FOOT&MOUTHNOTE: Trypswytch 07.12.07 Australia
daevid allen: pedal pyramid, walkaman & vocal FX box.
Stokers Siding is a mini mountain village on the flank of Australia's formidable Mt Warning. Here the land was stolen from the local aboriginal tribes by unconscious anglo forebears who gave the brutal short back & sides to the intricately beautiful & subtly structured sub tropical rainforest in order to superimpose dairy cows, pastures & Devonshire Tea.
The village hall is a cavernous & acoustically ungovernable mid 20th C wooden shoebox design with no discernable aesthetic intent but which has nevertheless improved with age, mould & uncontained greenery.
The community in recent years has expanded to embrace dropout genii from the metropolis, thinkers & writers, specialists & academics of every ilk hiding in their own private paradise from the dog eat dog Australia so beloved to the recently fallen right wing govt. To their scarily intelligent kids Stokers Siding is a hole!
So when Elenor, an old friend of Kangaroo Moon asked me to provide the entertainment for her birthday Epiphany Arts food & performance night I suggested something gently yet cuttingly acoustic like the Bards of Byron. But she wanted something much more experimental & avant garde & when I mentioned our Brisbane based sound art crew: Trypswych she was immediately excited. True I had my doubts but she was adamant.
The lineup consisted of myself not playing guitar but just my guitar pedals rewired backwards using the loopstation guitar loops as a source. These riddums became progressively more crunchy & less recognisable as they threaded the circuitry finally emerging as grey noise & static riffs. I had also a pack of minimalist obscura backing tracks on cd to weave thru the mayhem & my trusty vocal FX box.
Dancing & trancing out behind my pedal pyramid table in my white plastic jumpsuit I fully morphed into the D-Day DJ hymnself as these throbbing combinations of long lost guitar sound took on a life of its own & thwarted any control strategies on my part.
To my right there was Max Volume, trusty guitar genius & literary wizkid playing pitch free & atonal linear. To my left Kavi Treetops, flowerchild & wisewoman, fresh from the altered native protectorate of Nimbin, surrounded by angels bells, whistles & flutes innocently playing & singing into a very sensitive microphone.
Out front the two women, Misbah & Stef, cajoled & provoked, patrolling onlookers closest to the stage with deadly intent. Stef dressed to kill as DEATH, face plastered zombie white, and Misbah with her torso painted bronze, magnificent metallic breasts bursting up threatening to surface by surprise, eyes wide with mad beauty bursting in wild waves of words & illegitimate bodily intimacy over the first few rows of their temporal victims.
Not exactly the pre yule dinner & dance you would really expect in Stokers Siding Community Hall NSW. But in Brisbane's West End, San Francisco or New York, only to be expected.
From where I stood the music rose magnificently to incomprehensibly brilliant crescendos, interspaced with dark velvet slow motion whirlpools into which the mind dropped like a stone.
I was deeply impressed by Max's guitar playing.