Song #60 Shadows and Sunshine

 

SHADOWS AND SUNSHINE

Life is hell, life is fine

And you’re free and you’re mine

And I fear nothing ‘cept a day

That you may say you’re leaving

 

CHORUS (1)

Shadows and sunshine leading me somewhere

Shadows and sunshine turning me on

 

To a life that is full

Of a place where I know nothing

But today will not end

If I get my way

 

CHORUS (2)

Shadows and sunshine teaching me something

Shadows and sunshine telling me hold on, let go

 

Of a life where you feel

A great joy – like a boy

For a change you’ve arrived

In a place where you’ve got something to lose

 

And it scares the hell out of me

That I would have to go on

Knowing if she were to go

It would be harder than ever before

 

To go on like before

All alone on the shore

Through a life that is fine

Where you’d have nothing to lose

 

CHORUS (1)

Shadows and sunshine leading me somewhere

Shadows and sunshine turning me on

 

© Michael Coghlan 1991

 

Commentary:

Coming to terms with being happy! And being in a relationship I wanted to last and fearing that it wouldn’t. And at the same time preparing myself for the worst should it be necessary! I remember being happy with this song but have no idea how it went.

 

Listening; Still Learning

 

I read recently that The Dalai Lama says the best thing one can do to improve the world, even if you can’t do anything else, is to listen. In the last year or so I have also being trying to live more in line with the dictum ‘you have two ears and one mouth so listen twice as much as you talk’ but it’s hard. Especially as you get older.

What I never understood is that if you are halfway intelligent and live 50 years or more you are likely to have learned quite a bit. You have taken in and processed vast amounts of information, seen countless movies, read hundreds of books and articles, participated in probably thousands of conversations, and simply observed people for half a century or more. You see patterns repeated; you’ve seen what works in situations, and what doesn’t. You have been mulling things over for at least 50 years, and ipso facto, you probably know more about life and human behaviours that someone who is 30 years old because you simply have much more data to base your conclusions on – more conversations, more perspectives, more concerts, more songs, more travelling, more heartaches. So you feel that you know more than people much younger than yourself. And you want to share what you know with them. But in one of life’s strange twists of irony, no one really wants to know, especially those much younger than yourself, for they are busy discovering their own path and realisations about the world. And so they must.

But what does the halfway intelligent older person then do with all this insight? Just listen???? Just learn some more??? Apparently so according to The Dalai Lama.

Something else happens the longer you live: your standards creep imperceptibly higher. If you’ve heard 10 songs, watched 10 plays and 10 movies the chances of you coming across another song, play or movie that is better than these 10 is very high. If you have heard 1000 songs, seen a 1000 plays and movies, those chances are much smaller. Through long term exposure to many fields of human endeavour you develop a keen awareness of what constitutes excellence – quality of life, of relationships, of artefacts of entertainment, of a sunset, of a view, and in a very real sense you become spoiled. You have recognised magnificence in life – of architecture, of art, of writing - and learned that it is rare. So I can go along and listen to a band and I will enjoy it, but I can’t help but subconsciously compare it with the music I have heard in years gone by and it is way less likely, though not impossible, to be as enjoyable as music heard at concerts in the past because my standards have crept up. I am now harder to please. It is harder to be moved by music, by the spoken word, by a spectacular view – because you have already experienced true magnificence in these aspects of life, and know how unlikely it is that you will experience better.

 I guess one of the keys to a successful older life is, despite all the wonderful things you may have enjoyed in the past, to treat every day and every new experience as if it could be as good as anything you’ve ever enjoyed. To go into each new moment unfettered by expectations based on past experiences. And listen 😊

Song #59 There Was A Night

(Listen HERE)

So who are you? I long to be with you
You breezed in from the past
Thirteen years ago have gone so fast
There was a night when I came home

Thirteen years ago - we made our choices
We've felt and caused some pain. Now here we are again
Will there be one night at home?

