Ahh Melbourne.

Tonight we’re in Ballarat and my man Rok Poshtya from The Herd tells me this is his favourite regional town to tour. The venue is Karova Lounge and memories of school excursions to learn about the gold rush period come to mind as we drive into town.

Behind enemy lines...

Left to right: Chips, Urban Monk & Adit. Mellow dudes love shooting innocent animals

Err.. what I was saying about mellow dudes..

To explain the dynamic of touring is kinda hard and despite years of gigging I can never quite explain the state of mind or the intensity of being on tour to friends. Tonight is no exception, halfway through my show I’m handed a phone with the message ‘My brother was coming to the show but died earlier this week, could you please dedicate a song to him’.

Damn.

It’s tricky coming up with words on the spot to deal with that – but later in the show we dedicate a song that we think will somehow go out to friends and family of the fella.

Next day we head into Melbourne and expectations are high. It’s no secret that Melbourne is the capital cultural centre of Oz and I love coming down here and doing good shows – it feels almost like impressing that really cool girl in school until she wants to go out with you. But once you win her over and she’s all hot for you, you bail the fuck outta there like nobody’s business! I felt like losing a limb or damaging something in order to seal the deal tonight – I think I came out ok with only a few muscle strains. We had the trifecta of guests, Lior, Mark Pearl and Mantra join us.

Me, Pearly, Lior and Chips

But the really memorable aspect of the night was the electricity in the air – it was for me, the highlight of the tour and an unforgettable gig. We try not to do any half-hearted shows EVER but tonight we lifted into a new spot and it was fucking thrilling. Thanks Melbourne, you’re a sweet lass. The conclusion to the night was ridiculous, in the lamest way possible – our after party consisted of no music and a bunch of us chillin’ out in the hotel room. It seems the greatness of the gig suffocated all the excitement and celebration out of the night so we kinda ran outta steam post show. I’m cool wit dat.

Exhausted, we drove to Frankston for our show at the Pelly Bar. Despite the perceptions that a fair few Melbournians have about Frankston (each time we mentioned we were going there), we had a great time despite being mere shadows of ourselves. The gig itself was a cracker and the backstage area was a party zone… this photo kinda betrays it was a fairly sleepy party zone.

Gusto in hype man mode

Mondo, our insufferable tour manager and all round good guy navigated us back to Melbourne that night and we got up again to….

…drop off a car at an airport where we boarded a plane, took off and landed at another airport where we picked up another car and drove to another concert.

Fat as Butter Festival in Newcastle.

Genuinely one of my favourite places to tour after years and years of gigs at the Cambridge Hotel, Panthers, Leagues Club, Star Hotel and more.. We played to a lively crowd against the backdrop of Grinspoon and I almost slipped and fell offstage myself during Spitshine (injuries, near death experiences – there’s been more than our fair share on this tour). We must’ve done ok as we sold almost 60 items on the merch desk. That night we drove home in one of those ‘THIS IS REALLY FARRRRCKED UP!’ thunderstorms where rain is so furious that the car seems to buck at the constant smashing of water on its frame.

We arrived home safely. Thanks Mondo.

Spirit of protest is alive, just different
Alex Kaiser
August 15, 2009
The Age

THE 40th anniversary of the Woodstock Festival is sure to trigger another round of reminiscing about the 1960s. The familiar and celebrated images of the era – civil rights protesters, a young Bob Dylan with acoustic guitar in hand, Vietnam War protests and Woodstock hippies – will be juxtaposed to represent the ‘’spirit of the ’60s”.
Romantic recollections about the 1960s form the impression of a ”golden age” of youth political activism. Nostalgic and hazy memories have created the idea that the ”Woodstock generation” was the first, and only, generation to be truly politically active. It’s understandable that people who were active during these years remember them fondly, but it’s time to move on.
Sixties nostalgia can be clearly seen in debates on politics in popular music. In particular, younger people have repeatedly been accused of failing to respond to the Iraq War in the way that the ”Woodstock generation” protested against the Vietnam War.
Midnight Oil drummer Rob Hirst, in a speech at the ARIAs in 2006, claimed: ”Vietnam inspired some of the greatest protest songs ever written. Not so now.” Hirst is not a lone voice here. Many media commentators and academics have echoed his sentiments, both in Australia and in the US.
Neil Young led the nostalgia brigade in the US while promoting his album Living With War in 2006. Claiming there had been no protest songs written about the Iraq War, Young expressed his disappointment that it fell to the ’60s generation to take up the job again. For Young, and many others, contemporary music simply cannot compare to the protest music of the 1960s.
The continuing glorification of 1960s music reflects a broader romantic attachment to outdated forms of political engagement. Prominent members of the ”Woodstock generation” have been highly protective of their idealised role as the first, and only, truly political generation. Younger people today are still judged in relation to the methods of political activism favoured in the 1960s.
This judgment is coming from a generation for whom ”wireless” is more likely to evoke images of listening to Sunday evening radio shows than high-speed internet. Society has changed, and so have the forms of contemporary political participation.
Protest anthems had their place in the ’60s, but this music appears anachronistic in relation to contemporary politics. If sceptics want an example of political engagement in contemporary music, they need look no further than Australian band The Herd. Their style is diverse – sometimes they attack with unrestrained venom, as in their controversial track 77%.
Their 2006 album The Sun Never Sets contains four tracks that relate to war. Each takes a different viewpoint and they vary their musical style accordingly. They don’t provide a simplistic ”NO WAR” message or a chorus that can be sung at a rally, but they do encourage listeners to consider and engage with the subject.
The Herd give their listeners the credit they deserve, rather than attempting to ram pre-formed messages down their throat. Their latest album, Summerland, has many more examples of thoughtful, engaged and intelligent political music – it is multifaceted music, a world away from the crude stereotypes that dominate mainstream media representations of younger people today.
The current generation of younger people are not the first to suffer from generational attacks, but recent examples display a more personal edge than those of the past. The branding of an entire generation as selfish, unwilling to make commitments, apathetic and apolitical is a serious affront. The use of derogatory and trite labels such as ”Generation Why?” appear to be standard practice. The assertion that younger musicians do not reach the standards of the ‘’spirit of the ’60s” is consistent with these broader attacks on younger people.
Woodstock should be remembered as a great music festival, but its inclusion in ‘’spirit of the ’60s” reminiscing helps to sustain negative representations of younger people today. Sure, celebrate Woodstock and the 1960s (at least, the parts people can remember) but don’t do it at the expense of younger generations.

Alex Kaiser is a PhD candidate in the school of social and political sciences at the University of Melbourne.