"Wireless shatters, speakers blow
The place is out, the powers down
But no matter how bad it becomes
I will charge you with my stereophonic sound..."
1.01
In 1991 I began an Associate Diploma in Computing Applications at the University of Wollongong. I had wished to study a degree in Fine Arts but thought I would never earn money making art. Computers after all were the future and a sure-fire way to make some easy cash.
What I hadn't taken into account was my total lack of interest in DOS, logic systems or anything to do with a computer. I failed my entire first year, succeeding only in drinking heavily at the uni bar. It was humiliating, but I did not know what else to do with my life so I went back the following year to give it another go.
It was not long after the first semester began in 1992 that I saw what I thought would be my saving grace, a poster advertising the University Battle of the Bands. I'd always wanted to be a rock star and this would be my big chance to escape uni woes, make some quick cash, and live the high life.
That afternoon I phoned my good friend Paul Lopes. He and I had grown up together, learning the organ at the same time, and then went on to take up guitar at around the same time. It was a friendly musical rivalry where we traded riffs and ideas. He helped me become a better musician.
"Hello Mrs Lopes, it's Adam, can I talk to Paul please...," I inquired, "Thanks."
...
"Adam?" Paul asked.
"Yeah, hi mate... I've got an idea, let's head down to Figgie Pub for a schooie so I can tell you about it."
"Give me twenty minutes and I'll come round."
Paul picked me up in his Camry and together we headed to Figtree Pub. It was a 5-10-minute trip - we drove down Bellevue Rd, sat at the lights across from Crinis Fruit & Veg before turning right onto the Princes Highway, passing Westfield Figtree and then entered the pub's car park. All the while my mind was busy figuring out how I would ask my best mate (who was a better guitarist than myself) to take up bass for a three-piece band that didn't yet exist but was sure to win the Battle of the Bands.
"So, what's your idea?" Paul asked as he turned off the ignition.
"Wait until I buy you a beer, then I'll spring it on you," I said.
We walked into the pub, Paul sat at a table near the card machines and I went to the bar and bought a couple a schooners of Tooheys New. I walked back to the table and gave Paul his beer.
"I want to get a band together for the Uni Battle of the Bands and I need you to play bass," I politely demanded.
"Ah... bass isn't really my thing Adam, can you find someone else?" Paul asked.
"No, can't do it without you."
We paused and drunk our beer, Paul lit a Winnie Blue, I lit a Winnie Gold. We caught up on a few other issues. But I was relentless, he had to play in the band. And then he sighed: "Look, I'll do it if there is absolutely no chance that you can find someone else."
"Paul, there is absolutely no chance, no one else can do it."
And so it was, I had a bass player for the band, all I had to do now was to find a drummer and write a bunch of songs.
1.02
Sometimes there are gaps in your memory, for whatever reason, where events during that time are deleted so you have to invent memories to fill those gaps. I really don't know how Kane Goodwin, one of the most talented drummers in Wollongong, starting playing in my new band.
What I do know is that Eamonn Byrne was a great football player. I'd played rugby league against him every winter when in primary school. Our school names were quite unfortunate when applied to the footy ground: Little Flower was my team and Fairy Meadow his. We would play one another year in, year out. And they beat us year in, year out. Eamonn was one of their main stars, him and a kid named Adam Sergeant-Wilson who's hyphenated last name alone was enough to intimidate me. I became mates with Eamonn at Edmund Rice College, an all-boys Catholic high school we both attended, and there I guess lies the link to Kane, as Eamonn was his cousin.
So, I'm guessing that word got out that we needed a drummer, Eamonn heard about this and told his cousin. I sort of remember meeting up with Kane at uni one day and organising a jam... I'm not sure, but that hazy (perhaps invented) memory will do for now until someone corrects me with some more reliable facts.
So, we had a band. All we needed now were some songs. I started spending all my uni time writing lyrics or 'researching ideas' for songs at the uni bar. One day I found a book of Cole Porter tunes in the uni library. There was a song in there called 'Stereophonic Sound' with lyrics that amused me at the time. I went home and wrote a song using the same title with power chords on my Gibson-Byrdland-copy-Ibanez-Artist-Series-semi-acoustic-electric guitar and a Boss Turbo Distortion pedal. That's how I wrote all my songs back then. Two fingered riffs taped on a little red National tape recorder that would be rearranged until I had the ingredients for a song. Another day I was feeling out of place (as usual) and wanted to escape so I went home and wrote the song 'What am I Doing Here?' about the experience. 'Teenage Sex' was written with the reasoning that if I put 'teenage' and 'sex' together in a song that it was sure to be hit, or at least annoy some people. Other songs like 'Shit' used words in my everyday vocabulary to describe addiction and drugs... 'Black Light' was inspired by the blue light that the stereo in my bedroom gave off. 'The Function' (later to become 'What's the Function of Lisa Johnson?') was written in one sitting and gave me delight when singing its lyrics - "My erection... menstruation... copulation... what's the function?" I felt very cutting edge.
