Long before the band started infiltrating the urinals of the Melbourne music scene, Alfords Band Of Bullwinkles came about through Seeares’ interest in Alford’s fledgling compositions. Alford had first met Seeares through Seeares’ son, who was a fellow sound engineering student. Seearse’ musical pedigree dates back to the 1960s – one of Seeares’ early bands was managed by a very young Michael Gudinski, as well as forming a band in Adelaide with former Masters Apprentices member Pete Tilbrook – though he says he hung up his guitar in 1971 after realising there was no money to be made in playing and recording music.
Seeares eventually moved into the hotel business (including buying The Retreat Hotel in Brunswick in 2002), as well as running a small recording studio in the same suburb. Alford heard stories of Seeares’ guitar collection, and made it his business to present him with a few songs he’d written. “He just kept turning up with more songs,” Seeares laughs.
Despite having sworn off playing 40 years ago, Seeares was so impressed with the quality of Alford’s songs that he offered to play bass in Alford’s yet-to-be-formed band, and drafted in fellow old rocker Roul Thumpness on drums. “The best thing is that John isn’t doing it for the cash, and Roul’s not doing it for the cash either,” Alford figures. “Those guys are seasoned – we can do one set, we can do three sets in a night, and these guys plough through, which is awesome for a rhythm section.”
Along the way Alfords Band Of Bullwinkles has been augmented by the occasional presence of Oliver Clark on guitar, Peter Somerville on banjo, Matthew Cannella on piano and organ and a second banjo player by the name of Carl ‘Guitanjo’. “He won’t tell us his last name,” Alford laughs. “It’s Carl Guitanjo,” Seeares says. “He plays a cross between a guitar and a banjo – very strange looking thing. It looks like something medieval.”
Regular access to Seeares’ recording studio has allowed the band to adopt a relaxed attitude to the recording process. “We can go in there any time and play as loud as we want,” Alford says. “We haven’t had a shoe thrown at us yet!” Seeares laughs. Notwithstanding access to his recording and playing infrastructure, Seeares says it’s Alford’s songwriting that’s at the heart of Alfords Band Of Bullwinkles. “Matt writes the songs – the whole band’s about Matt,” Seeares says. “Every song is a story – I don’t care where he gets the stories, but they’re great. Matt comes over with a song, we work it up, we gig it around and then we record it. It’s totally independent.”
Alford had previously played with Mad Cow some years ago before taking a hiatus from performing. At last count Alford says he’s got about 80 songs (“enough for about three or four albums”) that he’s gradually introducing to his band mates.
“I really like the story element,” Alford says. “The way I look at it, you take a really complicated idea and you try and simplify it. So you get love or hate or something, throw in a few words and try and get people to dance, throw stuff, have a drink,” he says matter-of-factly. Alford says many of his songs derive from “big things that happen to other people” – a friend ducking from the view of former boyfriends while driving down Brunswick Street, a former band member’s personal idiosyncrasies, cross-border transportation.
Initial reaction to the band’s debut album, Bully Rock, has been strong on Facebook and Jango. “On Jango, which is our internet radio station, we’re up to about 1200 – that’s the one I like because people have to hear the music, and then they leave a comment,” Alford says. “And heaps of people are leaving comments, and most of it is from places like Texas, Nashville and stuff. People have been asking us to go over there, and for autographed CDs – it’s been great,” he says.
The National Piss Take Campaign was born of the difficulty of getting music out to audiences in a competitive music market. “You put your CD in JB Hi-Fi, or even a smaller record store, and there’s thousands of other CDs. Put it in a urinal, and there’s no other CDs there,” Alford says. “So someone in there is going to listen to it. Even if they hate it, at least they’ve listened to it. And my thing about the first CD is not so much selling it, but getting people to listen to it. It’s so hard to get exposure,” Alford muses.
Ladies bathrooms are not necessarily immune, either. “The best thing is going up to the bar and saying ‘Do you mind if I drop something off in the ladies toilet?’” Alford laughs. So far CDs have been distributed to Sydney, Brisbane and Adelaide and as Alford says, “Whether it works or not … we don’t take ourselves seriously, we’re not in it for the cash,” he reasons. “While we’re having fun, we’ll keep going,” Seeares adds.
