… to the Territory where so much music and some of our stars – Warren H. Williams and Leah Flanagan – come from, but Buried Country: Live in Concert is delighted to be able to announce we will be playing opening night at the up-coming 2018 Darwin Festival in August.
The show, which is free (!), will be on at the Darwin Amphitheatre on Thursday, August 9, at 7pm. For more details go here or click through the image above.
Buried Country is about to be born again again, with the imminent release of a vinyl LP through a co-pro between Mississippi Records and Flippin’ Yeah Records, the former an amazing archival specialist coming out of Portland, Oregon, the latter the label run by Australia’s own Gympie Songster, Darren Hanlon. Darren has been a friend of Buried Country for a long time, and this album is really his baby, as he has coursed all over Australia in pursuit of producing it, making more friends and connections, as he is wont to do (pictured above with 'Salty', who he met on the trail in the Kimberley just before Xmas, about which you can read a bit here). The album will be released very soon, and it brings so much more to the table, featuring tracks never before re-/released and with lavish packaging including more rare photos, original artworks and extensive liner notes. The tracklisting is as follows (and the test-pressing sounds stunning!):
SIDE ONE 1/ BLACK ALLAN BARKER Take Me Back 2/ GALARRWUY YUNUPINGU Gurindji Blues 3/ WARUMPI BAND Jailanguru Pakarnu 4/ KANKAWA NIAGARA Yanany Baliba 5/ KOORIERS Sick of Being Treated Like a Low-Down Mangy Dog
SIDE TWO 1/ JIMMY LITTLE Give the Coloured Lad a Chance 2/ BROWN BROTHERS Black and White Cat 3/ DOUGIE YOUNG Cut a Rug 4/ MAISIE KELLY My Home in the Valley 5/ COUNTRY OUTCASTS Streets of Old Fitzroy 6/ BOBBY McLEOD The Resurrection
A few years ago, I was asked to write a letter in support of an application for a visa to get into America that was being being made by Buried Country star Roger Knox. Roger had initially been knocked back on the grounds that he was a terrorist, or an artist of insufficient repute for the US to let him in or something like that. Without ever saying, well, he’s a black man, we don’t any more of them than we’ve already got. Anyway thankfully something worked and Roger got his visa and went on to complete his album Stranger in my Country with Jon Langford in Chicago. I’ve just done a similar thing for Roger’s son Buddy, who is a fellow cast member of the Buried Country roadshow, to help push through the general approvals for Buddy and his son Goori to go to the US to compete in the 2018 International Blues Challenge in Memphis in January.
I told whosoever it may concern that I first met Buddy when he was still just a teenager playing guitar in his father Roger’s Euraba Band in the early 1980s, when I was a young music journalist writing about Roger, that I’ve known him for that long, and that I could not vouch more earnestly for him as both a friend and musician. I told them, I can say unequivocably what a fine, fine musician Buddy is, and a complete professional at it, and that it’s a measure of his talent and initiative that he can cross so readily between genres like country and blues the way he goes from Buried Country or the Euraba Band with which he still still plays to this duo with Goori. It is in fact an absolute delight for me to see Buddy continuing his family tradition in music, and for Goori to be doing so well as his partner in this endeavor and gaining so much for the experience. Buddy and Goori will make fine ambassadors for Australia and especially Aboriginal Australia at the challenge in Memphis and though I may not know who their competitors are, I share their confidence that they will give it a real good shake. Go, Buddy, go!
Delighted to be able to announce, just confirmed, the next Buried Country: Live in Concert gig will be at the Tamworth Country Music Festival in January 2018. Co-presented by the Jimmy Little Foundation, Buried Country will appear in concert at the Capitol Theatre in Tammy on Sunday, January 21.
