Define your genre in five words or less:
Folk’n’roll.
Bearing the terrible clichéd nature of this question, what do you reckon people will say you sound like?
A naked frolic with satyrs and nymphs in the Australian scrub.
What can a punter expect from your live show?
Very attractive people, usually. And earworms. Lots of earworms.
When’s the gig and with who?
The Wesley Anne, Saturday February 23, with supports Tim Ireland and Al Parkinson.
What’s the strangest place you’ve ever played a gig, or made a recording?
On top of a double-decker bus in Magdeburg, on a canal boat in Amsterdam, in a cobble-stone lane in Aarhus, in a fort in Cologne, in a backyard chicken coop in Mildura. Bizarre venues have become a bit of a trademark.
Tell us about the last song you wrote.
Hey Make Believer, the latest single, is about trying to re-capture that sense of imagination you had as a kid now that you’re supposed to be an adult. We turned up the fun factor with a crafty little music video by Stu Willis and Lisa Cookson shot here in Melbourne, plus some guest vocals by Darren Percival and Ray Mann. You can find it on YouTube.
When, and why did you start writing music?
Dealing with alienation? Seeking sex? I can’t remember. It doesn’t matter. Now I can’t stop.
Anything else to add?
Y’all should really come meet Tim Ireland. He’s just moved to Melbourne. He’s among the most neurotic and obsessive songwriters I’ve ever met – which means he is horribly unproductive but bloody brilliant when he actually puts something out.
