Stormcellar Band Home Page

Howdy Folks.

We've been Mucho Busy off-line, with the DC Bellamy tour coming in in June and work on our 3rd US tour and finishing tracks for the EFLH project.

Nonetheless it falls to me each time we have a show, to put out the little electronic posters. I've recently begun to take exception with one of the main social media platforms and their increasing limitation on the spread of our posts.

Facebook is not the web, we forget that. 

I live on a really really big island (citation required on the island-or-continent part) and when your country has as large a landmass as ours, you could be forgiven for thinking it the whole world.

I remember the story of some convict escapees who expected to find China on the other side of what's now the Hawkesbury river. This is a big place.

To all intents and purposes, what we see around us is the whole world. But we also know there's more to it - intellectually at least

I've been a web nerd since dialup (cheers Dad) so I can claim 'Original Geekster' status. Websites are still BBS's with pictures (yeah I know, Bulletin Board Services, look it up), and, they rise, and they fall.

I feel like the corporate entities that want to replace the Old Media are still infected with a common, walled garden, world view.

Facebook is not the internet anymore than Australia is The World. But if you live there, you might never think beyond it.

The 'mainstream' has been replaced by the Multistream (tm, copyright clever clogs MJEB here) - instead of standing around the watercooler talking about one tv show, we've all gotten back from holidays to our own little island state where the TV programming/Zeitgeist was slightly different.

Redditors/Tumblrs and 4Channers are NOT the same as Facebookers, even though you might have 2 accounts :-) It's different politics, language, culture.

To enter the 'mainstream', to be the talk of the watercooler, you have to do something that both transcends these tribal boundaries, can penetrate the culture AND has access to the information.

When facebook imposes a Post Tax, a Communication Tax, in a system that by its nature is about the free expression and transmission of ideas and their accessibility by multiple paths, well, it pisses me off.

Am I more pissed because they have withdrawn a 'privilege' we had when we first began using their site and that we employ for a commercial purpose, so why can't they?

Sure, I'll buy that, but I can acknowledge that and still be right about them being assholes for doing it.

The concept that our posts will be restricted from being seen by people who have already indicated their interest in what we're doing isn't imposing a fair commercial advertising right, it's restraint of trade, restraint of communication.

If they want to charge me to reach new people, sure, I'll pay. it's commerce. right? But charging me to reach my 'friends' is wrong and hopefully lethal - why, because it's already diminished my interaction with their site, reduced my interest in advertising and increased my intent to find an alternative.

I get that they have a commercial consideration, but Frick it, so does fricking Craigslist, and they enable commerce in an earth changing way without excessive Bastardy.

Yeah I'm steamed about this. I'm steamed about investing time and effort into establishing a presence in someone else's walled garden and then have a change of regime that makes it look more like a Trap than a website.

It's predatory and even better it's evolutionarily fricken doomed. Social Media is a function, it's not a website. It can be replaced by a client side app just like a torrent that allows you to connect to any other user without the strictures of an imperial tax collector.

There I've had my rant.

I accept that the fall of the empire might take time, but i'm sure it will occur before the Earth plunges into the sun. Give me my Jedi Training Kit, I'm off to join the Rebels.

Howdy Folks. Wow that's two great weekend drives in a row. 

It really is all about the journey. I mean, I am writing a retrospective for a new bio at the moment and it's got me thinking...but I digress.

What we've done isn't as relevant to me as what we're doing. That's mighty Zen. Kind of.

And what better place to meditate than...traffic.

SO it's Easter weekend in Sydney and according to the papers, the camping spots outside in the national parks are overflowing with families escaping the city.

With Friday and Saturday of the long weekend proving Wet and Rainy, Sunday brought us the Resurrection of the sun (LOL, 10 points for religious inclusion, see what I did there, I referenced..oh never mind. Being clever is highly overrated anyway).

Where was I?

Oh yeah. Rosie, me, Ulumpty-leven Guitars and a virtually unpackable guitar stand, sitting in traffic with Everyone In Sydney who woke up and found Sunday sunny and clear and wonderful for a drive up the coast.

Jedi Level patience required.

Finally, as you cut the Gordian knot of the Pacific Highway, Freedom.

Aah. So relaxing.

We stopped at a Unnamed Service Station and I tried my luck with the Coffee Robot.

Fail.

The robot and I disagreed about  the colour coffee should be. I favour black as a starting point. The coffee robot thought that clear boiling water was a better option.

Machines are rising against us people, you've been warned!

