Issue 10 Volume 1 August 2006
Page 6

Matt Walker and Ashley Davies:
Little big sound

...continued from front page

SG: You can cover a lot more bases…

AD:…Yeah, and you know, making a living out of it, it’d be good to set up something whereby you can go over there and tour and work as well as here. So we did that, we went over there and played and that was really good and then came back and we released the CD here and toured on that for about six weeks in Australia…came back and did a few festivals later that year and then I had a bit of a break, released the ‘Try Harder’ radio single, just because we were going to be doing this tour with Dan Tuffy, from Big Low, which we’ve just finished. So that’s about it, that’s sort of what we’ve been doing over the last 12 months. You know, it’s that thing, mate, you make a CD, put it out, tour, do a few more shows, then you start thinking about…well, me and Matt were talking about the next thing now, the next record and stuff.

SG: What influences you musically, both as a duo and individually?

AD: I mean, I know I couldn’t talk for Matt individually and for me, I listen to everything, mate. Our tastes would be a little bit varied but ... you’ve got the rhythm & blues and the rock’n’ and the roll’n’ and all that sort of stuff but I mean, any sort of music if it gets you in, you know, you’re inspired by that and you can get some ideas from it. I’m always open to anything that I’m hearing, you know? I don’t know too much of the new music that comes in but a lot of my students, every now and then, bring in some CDs of new dudes and it’s just brilliant stuff. I don’t know too much about it or who they are but for me and Matt both, your influences are wide, you know? There’s not a lot of music that I don’t really dig, except for that crazy grunge stuff and I think that’s more because of the vocals. Do you know what I mean? That really weird…I don’t know what they call that vocal…you know the vocal I’m talking about?

SG: Is that the new grunge stuff or the 90s stuff?

AD: It’s just that weird vocal idea where they put it through something, it’s like a monster.

SG: Like they’re speaking through a loudhailer?

AD: Yeah man, it’s like a monster singing. You’d know it as soon as you hear it. That’s the only gear I can’t get into and I think it’s just because of the vocal. I can’t listen to it. So that’s where it ends but you know, even within that music, without the vocal, there’s stuff about those players and those drummers, you know, from a drumming point of view you can see there’s something there. …Anything, groove, rhythm, but then you find that in anything I reckon.

SG: Anything with passion.

AD: Yeah mate! Well that’s basically it, isn’t it? Those elements of emotion and passion and groove and rhythm, which you’ll find in symphonies or you’ll hear even in a guy playing one string. I mean, ‘Morphine’; that guy played a two-string bass yet the grooves coming out of that band are crazy.

SG: As a drummer, how different is it for you with the duo, playing without a bass player? Do you find it gives you more freedom?

AD: Oh yeah, totally. Yeah and I love that about the duo, in that, from a drumming point of view you’ve got a lot of freedom. There aren’t really too many rules with me and Matt and that goes for each of us. We pretty much do what we want to do and what we’re feeling musically, unless one of us is really out of line with the other, then someone will say something but usually we’re pretty connected and it works but from a rhythm sense, it’s good because not having the bass, you can get a bit off those traditional style grooves of snare, hi-hat, kick, which is what I’m into too but with the duo you can definitely work the drumkit a bit more, explore the kit, with noises and sounds, you know, and work on some grooves in a different way.

SG: I know what you’re saying. I guess, as part of a bigger band, the drummer has to be really solid and everything has to be right on but with a duo, obviously you both have to play in time but I would have thought that the drummer would have to anchor everything down a bit more, given that there’s no bass.