In two to three weeks we had a set of 12 songs (I think) that also consisted of a few covers: Mudhoney's 'In and Out of Grace' and 'Touch Me I'm Sick,' and The Stooges 'I Wanna Be Your Dog.'
Jamming with Paul and Kane felt easy. Kane would make my simple distorted riffs more complex and interesting, and Paul would deliver great lines and backing on bass. In fact, once the band had been playing for a few months it was almost as if we didn't need to jam, I just enjoyed playing that much that I'd force them to turn up week after week to practice.
But there was still a problem, we didn't have a name. This was to be soon solved by Kane's younger brother Saul. One afternoon whilst getting ready to jam at Kane's house he came into the room as we were brainstorming possible band names.
"What about Boys on Bex?" he suggested.
We laughed, so it passed as a name. Boys on Bex it was. We had a dozen fast and distorted songs and we had a name. We were now ready for the Battle of the Bands.
1.03
It was a Thursday night in March, 1992, the night of the University Battle of the Bands. I'd been nervous all afternoon and had developed a cold with a sore throat a few days before. My singing was going to be a bit rough. I wasn't exactly sure what I needed for the gig so I rang Paul.
"Hello Mrs. Lopes, it's Adam, could I speak to Paul please?" I asked, "...Thanks."
...
"G'day mate, are you nervous or what?" Paul asked.
"Yeah, something shocking. Hey, should I take a spare guitar lead just in case anything goes wrong with one our leads?"
"...ah, we should be right mate, we haven't had any probs so far," Paul reassured me.
"So, you reckon I don't need another lead?"
"Nah," he replied.
"Okay, I'll take one anyway, are you still right to come and get me at seven?"
"Yeah, no worries."
"Okay, see you then."
It was time to pack. I checked that my amp was right to go. I'd only owned it a couple of weeks, had purchased it from one of Kane's mates, Mick Lawler. I knew nothing about amps, all I knew was that I wanted a loud one and Mick had reassured me it was loud. It was a 100-watt Peavey Renown with about twenty dials on it which I didn't know how to use. I had accidentally found one clean sounding setting that worked well with my guitar and distortion pedal, so I marked where each dial pointed with liquid paper - I didn't want to be overwhelmed by a horrid sounding amp each time I set up should the dials move out of place.
So, my amp was all good, next I tuned my guitar and then put it away in its hard case. I gathered my leads, pedal, several picks, spare strings, guitar tuner and lyric book on my bed. I hadn't yet learned all the words to my songs so I printed the lyrics out in a book to read from it while we played. All I needed now was something to put all my gear in.
"Adam, what are you doing in my room?" mum yelled from the kitchen.
"Uh, nothing... just looking at myself in the mirror," I lied.
Mum's room had the only full-length mirror in our house so it was a plausible lie.
After searching the house top to bottom, all I could find that was suitable for my gear was a blue Max Factor makeup bag in mum's room. It had the exact dimensions I needed. I emptied its contents onto the floor and took it back to my room before carefully placing my leads, pedal, several spare picks, spare strings, a guitar tuner and songbook inside and then zipped it up.
I then went out to the family room to lay on the couch and watch Doctor Who while I waited for Paul to turn up. I got up several times to check inside the makeup bag to see if all my gear was still there. I re-checked the amp settings, making sure the liquid paper hadn't somehow come off. I also re-tuned and checked my guitar several times.
...6:57pm...
There was a beep out the front of my house and a white Camry sedan idling, waiting for me. I sprung off the lounge, braced myself as I lifted the amp and headed down to the street to Paul, who was opening the boot of his car.
"Hey mate," I said.
"Hey matey," he replied.
I went back inside to get my guitar and makeup bag, checking it first to see that all its contents were still intact. Picking them up I rushed out the door.
"See ya mum," I yelled and ran out.
We found space in the gear-crowded car for one more instrument and my newly acquired gig bag.
"Have you got a spare durry?" I asked Paul.
"Yeah mate, they're in the console."
"Cheers big ears," I joked.
"Same goes big nose." he replied.
We drove out of my street and off to our first gig.
1.04
Paul and I drove into the University of Wollongong car park and headed through to a special area that Don Beale, the Uni Bar manager, had told me about a few days before. We were already feeling special, we were allowed to load our gear in from a usually restricted area.
As we pulled up Kane was coming out of the bar to pick up what was left of his drum kit, he'd already lugged most of it in and was looking surprisingly cool about the whole situation.
