Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS WRITER
Story started at 5.25pm on the M44. Finished 7.25pm at the Clovercrest Hotel, Modbury North. First set starts at 7.30pm
Not many people get to play in a regular 50s/60s rock’n’roll band. I mean, I know a few, and to me it seems like a normal kind of thing to do, but on a per capita basis of the Australian population in 2017, it’s a rather low proportion, down in the 1:50,000 or something like that – which makes classic rock’n’roll musicians sound like a detailed topographic map (insert joke here about contour lines and wrinkles).
Back in the day – before I was born – playing in a rock’n’roll band in a town like Adelaide was a pretty common thing. People loved to dance. There was no TV – or not much anyway. Guys and gals craved an acceptable outlet for courtship, and there were venues everywhere, every night, that gave the boys (and apart from the singer in some cases, they were always boys) a place to play.
What’s it like now? I am on my way to tonight’s gig, tenor saxophone at my side, sitting on the bus after attending the famous Catherine Deveny Gunnas Writing Workshop today. Dev threw down the challenge of submitting a piece by 10pm of the same evening after her workshop, and for me, a thrown down challenge is a red rag to a bull – and so, dear reader, here we are. I’d like to give you a glimpse of what it’s like these days to play in a classic rock’n’roll band.
Words can’t do it justice, of course. Especially not my words, with my phrases still overlong and clumsy, my style too high-falutin’, my ego pushing through the prose like a pimple on the chin. But hell, I have been tasked to write, and I will write about what I love, and what I wish could be written for me to read – the intangible joy of performing music and seeing people dance and the conviction that this is worthy and respected and needed.
The band is called The Decibells. The reportoire includes California Blue, Breaking Up is Hard To Do, Johnny B Good, Shake Rattle & Roll, Unchained Melody, Great Balls of Fire, Brown Eyed Girl, Doo Wah Diddy Diddy Dum Diddy Doo. You know ’em all. And even if you think you don’t, you actually do, way back in the amygdala part of the brain.
The driving force of the band is Geoff on the keyboard, a highly strung sweetheart of about 70 years who dyes his hair, meticulously organises our sets and gets the gigs. He’s been managing rock’n’roll bands and playing in rock’n’roll bands since before I was a twinkle in my mother’s eye. Billy is on guitar and vocals, and I reckon he’s cruising about 75. He does the Little Richard numbers, rips them out like he’s 25. Sometimes he misses a double chorus or a return to the bridge, but who cares! John on drums is another septegenarian pumping it out, he has not missed a New Year’s Eve gig in 57 years – except for 2015.
I met him while doing jazz gigs, he swings hard, and has played with everyone in Adelaide. The other Geoff is on bass guitar, also a jazz guy with a day job and a family, he sings the high falsetto back-up vocals behind Angie. Angie is our lead vocalist, a no-nonsense nurse and sensational self-taught singer who has been doing rock’n’roll bands for years, and actually switched bands to join The Decibells because she needed LESS gigs and more family time. There’s Travis our dedicated sound guy, a Vietnam vet with a made-to-order trailer behind his Holden Captiva V packed to the brim with sound gear that makes sound good. Gotta love a good sound guy.
And then there’s me, on tenor sax, invited to join the band a couple of months ago, and loving it.
Why? Because the feeling of locking in with a group of humans on stage with no words necessary, making magic happen with three chords, simple words, a driving beat, with a room full of middle aged people (and let’s face it, some of them are officially and delightfully OLD, no two ways about it!) and they are dancing, dancing, dancing to these classic tunes – well, it is the best feeling in the world. It’s like amazing sex, it’s like catching up with your girlfriends from way way back, it’s like the first few days with your new first born baby when everyone is coming over and giving you love and casseroles and gorgeous tiny onesies, it’s like being at a great gig, except it’s even better, because you’re in the middle of it, making it happen, creating that connection.
That’s what it’s like playing in a classic rock’n’roll band.
END
Encore – This was handwritten on the bus on the way to the gig, and typed on an iPad during the first and second set break. It’s now time to get back on stage!