AD: Oh yeah, well there is a bit but I think every now and then, depending on what we’re both doing, we both anchor it down. Do you know what I mean? And that thing with feeling time, you know, moving it back and pushing it forward and stuff like that. Every now and then I suppose the drums are always gonna have to lock it down more than anything else does, you know, if it’s sometimes going somewhere, like if Matt’s working it a bit then there is a point where you hold it down a little bit but it’s more for him. Do you know what I mean? Not that he’s doing anything wrong; it’s just that backbone thing. In saying that, I love that freedom in the duo but I love rhythm.
I do a few fill-ins and I love that drumming where you don’t do anything except sit on the groove. I think, again, those elements of rhythm and groove and emotion are really important in the duo, it’s just that different angle again because even though you might be going about the rhythms on the drums a little bit differently than maybe what Matt’s doing, you’re always trying to nail something that, rhythmically, is really working.
But it’s good to drum in the duo because you can get a bit crazy. I remember reading about ‘The Rolling Stones’, during their gig, they had structure to their set and their songs because they had the light show and all of that but the lighting tech and the sound guy said that in some of ‘The Stones’ songs and throughout their set there’s always room for them to move because they’ve gotta have that; if, on the night, something happens and that’s a really good element to have, you know?

SG: I can’t imagine The Stones being together for 40 or 50 years if they had to play the same way every night.

AD: Exactly. Take those classics Midnight Rambler or Sympathy for the Devil or something like that. It’s like our gig at The Retreat where they got up and danced, you know, just that room for anything to happen.

SG: Do you prefer playing with a bass player or without?

AD: Um, I like ‘em both, mate. I love playing with a bass player. I do, because it comes down to just music. In the end it just comes down to whatever you’re playing, whether it be the duo or some of these R ‘n B gigs I’m doing with your typical bass, drums, saxophone, guitar, singer, sometimes piano, and I just love it. I love it and, again, it’s all back to just really hitting the groove. Yeah, so it doesn’t matter who I’m playing with. I love the freedom in the duo because it doesn’t have a bass player but then I really dig not having as much freedom in some of those other more traditional combos because then you just want to nail it in another way. Yeah.

SG: You released this album about a year ago. Are you planning another album soon?

AD: Yeah, we were talking about it yesterday when we were driving. It’s sort of like, you get a year to a year-and-a-half out of it. Now, it won’t happen in the next six months but we’ll start planning for it. We’re thinking we’ll most probably use the same engineer that we’ve used for the last two records - he’s really good for the duo - then we’ll start writing and thinking what the character of the record will be. I mean, obviously it’ll be pretty much around the same lines as the last one but you always want to do something a little bit different with it. So yeah, we’ll start thinking about some songs and how we’re gonna do it, where we’re gonna do it. We might do it a bit differently; we might hire a room this time and bring gear in. I think this time we’ll work with the engineer a lot more.

SG: In a producer role?

AD: Well, I don’t know. I mean, I really like producing the duo - with Matt – because we sort of know what it’s about a bit. Admittedly, that first duo record has another producer on it but I mean, really, he just stuck is in a room and we did what we wanted to do, because we know what we’re about and how we wanna get [the sound]. Soul Witness was different because we had a couple of other musos but, with the duo, we sort of know what we’re after and what we’re trying to get, unless we went for something specific. I don’t know if we would but if we wanted to do a pop record with the duo, I think then we would be like, “oh, alright, let’s get some dude in,” but for now, we’re pretty fine with just doing it ourselves.
I think with this one, Lawrence Maddy’s a really good engineer and he has produced and maybe what could make this one a little bit different is if he did co-produce with us. Usually me and Matt pretty much hold the reigns in a number of respects with arrangements, ideas, and all that sort of stuff. We’ve never really had someone come in and try this, this, and this. Every now and then ideas come in but maybe the next one could be. I don’t know. Maybe it wouldn’t be with Lawrence but maybe the next engineer could be a bit of a co-producer, but it would depend on where they’re at and what sort of ideas they’ve had previously and whether we’re into ‘em…and whether we thought they might fit with what we’re after.

For more on Matt Walker and Ashley Davies, see our review of their show.

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Gray on Browne II: We are not a groupie!

...continued from front page

But how long is this long? Is midnight (nearly last trains in Melbourne) long enough -- or just a sign of insincerity? A sign that in the contest to prove your fandom, you really don't cut the mustard?

Is 1am too long, intruding not only on the baby-sitter at home but on your ability to industriously make a world a better place the following day? Is 2am simply silly: or it is merely the first sign that you seriously mean what you're about?