After I lured it into a smelting compressor and dispatched Skynet back to Barista school we resumed our drive. Me with an oversweet milky warm brownness and Rosie with a pale grey beverage. At least I remembered to double cup it.

Rosie made me take this pic cos Bills brothers nick name is...

Cheers Max if you're reading.

Meanwhile, Rosie and I continued our discussion of Film Soundtracks and overly long instrumentals, favouring On Every Street by Dire Straits with a listen. Plus a bunch of Tinariwen, some Jezabels and Miles Davis.

 That's right folks, I am extolling the virtues of hitting the highway, yakking and listening to sounds, whilst bitching about the coffee robot. Such are the things life is made of.

Bad robot.

Speaking of bad robots, we had a Organic Processor Failure and took a wrong turn. Nuff said. We course corrected and bolted for the coast. 

And how was the scenery?  

This was taken by me, from the carpark across the road from the pub. This place is lovely. Bummer it's about get get another 1200 homes...

 Music-wise, we had an outstanding time. We wisely opted for the Gentle set to start with and once again, found that we have rather a....wide demographic appeal.

I did point out to the Various Parents that Stormcellar CD's make excellent child minding tools and that they should buy some.

I'm also aware that we may have been involved (peripherally, acoustically) in the Creation Of Children and we accept the thanks of Humankind for our part in continuing the species

Having Jo join us always makes for a good show.

Thanks to Jackson for bringing me that jug of water, that was very thoughtful, and a shout out to Natasha, Lincoln, Jordan and josh. 

It turns out we have what they call 'a following' up there :-) So many familiar faces that danced and sang along because they knew the words. Wow. Cheers to Steve and Rowena, Steve, Steve (sound was great) and...err..Harvey!

Now I am careful to remember that What Happens On Stage, stays on stage.

Ok, except for this moment.

At one point during the show a...well..a...farty smell wafted across stage. Fair enough, we're all human says me. 

As a player of a Woodwind instrument, Breathing In is Very Important.

On first waft I looked around to see who I should steer clear of. No one else seemed to notice. No guilty smiles. Ok.  An SBD eh? Right.

Mid way through the harp/guitar interchange during Same Old Blues I caught a right old facefull of it. Now you can see my dilemma. As part of playing the harmonica, you are required to Breathe In.

I felt like a ship trapped in the gales of the Roaring Farties and I was bouncing around looking for a place to evade the Olfactory Assault, as each breath-in to make a note was accompanied by NASTY NASTY NASTY.

I turned to Rosie and in a language spoken only by Musicians in mid song, using facial gestures, eye/eyebrow movements and my coloration, choked out 'WTF IS THAT SMELL'

Rosie very helpfully blamed Mr Wizard.

Meanwhile, it was time for me to play another note.

Another Draw note.

Yep. Breathe in.

NASTY NASTY NASTY OMG.

I almost choked, Rosie almost lost it laughing, Jo ditto and the other boys were wondering what the heck was going on.

Now before I go any further I should explain that the culprit was the Environmentally Friendly Septic system occasional burping out a little tainted methane which 'ocassionally' wafted across the stage.

I unreservedly withdraw any aspersions I may have cast about my bandmates digestive systems and my 'for the love of god, eat a piece of fruit' comment I may or may not have made.

As my head cleared, I noticed that evening had fallen and we finished our set and bade a fond farewell to the Catho.

So to recap, we drove up the coast on a gorgeous day, to a pretty place, played to a full house of enthusiastic folks, played tolerably well (we had fun) and then drove home, stopping at an overpriced organic cafe with better coffee to talk trash about world affairs.

What a result.

Happy Easter!

Howdy!

I had a rare and distinct pleasure the other night – I was catching up with some old friends who have a pair of sons who are both complete characters at the grand ol’ ages of 6 & 8. They are also young men of discerning taste. By “discerning taste” I mean “like our music”. Apparently their parents do, too. But not quite in the same level of enthusiasm as their offspring who like to sing a long at the top of their lungs. This is what we like to hear! We were driving home and I was treated to this phenomenon and revelled in every second of it … hey – we gets it where we can. I particularly enjoyed the moment where, as father dearest turned the volume down on the solo (who does that!?) the young’uns’ response was a chorus of “Ohhhhh daa-a-a-ad” … which is what I say to the engineers when we’re mixing.

Oh – and the song? … Gimme Something I Want … and the chorus in question?

“If you can’t give me something I want, gimme something I need”.

I’ve never asked MJEB what the song is about … for me it’s always been about cake.

Stuey & Rory – you rock!

Great moments in history … part the ‘nth.

Rosie!