We've had children and needs
Sorrows and want
And still we both smile through it all
I would like one night at home

In the shadows of the evening you can't decide
Come play with me in the morning sun and we will ride

On for thirteen years - ah but who are you?
You breezed in from the past
Left me with a memory
Of a night when I came home

(Copyright M Coghlan, 1990)

Commentary

Elizabeth and I had met 13 years before and almost got together. Happily we found our way back to each other. Our song.

Song #58 Someone Dressed in Red

 

SOMEONE DRESSED IN RED

 

You have lived a long time

And you like the way you are

You’ve enjoyed your precious life

Though you never were a star

 

You had reached the point of knowing

That it could never be

You were in it for the long run

Lonely and free

 

So you go to another party

That will be like all the others

So many people out of reach

But there’s someone dressed in red

 

Your heart begins to wander

Like a traveller in a cold dawn

And you dare

To tempt the light of day

 

So you decide to follow

Another dangling thread

She seems so pleased to see you

But you do not fill your head

 

With dreams of how it could be

If you had not given up

And she says that she is thinking

Of never going away

 

And your eyes turn to water

Like a stream in wet winter

And you fall

Into the joy of it all

 

 

© M Coghlan 1991

 

COMMENTARY

This is exactly how I felt before I met Elizabeth. I had given up looking for love. And then hey presto Elizabeth turned up at this party in a church hall in Maylands wearing a red dress and the rest is history 😊

 

Destinations - Belle Chen

 

Her Majesty’s Theatre, Thu 21 Oct, 2021.

We have entered a world where one person, with the aid of musical technology, can sound like an ensemble. A solo performer, playing the role of technician as much as musician, can manipulate loops and sampled sounds of multiple different instruments with buttons, sliders and dials to create layers of sound of almost infinite variety.

In this work from Belle Chen, what looks like a grand piano – and occasionally sounds like one – but also functions as a synthesiser, organ, bell ringer, Theremin, and bass guitar. Add a layer of various sounds from nature (birds, water) and you have a luscious soundscape with many guises – soft and delicate, loud and dramatic, ambient and meditative – that feels very much like an exploration into the inner workings of the artist’s consciousness as they lead us through an unchartered path.

Chen’s touch on the piano is gorgeous. Her classical background was often in evidence but when her left hand keeps playing a gentle rhythm on the keys while the right hand adjusts the volume or unleashes the next effect that’s another thing altogether. At times she leans over the keys to hammer or pluck the strings under the lid, or uses the African kalimba to generate melodies and percussive patterns.

Projections that are displayed from floor to ceiling canvases either side of the artist and offer clues to Chen’s Destinations. Many of the images are abstract and allow the audience to build their own connections between image and sound, but other images of the natural world are intriguing and sometimes sadly poignant. I’d suggest that the visual impact of the projections may have been more impressive towards the back of the theatre.

Destinations is a performance of many textures; on offer was a multi-modal experience of contemplation and reflection; a celebration of the creative powers of an accomplished artist. Or one could just as easily close your eyes and simply listen to a bold composition that dares to be exploratory and expose the vulnerability of the artist and the creative process.

(This review also published in The Clothesline.)

The Laramie Project - Review

The Laramie Project

Holden Street Theatres, Fri 22 Oct

Long term Adelaide residents will immediately recognise the eerie similarity between the Laramie Project and our own equivalent moment of shame when Adelaide University Law Lecturer George Duncan was drowned in the Torrens in 1972. In 1998 a young gay man was brutally bashed and left to die outside the town of Laramie, Wyoming. “The skies are so blue here.” “It’s such a great community.”  “People are happy to live here.” “Here we let people live and let live.” “We don’t raise our children like that around here.” The people of Laramie struggled to accept that one of their own could be responsible for this appalling crime.