Who cares? The night of Jackson Browne's single Melbourne performance at Hamer Hall, we waited till the final train -- and that was a little too long for me.

My beloved -- not Jackson, but my wife -- probably felt differently about the wait. But I hadn't had my dinner, and the fruit-bar she offered me for compensation 30 minutes or so into our vigil had a strangely plastic taste: an omen, for me, that stage-door fandom wouldn't be the authentic experience it is for some.

Perhaps this means I am not a fan. But I am married to one, and when you look at other examples of group enthusiasm in our world today -- the soccer celebrations when Australia beat Japan in the World Cup, for example -- then what you see is a whole lot of people married to each other.

By that, I mean that few people go to such celebrations alone. We tend to go in groups, not because each one of us is equally on fire about the event we're going to, but simply because we like to be in groups. Then when Tim Cahill scores, we might just hug a stranger -- but we're more likely to hug a friend. I got plenty of hugs after the night of the Jackson Browne concert. So consider me a fan.


Luis Conte

In truth, there was ample to be enthusiastic about. Browne performed with percussionist Luis Conte, and another fellow, and wore what I would describe as Californian trousers -- effusively patterned, smart, casual and the sort I'd never be seen dead in. He joked with his fellow-performers, remembered the words to his own songs, and performed an impressive song-list of 20 or so numbers, including most of the favourites.


David Lindley

But for my money, and the night cost plenty, the highlight was the other fellow on stage, David Lindley. If Browne dressed Californian, Lindley's short alone was positively futuristic. His musicianship, for me, was the engine of the act, from the rhythms on his middle eastern oude, to the melodies on his violin, to the leading notes of his many different solo guitars.

Most of the songs were Jackson Browne's, but when Lindley led the ensemble on his own song El Rayo X, the evening was transformed. The tempo, the instrumental felicity and even the lyrical humour, in this song about a car, all ratcheted up instantly.

Then it was back to Jackson, and for me, the plastic fruit bar was never too far off. But there was no doubt about it, I was among fans.

There were interjectors, mostly male. "The Eagles have got all the money but you've got all the talent, Jackson," cried one. "Thanks for coming down here, we really love you guys!" added another.

And there were women. They were quieter, hanging on every word, and even more so on every smile from Browne's strangely young face. But everywhere I could see, the essential theme was the same: enthusiasm.

What is the source of this? I've written before about Browne's lyrical qualities: the capacity for writing lengthy excursions into the heart of relationships, in a way that speaks profoundly to women, in particular, and with barely a forced rhyme in the process, which impresses me amazingly. But what brings so many people together, real fans, some of them determined to sit out the night, if need be, to gain that added degree of direct touch with a man they idolise, but don't really know?

I can only guess, but I guess it's the wish for a sense of connection that is somehow missing from everyday life. Browne supplies this, as others supply it for different fans. What we see at a concert on this scale -- or by a performer of Browne's fame -- is more than just a sensory event that deals in the sights and sounds of music. It's something social.

My conclusion is that to the extent that it's musical, it's good. And this was a very musical night. But to the extent that it's about something else, it worries me a bit.

When we finally called it a night at the backstage door, and headed for the last train home, one of the die-hards who was hanging on gave us a sneering farewell. Maybe she thought we weren't real fans. Or maybe she thought, with smaller numbers waiting, there'd be all the more Jackson for her. Either way, this had somehow ceased to be about art. I think we were both glad to leave.

What made the stage-door vigil even harder was that I knew that on the digicam in my pocket I had an image worth its weight in Scriptural pearls. David Lindley had appeared in the foyer straight after the show, signing autographs and chatting to the fans. He signed a CD for us, and I asked him would he pose for a photo with my wife. He was most obliging. We had the picture blown up for a 12 x 8 inch frame. Along with the family portraits, it's a treasure for a lifetime. Already I'm rehearsing the line: "Oh yes, and there's the one of you with David Lindley."

My wife, though, still hoped to meet Jackson Browne. It didn't happen. I cannot enter into her disappointment, but I know it's real. Not that she complains. We got to sit third row from the front, on a memorable night of musical transportation. As she says, this is something to be grateful for.

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