This marks something of a completion of a circle, because it was at Tamworth, during festival time two years ago, that Buried Country had its first rehearsals and played a quiet little showcase performance at Enrec Studios; from which everything we’ve done since has flowed. At that same time in 2016, BC cast-member Franny Peters-Little was unveiling, as you can see here, a bronze bust of her father Jimmy that was added to the Country Music Trail in Tamworth’s Bicentennial Park:
Perhaps it’s opportune to note here now too that in attendance at that Enrec session was Iain Shedden, a long-time supporter and great friend of BC who has sadly just passed away. Sheddy went off and wrote up in his Spin Doctor column in the Australian that our little invite-only event was one of the two best gigs he saw up at Tammy at that time, and we were all grateful for his support – he subsequently afforded us another major feature in the Australian – and we will miss him dearly.
So there are all those good reasons and more that we are so happy to finally be returning to Australia’s home of country music, the ‘more’ being that it is a hometown gig at last for the Knox family members of the show – and that the date is a special milestone birthday for Franny too. The Jimmy Little Foundation is a non-profit organisation that carries on its namesake’s dedication to the improvement of the quality of life and health of Indigenous Australians, and Buried Country is proud that it is proud to be co-presenting our Tammy show. We know that Franny, James Henry and the whole mob will do Jimmy and Marj proud - and we’ll do one for Sheddy too!
It is sad indeed to have to report on the death of James Djagamara Macleod, one of the stars of the Buried Country 1.5 album. That’s James’s voice you hear at the start of the mash-up ‘title sequence’ that opens our every BC: Live in Concert performance. When the time came in 2015 to put together the BC1.5 CD, I was so determined to have a track on it by the sometime band James had with Toby Martin – the Rug Cutters, a sort of tribute band to James’s grandfather, the legendary Dougie Young – they became the only act to purpose-record something for it.
And now I’m even gladder we did that, because not only was it a great thrill for James, but serves as something of a small legacy… we remember James and fondly, and convey all our condolences…
Now, for the real deal, over to Toby Martin, who from his current UK base penned the following testimonial that was read out at James’s funeral in Queanbeyan, and is reproduced here with the kind permission of James’s family:
I first met James in 2011. I had just started a fellowship at the National Library in Canberra where I was researching the music of Aboriginal folk and country artists, including the legendary Dougie Young. I got a phone call from a friend of a friend one day who said, “I’ve got the number of Dougie’s grandson for you!” James and I arranged to meet at a café outside the Eora centre in Redfern, where he was studying. He had a guitar with him and, there and then, at the café, he busted it out of his case and gave me a full-throated rendition of his own songs, as well as his arrangement of his grandfather’s powerful song about black identity ‘The Land Where the Crow Flies Backwards’. It was different from the original version – it was fuller, more strident, more rock, very much done in James’ own style. Inside his guitar case were a few gum leaves that he told me had picked up from a river bank at Michelago a few days beforehand. That was my first introduction to Jimmy: charming, crackling with energy, a bit wild, interested in connections to Country and his people. Utterly and truly himself. It was a first-impression that was to prove consistent throughout the time I knew him. James discovered his Aboriginal family when he was 21. So he was already a musician himself when he found out who his Grandfather was and the respect with which he was held in Aboriginal communities. If it was a coincidence, it was a pretty mystical one. James and I got a country-rock band band together to play Dougie Young’s songs. We called ourselves the Rugcutters, after the famous Dougie Young song ‘Cut A Rug’. James taught us his arrangement of ‘The Crow’. He also did a beautiful, bitter, stripped-down version of ‘Old Wilcannia Town’, and a spoken-word turn on ‘I Don’t Want Your Money’. We played some great gigs that year: at the Block in Redfern with kids down the front and seated Aunties at the back, at the Sandringham Hotel in Newtown where Jeremy Beckett, the anthropologist who originally recorded Young, came up to us and said, “Dougie’s finally got his rock and roll band!”, and at the Canberra Folk Festival to a packed tent of folk afficiandos. People were often struck by the way we had re-interpreted Young’s acoustic songs, and in particular the fresh life James had breathed into his Grandfather’s music. A few days after the folk festival, James and I went into the recording studio at the National Library and laid down about eight Dougie Young songs.