The Laramie Project is based on material gathered by a New York based Theatre group from 200 interviews with the people of Laramie. It’s an ingenious way to gather the raw material for a play and it works brilliantly. Each member of the wonderful cast takes on multiple roles of the townspeople: friends, barman, parents, staff and students from the local university, church figures, police, and doctors in a fast-moving parade of opinions and facts that essentially casts the audience in the role of jurors.

The first act does an excellent job of helping us get to know the victim, Matthew Shepard, and gives the audience an opportunity to establish their own personal connection with him. We learn that Matthew was a good guy and was universally liked throughout the town. The second act deals with the crime itself and the town’s subsequent shock and disbelief. A media circus invades the town and contributes to a shift in attitude in some of the locals. Sympathy gives way to cynicism and confusion: so we’re the centre of mass media attention because Matthew was gay? Was his life more important than that of a local cop who died around the same time?

Laramie clerics start using Matthew’s story to instruct their parishes. The Catholic priest wonders if the town should be grateful to Matthew for helping the town realise that hate and intolerance exist in Laramie and need to be addressed. The Baptist Pastor, Fred Phelps, took to campaigning against homosexuality. Invoking the authority of the Bible he insinuates that Matthew’s gay lifestyle had brought this upon himself. The final act deals with the court hearings, the ever-increasing debate around hate crimes and the rise of the Angel Action protest movement to counter the rantings of the likes of Fred Phelps. The courtroom apology of one of the perpetrators to Matthew’s parents was really moving, and the electronic candlelight vigil was a nice touch.

This is really fine theatre. The first-hand accounts of the townspeople lend authenticity and the cast really do a great job at managing multiple roles and costume changes and for once the American accents ALL sounded authentic – to my Australian ear anyway! I found the tendency to perhaps eke out more emotion from the situation than was warranted in the way that American dramas are wont to do a little bothersome but that’s the way the play is written, and not the fault of the cast.

George Duncan’s death here in 1972 led to South Australia becoming the first state in Australia to decriminalise homosexuality. Despite the worldwide media attention, sadly not one piece of legislation has ever been passed in Wyoming to address the kind of prejudicial hatred that resulted in the death of Matthew Shepard.

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)

OzAsia Festival - White Pearl

Sydney Theatre Company and Riverside’s National Theatre of Parramatta, Wed 20 Oct, 2021.

The set reveals a modern business office in Singapore. Lots of clean shiny straight lines and floor to ceiling windows. An advertisement for Clearday cosmetics loops continuously above the stage – just like the 24/7 screen assault one experiences wandering around modern Asian cities.

The five Clearday employees all hail from different parts of Asia and are over the moon at the success of their newest product. When a video that casts the company in a somewhat different light goes viral on social media the mood changes and they move into damage control. An electronic hit counter tracking the viral video ticks away ominously and relentlessly as cracks emerge in the social fabric of this young company.

Many of these cracks revolve around racism. Is it okay to trade in questionable cultural stereotypes for races that have a minimal presence in Asian countries? Can personal relationships overcome the negative intra-Asian cultural assumptions made about people from Japan, Taiwan or Korea? The dynamics of office politics and the power balance between genders are also put under the spotlight. A strong and even cast deliver an often sassy dialogue with a class and style that forces quieter personalities to conduct their conversations in other surprising locations outside the office.

Plenty of humour ensures the mood never stays too heavy for long – led by the local Singaporean employee (played by Cheryl Ho) who seems lost in an American rap style time warp. Kristy Best as Priya the Indian office boss is suitably commanding, while Nicole Milinkovic as a Thai American has a lot of fun (mostly) exploiting the Thai girl stereotype.

Provocative and confronting, White Pearl is an entertaining analysis of modern business ethics, cultural assumptions, and the role of social media in contemporary Asia and raises many important questions. But we may have to wait for a sequel to find the answers!

(This review also published in The Clothesline at https://theclothesline.com.au/white-pearl-ozasia-festival-2021-review/)

Song #57 Out on the Ocean

 

 

OUT ON THE OCEAN

 

There’s a wind out on the ocean

There’s a breeze that comes from far away

And ‘cos we live here in Australia

We know the air is fit to breathe

 

CHORUS

And what are you gonna do?

