs of the sea in this year’s Fringe but alas it won’t be happening. Steve died yesterday. One of Adelaide’s finest voices will sing no more. Thank you dear man. Rest in peace Steve.  

Collecting People

As people that have been part of my life start to die around me it occurs to me that in a sense one collects people. You gather around you people who make you feel good, or make your life better and richer. With friends and family you do this by enjoying their physical presence, but there’s a whole host of other people you have never met who mean a great deal to you, and who you will likely never meet.

In recent weeks I feel like I have lost 2 very dear friends – Vin Garbutt and Geoffrey Yunupingu. They were both extraordinary singers who filled my heart with joy and wonder and since I first heard them – Vin Garbutt in a folk club in Zaandam in Holland, and Gurrumul at WOMADelaide – I have collected their songs on record and tape and CD, and tried to see them live whenever possible. They were an intrinsic part of my world. They both gave me emotional highs of happiness and wonder. Vin also made me laugh. They made me feel fantastic and I took on the values they represented – dignity, compassion, joy, passion.

My world made sense with Vin and Gurrumul in it. I had sought them out on multiple occasions, and could play their music anytime I wanted. I can still do that, but something deep down has changed. I can no longer see them live. I can no longer imagine them playing live to others. I will no longer read reviews or see film clips of their recent concerts. They now become a memory.

They were part of who I am, or was. I was someone who loved their beautiful singing. I loved the way they looked, the clothes they wore, the way they spoke and carried themselves on stage. They were familiar to me. I had made them part of my psyche; they represented a part of how I viewed the world. They were singers that touched me deep in my soul. They both made me cry regularly.

It seemed a little cruel to take these two remarkable singers so close together – to rid the world of such voices in the space of a few weeks. We have lost two beautiful souls and a great many beautiful sounds.

And as I live on, I realise that bit by bit the people that I have collected; the people I have discovered that both nurture and nourish my soul – the singers, the writers, the speakers, my friends and family – will disappear. Until one day I will too.

In the meantime I either go on living feeling like I’m losing people and things I love, or better, try and continue to live and acknowledge the role they played in creating me, and making me who I am.

If you live to really advanced years this must get harder and harder – to have so many of your light posts disappear so that it’s just you and a few of your favourite things left – so it’s seems that I must collect something new. Find other ways of replacing what Geoffrey and Vin gave me; augment their memories with new songs, new books, new movies, new conversations - to make sure I don’t shrivel under the weight of sadness and disappointment their passing has wrought. Collect, assemble, and welcome new ideas, new experiences, and new people. I’m sure there are worlds I know nothing about…..