RugCutters live in Wilcannia
We played sporadically over the next few years. Most memorably, we were invited to go and play in Wilcannia, the town in which Dougie Young spentmost of his life and wrote most of his songs about. I remember the thirteen-hour drive west from Sydney, the trees becoming more sparse, the soil turning to red. James was uncharacteristically quiet on that drive, he spent most of the time looking out the window – and I think going to the Country of his Aboriginal family stirred some complicated emotions in him. It was the first time James had spent a significant amount of time in Wilcannia, and while it was an incredible experience for him, he also later described those couple of days to me as “pretty full on”. The gig itself took place in a park on the main intersection of town. Lots of people were there. People who had known Dougie, and people who were descendents of the friends that Dougie wrote about. People who loved the way James was singing his Grandfather’s songs and who were keen to meet him, to hug him and to talk to him. A descendent of one of Dougie’s mates showed us around town. He took us out to the cemetery where we unsuccessfully searched for Young’s grave. “Sorry son,” he said to James, “I really wish I could find it for you.”
Following our Wilcannia tour, the Rugcutters did full-band studio recordings of ‘The Crow’ and ‘Got No Time For Dancin.’ The recording of ‘The Crow’ appeared on the 2015 CD Buried Country 1.5, the re-release of the influential collection of Aboriginal country music put together by Clinton Walker and featuring artists likeRoger Knox, Troy Cassar-Daley and Vic Simms. It was a well-deserved honour for James’ music to feature alongside these singers. James and I alwaystalked about doing more – about doing a whole tribute album to Young, about writing songs together – but musicians talk and dream a lot and act a lot less. Still, I am very proud of what we achieved together and the way in which it got James respect for his own music, and raised the profile of his Grandfather’s amazing legacy.
Through playing music together, James and I became close friends. He made a very big impact on my life – both as a musician and as a person. He made me re-think some of my ideas about music and culture and friendship and identity. I loved him like a brother. Life was not always easy for James. He struggled with some fairly serious health issues and many of the times I hung out with James the surroundings and occasions were not as fun as the ones I have described above. And yet in almost every situation his lust for life and positive spirit shone through. He turned my visit to the psychiatric unit of Goulburn hospital into a lunch date and a tour of the op-shops of town, followed by a jam session in the garden out the back. I left with my spirits raised! James said yes to things. He said yes to forming a band with a complete stranger, he said yes to going to Wilcannia, he said yes to people and to opportunities. His willingness to say yes and worry about consequences later was a trait I greatly admired in him. He was a huge force of positive energy, dreams and enthusiasm. He died too young, but I feel very lucky that he came into my life when he did.
Cartoonist Reg Lynch is a long-time Friend of Buried Country - a long-time friend generally, going all the way back to our hazy crazy drinking days in Darlinghurst and Tamworth in the 80s and 90s - and it was sad to see him leave Sydney to go and live in Tasmania a few years back. But it was great to see him make the effort to come down from his home on the north-western coast of the island state to see our Buried Country show in Hobart recently as part of the Dark Mofo festival. And it was great too when he sent through this artwork below...
... which portrays Franny Peters-Little on stage at the Odeon. It just seems to capture a bit of an essence of Franny, which is part of Reg's great talent as an artist, his ability to do something like that with just a few strokes of line on paper. But as Franny asked, Yeah, but can he play the ukulele?
When Leah Flanagan announced early this year that she was pregnant, we were all not only naturally delighted but hopeful-confident it wouldn’t cause too much disruption to her regular schedule. But when the baby refused to emerge for a few weeks beyond the due date, it was clear the Buried Country show at Dark Mofo in Hobart would have to do without one of its star attractions.
And so, when young Tom Emilio Jones, aka Tuco, was born on Monday, May 29, just days before the Hobart show – and it should go without saying that all our congratulations went and go to Leah, Tom and the little fella; we know they’ll make a great, loving family – we thought the show would have to be dedicated to him… so, this one was for Tuco…
And happily, as the Buried Country mob has made it fairly standard practice, it was a top show.
