KRISSI WEISS: Was it your choice to pair with Madup or a union brought about through Emerge curators?
JUSTIN MARSHALL: I was living in Castlemaine from 2004 to 2010 and first saw Madup performing with his band at an Australia Day naturalization event in the park.
I thought his band were cool, 10 or more performers all dressed really well with suits, yellow shirts and pink ties, and they were doing this music, I didn’t know what it was but it was loose and funky and I liked it. There are about 100 people of Sudanese origin living and working in Castlemaine and it was great to hear some of their music.
Later, in 2011, I had a chance to work with Madup on the opening of the Castlemaine State Festival and it was there that I first arranged one of his songs for a big band and played it on the street on the opening night. It sounded great, the public liked it and Madup liked it and so we said that down the track we’ll have to do some more. When the ReMastered Myths thing came up I knew that The Putbacks would be a perfect match to explore further the music Madup plays and also the possibilities a musical collaboration.
KW: How do you go about creating something that essentially has a brief, but while remaining creatively free? Further to that, how was the first session with the band and Madup (awkward, exciting, stilted)?
JM: There are definitely big challenges in a collaboration like this. Like any collaboration, it takes a fair bit a faith and patience, and things take more time to evolve and settle. For the most part, as a starting point, we are re-interpreting Madup’s songs that he has already played many times with Sudanese musicians who know his particular musical language well, particularly when it comes to the vocal embellishments that are played on the guitar and the rhythms. But everyone and particularly Madup has been really open to hearing the songs in a new way and we’re getting some exciting sounds, and yeah, the potential is really exciting.
KW: With The Putbacks already harnessing such a global sound, what habits of your own did you all draw on for this and conversely, how were you forced to stretch yourselves musically?
JM: We’re definitely being stretched in terms of structure and form. Songs will change slightly differently every time; arrangements need to be fluid. When you’re new to a song, and it has some strange extra beat here and there and then things change every time you play it and you’re just getting a handle on the melody, it can be a challenge. But that’s also the exciting thing and keeps everyone on their toes. Mostly there has been a real commonality there, big funky riffs and twangy bluesy sounds and so in other ways it’s just been easy and natural. Some of Madup’s ideas reminded us of Hendrix or Ali Farka Toure, so it’s not too much of a stretch.
KW: Do you truly think that events like this are able to successfully puncture the psyche of the audience (and any cultural biases people have) opening them up to a new way of looking at things? Do you think the cultural experience goes with them when they leave or is left at the door when the last amp is turned off?
JM: Well, I can’t get these songs out of my head and I imagine that’s gonna be the same for some of the people who come and hear. There’s a real directness and simplicity to the way Madup sings and performs that is unique, and I think that makes an impression. Collaborations definitely create bridges and new ways of thinking both for the people doing them and the audience that experiences it. Hopefully people can hear this mash of ‘60s funk and Sudanese samba reggae (I promise that is how Madup described his style) and say, ‘Hmm that kinda sounds like something I’ve heard before and nothing I’ve heard before’.”
BY KRISSI WEISS