"Kane! We're over here!" I yelled excitedly at our drummer, who was already aware of our presence.
"Hey guys, all psyched for a big one?" Kane asked.
"I'm shitting myself," Paul joked.
"I was doing alright until you said that," I laughed to Paul.
"Where do we take all our gear?" I asked.
"Follow me."
We followed Kane backstage and after several trips we had unloaded our gear. By the time we had settled and caught up on some much-needed band strategy over a beer or two it was 8pm, the time for the band playing order to be pulled out of a hat.
"Okay everyone, can I have your attention?" Don Beale announced from the stage, "I'm going to draw out the band order and playing times. We have six bands tonight... (sorry I can't remember their names) ... and Boys on Bex."
"First we have (don't know) at 9pm."
"Second, (not sure) at 9:30pm."
"Third, Boys on Bex at 10pm." etc.
Okay, I thought to myself, that's not bad, at least we didn't draw first, the crowd will be warmed up by the time we go on. Now all I had to do was find a toilet. I was so nervous that I didn't know if I had to urinate, shit or vomit, or all at the same time.
After dealing with my nerves I went into a sort of mode where although there were bands playing, lights flashing, friends talking, and fine uni women, I didn't quite take any of it in. I was focused on 10pm.
"Paul," I yelled over the top of the music.
"What?" he replied.
"How you feeling?"
He gave me a look. Yeah, we felt the same. Kane however came across as a well-seasoned professional and was taking it in his stride.
The first two bands played, I secretly hoped they would be bad, or at least each would make some kind of detrimental mistake that would somehow help us win by default. We drunk a few schooies, all my school mates were there, it was great, it was a big night out and before I knew it, it was our nearly our time to play. I scrambled around backstage to pick up my gear as the second band finished.
"You guys were great," I said to a guitarist as we passed on the stairs leading up to the stage.
I plugged in my amp, plugged my guitar into my distortion pedal and plugged the distortion pedal into the amp. And then it struck me. I'd never played through my amplifier in an auditorium like this before. How loud should I turn it up? I started to panic and looked out to my friends... they couldn't help me. Shit! And then I saw Mick Lawler, the guy who'd sold me the amp.
"Mick!" I yelled across the hall, but he didn't hear me.
"MICK!" I yelled again, leaning off the stage in an attempt to get closer to him.
"Huh?" he turned to me and replied.
He walked over to the front of the stage.
"How loud do I turn the amp up?" I queried.
"As loud as you want."
"I don't know how loud I want it!"
Mick jumped up on to the stage and set the volume to what he thought was right. That made me happy. I was ready to go. I looked over my left shoulder and saw that Paul and Kane were both ready as well. Don Beale walked up to the microphone and announced:
"Okay everyone, next up we have a three-piece, Boys on Bex. Good luck fellas."
Don Beale made his way off stage. Kane looked at Paul, Paul looked at me, and I glanced back to Kane as he hit his sticks together:
"One, two, three, four."
And we launched into our first song for The University of Wollongong Battle of the Bands.
1.05
I hit the E power chord, Paul lashed his hair with a jolt, Kane smashed both of his crash cymbals and I leapt on my distortion pedal, switching it off. We had just completed our first song, an instrumental, all 52 seconds of it, at the University of Wollongong Battle of the Bands 1992. The crowd cheered and applauded. 'They like it,' I thought to myself.
As if synchronized, we all leant down to scull our beer before looking to each other with a smile. This was something we could quite easily get used to. I looked to the floor where my lyric book and set list was. The set list read:
----------------------------------------
1. Bang
2. Shit
3. Touch Me I'm Sick
4. Teenage Sex
5. Who Knows?
6. The Function
7. Stereophonic Sound
8. I Wanna Be Your Dog
9. No Sense at All
10. In 'n' Out of Grace
11. What am I Doing Here?
---------------------------------------
-------------ENCORE-------------
12. Bang
---------------------------------------
I opened the book to 'Shit' as Paul started to play the songs bass introduction and we charged into another original. The reaction to each song was great. I was amazed. I looked out to the crowd to see my mates but was too overwhelmed to see a face. It was all a blur.
Each song felt like I was musically gripping on for dear life, just barely keeping up with Kane's relentless drumming and Paul's driving bass lines. All I could do was either stare at the lyrics or stare at my guitar neck where my fingers were frantically attempting to stay between the frets, whilst I tried to belt the words out over the top of the controlled racket we were generating. When I'd remember, I'd shake my head around or tap my foot. In-between songs there was loud applause and then total quiet whilst we downed our beers in unison.