To make sure it stays that way?

What are you gonna do?

 

There’s a land across the ocean

Where people suffer and stand in line

Wait their turn just to come here

For they’ve heard this land is golden

 

CHORUS

 

But you gotta have love in your heart

There’s gotta be someone to hold

But you gotta have love in your heart

There’s gotta be someone to hold

 

What if you knew that out on the ocean

There’s someone coming here for you

She’s got brown skin and she’s from your dreams

She loves your child and wants to hold you

 

What are you gonna do?

To make sure that she will stay?

What are you gonna do?

 

(M Coghlan 1990)

 

Commentary

I don’t know what promoted this song. But with the current sad reality of offshore detention centres and temporary protection visas it seems eerily prescient. I don’t remember how it went either. Perhaps it’s waiting for a new tune …..

Song #56 Far Away Gone

 

FAR AWAY GONE

(Listen HERE)

Pack up your things and walk out that door

Just don’t expect me to follow no more

No don’t expect me

To be here in the morning

 

I think I feel that’s the sun’s gonna shine

I didn’t notice that I’d lost my mind

So don’t expect me

To be here tomorrow

 

‘Cos I’ll be gone – far away gone

         I’ll be gone – far away gone

 

I think I feel like going alone

Without that constant moan and groan

So don’t expect me to be here in the morning

 

I’m tired of listening to you

I’m tired of following you

 

It seems to be time when I tell the truth

Being the nice guy let you stay aloof

So don’t expect me

To be here if you return

 

‘Cos I’ll be gone – far away gone

         I’ll be gone – far away gone

 

© Michael Coghlan 1990

Commentary

Circling back to the break-up with Joti's mother several years later. Getting rid of more anger. Assisted by some wonderful clarinet from Sean Mangan.

Song #55 Arizona

 

CC Image courtesy of azmichelle

ARIZONA

 

You chose a road, a road you knew was long

And you found it hard, as hard as hell

Yes, you knew somewhere that you should not go

That you had no call to leave alone

It’s a long way to the USA

 

I’m sittin’ in Tuscon, Arizona

Remember how they said ‘Get Back’?

That’s exactly what I want to do now

Get out on the track that takes me home

 

I discovered I’d been living in a dreamtime

And I had to see the songs I’ve sung

I had to see those towns as they really are

And I came across Tonopah – and it’s a hole!

But they’ve blue skies in Arizona

And they’ve got a desert that goes on forever

        to Mexico         

 

Ain’t you been north lately?

Walked in your own backyard lately?

Checked out your own desert lately?

No.

 

Some will tell you don’t waste your money boy

They’ll tell you it’s just too far

Some will tell you you gotta travel boy

They’ll tell you you gotta travel far

You know it’s hard to please everyone

 

Some will tell you that it’s all right here

They may be right but still I go

I discovered

They’ve got a desert that goes on forever

                                                              to Mexico    

 

They’ll tell you don’t waste your talents boy

They’ll tell you don’t abuse your charms

You chose a road, a road you knew was long

And you found it hard, as hard as hell

But it’s a long long way to the grave

 

(© M Coghlan 1990)

 

Commentary

I remember waiting to check in for the flight out to the US and for the first time in my life being afraid of what might happen while I was off travelling far away. Why? Because I now had a child and I felt guilty leaving him. I felt like I was shirking my responsibilities, and that I shouldn't put myself in risky situations beyond my control. And as the lyrics tell, I spent much of the time wishing I was home. But I'm glad I went!