The festivalisation of culture is a syndrome that seems to enjoy almost universal approbation. But I am surprised there isn’t tad more wariness about it, or concern, like I feel. I mean, it’s state-controlled culture after all, and at worse when, say, in a place like my hometown of Sydney, the grass-roots that was once a thriving live music circuit has effectively been killed off – meaning if nothing else, where do to tomorrow’s festival stars come from? In Hobart, it’s a bit different, because the Dark Mofo festival of which BC was part largely comes down to one man, David Walsh, who’s not a bureaucrat or public servant but rather a wildcat philanthropist who’s almost single-handedly put Hobart on the culture map, and certainly bolstered its tourist trade, with his amazing MONA gallery and all the events that spin off it, like DMFO. Walsh and his empire is not beholden to the corporate-politics that so often stultify festivals. I’d been to MONA on one previous occasion and while there was almost as much art there that I wasn’t fond of as there was that I did like, that’s the point, and what’s great about it.
DMFO was much the same, among the attractions I was able to squeeze in, some fantastic, some less so I thought, but all of them adding up a vibrant variegated whole, which is how it ought to be.
I’d like to think Buried Country was generally one of the highlights. If audience reaction is anything to go by, certainly they seemed to enjoy it. In fact, I don’t think we’ve had a better audience, in terms of foreknowledge. There was a real nice little record shop (remember them?), Music Without Frontiers, virtually next door to the Odeon Theatre, and walking past it on shownight the strains of “Blue Gums Calling Me Back Home” rang out, and that was a lovely little touch that doubly encouraged me to buy a couple of disks (remember that too?). The audience for the show recognised many of the songs and gave them encouragement in anticipation, and responded with terrific applause and, at the end, with a standing ovation. We were all humbled and so, thank you, Hobart. Thank-you too to more than a few friends from Sydney and other parts of Tasmania who made the effort to be at the show, and played a part in its success.
In the absence of the new young mum, we re-shuffled the set slightly. Warren Williams, who opened the show as he usually does and with his usual stirring spirit, is to be doubly commended for pushing through some tragic sorry business back home. Luke Peacock has been enduring some trevails too and apart from wrestling one of our hire cars in an altercation, performed well too. Nobody was going to tackle Leah’s “September Song,” but Franny was game to take on “Brown Skin Baby,” as on offering to Leah, Tom and Tuco, and she pulled it off, again, with customary verve, a bit more country than Leah’s version.
The following morning, a few of the mob went into to the ABC for a session with Radio National’s Books and Arts program, which you can listen to here, and then over the next two nights, a few of ’em played short solo spots at the Winter Feast. For me, I finished my five days with a visit to MONA to see the opening of its latest exhibition, the Museum of Everything, and I was totally blown away by a vast show of outsider art or whatever you call it that I couldn’t see any other state-controlled gallery in the country ever daring to put on. Buried Country is a bit like outsider art too – my favourite kind! – and we will continue in our campaign to storm the citadel.
Buried Country was represented on last weekend’s fiftieth anniversary of the 1967 Referendum that accorded Australian Aboriginal people citizenship in their own country – a weekend when Aboriginal people were making more history with the Uluru conference on constitutional recognition – when I was honoured to be asked to go into ABC Local Radio in Sydney and, with the ABC’s Indigenous Affairs Editor Stan Grant, go on a ‘Sonic Journey’ on Simon Marnie’s morning show through some of the pertinent music of the era. Stan is a long-standing Buried Country fan (“It’s the soundtrack to my life,” he said), and a top fella who really knows his tunes.
Our hour included the unveiling of a recently remastered version (thanks to Darren Hanlon and the guys from Vinyl Frontier) of Jimmy Little’s legendary B-Side from 1958, “Give the Coloured Lad a Chance,” which was written by his father and certainly the first-ever Aboriginal ‘protest’ song committed to wax. Given the nature of the song, the nature of Australian radio back when and the rarity of the record (I’d not even seen a copy until just recently, when Bruce Milne gave me this one; thanks Bruce), it’s possible that this is the first time it’s ever been heard on air, period! If the podcast of Simon's show has already disappeared, you will have to wait to hear it: The track will hopefully be included on a new Buried Country vinyl LP coming out of America soon; but that’s another story I’ll get to in good time…