4000 Miles - Amy Herzog

4000 Miles
University of Adelaide Theatre Guild, Little Theatre, Sat 9 Oct 

Amy Herzog’s Pulitzer Prize winning 4000 Miles covers a lot of territory. It skips across multiple social and political issues affecting the contemporary American landscape. Ageism, dementia, the generation gap, incest, blended families, communism, gender balance in relationships, the importance of real communication, the role of therapy, alienation and loneliness to name a few. And yet not for one minute does it get bogged down in polemics or virtuous lecturing. Indeed, these are all side issues neatly woven into the basic tale of a young man trying to reconnect with family via his grandmother after an exhilarating and heartbreaking bicycle journey across America.

His grandmother, Vera, is in her 80s and lives alone. Though she is struggling with the old age curse of forgetfulness, she is still sharp enough to surprise her grandson with insights about politics and her past. Vera is wonderfully played by Julie Quick. You are immediately drawn into her increasingly lonely world and share her childlike excitement when her grandson Leo, played by Jackson Barnard, decides to stay awhile with her in her New York apartment. Barnard does a good job of playing the confused young man who slowly learns to relate to his grandma who chatters way incessantly while the young Leo struggles to get a word in. It’s endearing to watch their relationship grow and a shared rooftop joint ironically cements the connection!

Two strong, self-assured performances by two of Leo’s love interests complete the cast line-up. Naomi Gomez is gorgeous and beguiling as Amanda, the ditzy young thing whose language skills don’t appear to extend much further than the ubiquitous ‘oh my god’. Leo brings Amanda home to grandma’s apartment and this delightful comedic scene adds an unexpected element to the ongoing theme of communism.

Director Erik Strauts’ direction is unintrusive and suitably uncomplicated. Excellent use is made of the Little Theatre’s split levels and multiple entry and exit points. Slightly longer than usual interludes between scenes gave the audience opportunity to enjoy Emma Knight’s original piano pieces written specifically for this production, and reflect on what they had just seen.

Really entertaining theatre. Easy to enjoy, plenty to think about if you want to go deeper and in the delightful space that is the Little Theatre, everyone is close to the action.

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)

Song #54 The Sea is Rising

THE SEA IS RISING

(listen HERE)

It's the sea that makes me feel
Feel like this - so young and free
Yes this is me; down by the sea

From across the sea we all came
To live in this land, so far away
From where culture calls home

I'm a man so I could be wrong
I've got white skin so I'm probably wrong
I was raised a Catholic so I'm definitely wrong
But I'm not guilty here down by the sea

Now look at the sea, it's slowly rising
As the ice caps melt; oh how young I felt
Down by the sea

Men and women all so we could be wrong
We've all got white skin so we're probably wrong
All raised by parents so we're definitely wrong
No need to feel guilty; what's all the fuss
This is us - down by the sea

And now I hear there's a hole in the sky
If I want dark skin I might be young when I die
Feelin' older as I stroll on the sand
The sea is rising

What I'm trying to say is there's a lot of things wrong
There's been a lot of blamin' about who done it wrong
No one of us did it; we're all part of a throng
And the sea is rising
And the sea is rising
And the sea is rising

(Copyright M Coghlan 1990)

Commentary

Continuing an extraordinary rush of new songs over a couple of years, here is another contribution to the gathering clamour around climate change. 31 years ago - the song could be still as an anthem for the cause. With a few sideways digs at those who wish to believe that white men and Catholics were responsible for all the ills of the world :) (Things were only going to get much much worse on this front.) 

Song #53 A Hug for the Borderguard

 

A HUG FOR THE BORDERGUARD (listen)

Last night they opened up THE WALL
A source of wonder to us all
Now those who live on the other side
Can walk in peace that great divide
And go on home again

The world is changing

Cold War - what was it anyway?
I was born too late to have a say
That wall - I touched and I gazed at it
And wondered at the why of it
Last night they tore the damn thing down
No man's land became a place for clowns

A hug for the borderguard

As I watch the tears and joy of all those who
Can't quite believe it's OK to go through
Makes me think that I would like to be there too
As they pull the whole thing down
No man's land becomes a place for clowns
Berlin becomes a reunited town

Is the Cold War over?
 
If it happened there it can happen anywhere
A source of hope for the unfree everywhere

Last night they opened up the wall
A source of wonder to us all
No man's land became a place for clowns
Berlin became a reunited town

Is the madness over?
A hug for the borderguard
The world is changing

(Copyright  Michael Coghlan 1989)

Commentary

Like millions of others I watched the TV in awe as vision showed cars and pedestrians moving freely out of East Berlin into the west. I remember seeing a car stop. A woman got out and gave the soldier at the border post a huge long hug. It was one of the more powerful images I'd ever seen. I've never forgotten it. This is my celebration of the Berlin Wall coming down.

Song #52 Grand Old Lady

GRAND OLD LADY

Grand old lady of the family

Mrs Green to some; to me Aunty Marie

The family turned around her

And smiled at her ways

To keep us all together, but now she’s gone

I guess her time had come

 

So many stories of times so long ago

When you were young and beautiful they said

Fifty when I was born, you were always old to me

A sweet and charming grey-haired and old lady

I never knew how old until the last time that I saw you –

Thank you for waking up and squeezing my hand –

Saying whatever it was; telling me whatever it was

 

CHORUS

 

You won’t be coming ‘round on Saturdays no more

While my father’s at the football

My Mum will sit alone; she’ll drink her tea alone

Thinking of her trusted friend

        her dear and trusted friend

 

Of course now you’re gone I have to say I’m sorry

For walking out on your never ending stories

I was young and in a hurry

I was young and in a hurry

 

About your son – you need not be ashamed

I’ll wave a flag for that soft and gentle man

(After) Two years away you told me how I felt

You said it couldn’t be any other way

But sadder and wiser – how true

      Sadder and wiser - now that you have gone

 

CHORUS

 

...of the family

Grand old lady of the family – Aunty Marie

   Goodbye goodbye

   See you in heaven

 

(© M Coghlan 1989)

 

Commentary

I think this is the first song I ever wrote on piano. For our dear Aunty Marie. Talked incessantly but was full of life. Never really recovered from her son (my lovely cousin John) killing himself. After I had been away for a couple of years she told me on my return that I was no doubt sadder and wiser. It surprised me, and I soon realised she was right. She made my childhood and early adulthood a lot more interesting. Rest in peace grand old lady.

Song #51 Late on a Winter's Night

 

LATE ON A WINTER’S NIGHT

 

It’s late on a winter’s night

I’m playin’ alone at home

I wonder if I’ll ever play this song for you

I don’t know what it is that brought you into mind

I only know if you were here it’d be oh so fine

My thoughts again drift back

To that night long ago

I know we both lie awake at night

And wonder if we’ll know

 

Just what it would be like

If we gave ourselves away

Told your jealous man just we would have done

If we had not thought of him and let our passion run

We wouldn’t like awake at night and dream another end

 

You told me you were gonna cross the world

And join me over here

My body burned with excitement and fear

That’s exactly what I’d dreamed

It’s what I’d hoped you’d do

Without a word or letter somehow I always knew

But the birth of a baby kept you home

And the love of a country kept me home

 

So our love becomes a history

I wonder how many years I’ll think of you

Treasured memories of just that one night

The place was fine but the time was just not right

 

It’s late on a winter’s night

I’m playin’ alone at home

I wonder if I’ll ever play this song for you

Be your tambourine man baby

And play this song for you

 

© M Coghlan 1989

Commentary 

Written sitting on the floor in front of a fire back In Adelaide. Joti asleep, feeling alone, and mind drifting back to one beautiful night in Amsterdam.

 

Song #50 Man on Fire

 

MAN ON FIRE

(Listen HERE) 

Look over yonder there’s a man on fire

Life to death just a fusin’ wire

He figures he can’t get much higher

 

Saw a photo once of a man on the street

Alight with flame from his head to his feet

Gone to his end as a man on fire

 

He always knew it was a long time comin’

Lovely ladies always send him runnin’

It’s best he goes this man on fire

 

Burnin’ up from this unloved feelin’

His heart’s aglow; his mind’s a-reelin’

He’s gonna stop the eventual explosion

And end it all as a man on fire

 

Beautiful woman but he can’t reach her

His feelings smoulder; won’t someone teach her

How to love this man on fire

How to save this man in fire

 

See the smoke from across the valley

Soldiers slinkin’ down a broken alley

His number’s up, he ain’t keepin’ tally – anymore

No more

He figures he can’t get much higher

Goin’ to his end as a man on fire

Fire On Fire On Fire Fire

 

(© Michael Coghlan 1989)

Song #49 Across the Mekong

ACROSS THE MEKONG (listen in mp3)

In a world meant for others
I still find it hard to see
My way to the top
When there’s nothing there for me that I can see

I come from far away
But I’m forced to live here
Where everybody talks different
And not many care for me that I can see

I rowed across the Mekong
I spent months upon my feet
With my child in tow behind me
His mother’s gone to meet a different end

I don’t know whether to tell him
That everything will work out fine
He’s learnt the ways of this land
Where the sun always shines – but not for me

I’ve been 7 years a stranger
But there’s still no place for me
And though I still keep tryin’
I’m unemployed and dyin’ but I’m free

So I’ll leave it to my children
To reap the rich reward
From this land I’m forced to die in
Desolate and bored – where is she?

Did you get across the Mekong
And think of us lifelong
This dream we had to find you
Has long since gone away
But we’re free

(Copyright M. Coghlan 1989)

Commentary

I had begun working as an ESL (English as a Second Language) teacher and was in daily contact with people who had come to Australia from all sides of the planet. This song is based on the true story of a Cambodian man who escaped from the Khmer Rouge with his son but lost contact with his wife along the way and found himself alone as a single father here in Australia.

Songwriting

 

Rob Childs, SCALA Founder

After hearing my song Adelaide Born a dear friend suggested that I might write a series of songs in tribute to my home city of Adelaide. Aside from the fact that a few local songwriters (Keith Preston and his merry band, and Fergus Maximus and Dr D) have already done a fine job of this, it’s not really a thing I’m likely to do.  I was asked earlier this year why I write songs and my reply was almost glib but it’s the truth. I just have to. It’s just something I’ve always done. It fulfills a need somehow and it wasn’t ever a conscious decision. It just happened – around age 18 and has continued on and off ever since. What I find fascinating is that there are many fine musicians, some of them outstanding, who have never had the slightest inclination to write their own music. They are quite happy excelling in their craft while playing the music of others.

In a recent songwriting competition people were invited to write a song about South Australia. As I have done more travelling round my home state in this COVID world than in the previous 60 years I thought now would be a good time to put that experience into song. But I missed the deadline. The song will get written – I have begun – but it will take weeks. Perhaps months. There are one or two songs I have written very quickly but the norm for me is that they come into being slowly over an undefined timeframe. It’s a mood thing. Call it waiting for the creative urge if you like, but that’s how new songs happen for me. They come in dribs and drabs over time with no timetable; get reworked and changed as they grow, and at some point are ‘finished.’ (In fact many songs are never finished. It is always illuminating to go back and see the original lyrics of a song, or hear the original tune and realise how much it has changed over the years. They tend to have their own organic life where they keep evolving. ) However, I guess if I forced myself to, or if it were important enough to meet a deadline and finish a song by a certain date, I may be able to, but it's clearly not my preferred way of operating.

Songwriting for me is more of an organic process that occurs when the spirit is moved, or when I feel have something to say. In that sense it plays something of a cathartic role – the expression of thoughts and feelings that you need to get out. In the same way that a writer or painter may use their craft to clarify thoughts, exorcise demons, or simply think things through. These kinds of experiences don’t typically run to a timeframe. They happen when they need to. Or when one is moved, inspired, or provoked!