We were all playing well and before I knew it, we were halfway through our songs... then three quarters of the way through. It looked like we were going to survive without any major catastrophes.
And then in a flash, it was all over. I hit the E power chord, Paul lashed his hair with a jolt, Kane smashed both of his crash cymbals and I leapt on my distortion pedal, switching it off. We had just completed our last song, an instrumental, the same song that we had also started the set with, all 52 seconds of it. The crowd cheered and applauded.
I looked around to the other guys, they seemed happy. I quickly tried to pack my gear up to make room for the next band. I wanted to look professional.
"I don't know what you guys think, but I thought that was choice!" I announced to Paul and Kane as I sorted through my makeup bag.
"Yeah it was great," said Kane.
"Unreal," confirmed Paul.
"Do you think we've got a chance of winning?" I asked.
It was then that I was approached by someone whom I initially thought to be a new-found fan:
"Hi, that was great man, you guys are going to win." he said to me as he shook my hand.
"Nah...," I replied, "Thanks."
"My name is Anthony, I play in a band called Pan's Daughter, I'm also one of the judges tonight," he said as I suddenly felt a tsunami of nerves rising in my stomach.
'This guy has influence, stay calm, act cool,' I told myself.
"Where are you guys from? How long have you been playing for?" he asked.
It was then, overwhelmed by the stranger’s positive response, that I unwittingly hit the 'Arrogant and Smug' button. A button, or should I say switch, that has long haunted me in my creative endeavors. Sometimes it even gets jammed on for long periods without me realising.
"Hey man, yeah... we've only been playing a couple of weeks, I wrote all the songs pretty easily, you know... I was reading the lyrics from the book on the stage because I don't yet know all the words..." I blabbered.
I watched his expression change from that of interest to irritation in a very short space of time. He wished me luck and returned to the bar.
I finished packing up and went out to the bar to get drunk with my band mates and school friends, and we waited for the next band to play. We had done our best, we were now at the mercy of the judges.
1.06
The Battle of the Bands was drawing to a close. The last band had just finished and the judges were tallying up the scores. I had a strong feeling we were going to win. This feeling was backed up by my fellow band members and supportive friends.
I watched Don Beale slowly climb the stairs and make his way to the microphone.
"Thanks for coming out tonight," Don Beale said, "Thank you to each band on the bill, we haven't seen a standard this high in all our years of running the competition. Now, to the placings: In third position we have (sorry, I can't remember.)"
There was applause as the lead singer made his way to the stage and shook Don Beale's hand whilst taking a white envelope. He raised his fist and punched the sky before turning and exiting stage right.
"In second position, a fantastic band, ."
Another singer approached the stage, this time doing some weird kind of vibrating and swaying dance with his upper body only, while the crowd applauded. He high-fived Don Beale before taking his white envelope and then skipped off the stage making barking noises, just like a dog.
His friends in the crowd laughed and yelled his name, "Go (someone)! go (someone)!" some of them even replying to him with their own dog yelps and barking noises.
"Oh, shit," I said to Paul, "We've either won or not placed at all."
"The winners of tonight's University of Wollongong's Battle of the Bands are..." Don Beale announced. The crowd was quiet with anticipation. Paul, Kane and myself were all trying to act cool as if we didn't mind either way what the outcome was.
"The winners are... Boys on Bex!" Don Beale yelled.
The crowd went absolutely wild and started chanting 'Boys on Bex, Boys on Bex ...' I shook hands with Kane, forehead slapped Paul, and headed up to get our white envelope, trying to act cool all the way. When I reached Don Beale, he spoke to me over the microphone:
"Congratulations Boy's on Bex. I must say that you are the most raw, original and exciting act that we have ever seen grace the Uni Bar stage. I have one of my personal friends, Richard Kingsmill from Triple J, waiting to talk to you all backstage right now about airplay and recording. We are also setting you up an interview with Molly Meldrum on next week’s Hey, Hey, It's Saturday..."
Wait...
I can't go on any further with this lie.
Would you like to know what really happened?
Where we really placed?
Okay... well, I'll have to slightly rewind proceedings.
Where should I re-start the story from?
I know, from here:
I watched Don Beale as he slowly climbed the stairs and made his way to the microphone.
"Thanks for coming out tonight," Don Beale said and he continued with his speech. His lips were moving and sound was coming out of his mouth but I wasn't listening. I was dreaming. And the volume of my rock star dream was turned all the way up to eleven.
"There were some great bands tonight," he continued, "Well done everyone. So now for the placings and winner. In third place we have..."
1.07
"In third place we have..." Don Beale announced, "Boys on Bex."
We had come third in the University of Wollongong Battle of the Bands. The John Lennon song, 'God' came into my head. Not the part where he sings, 'God is a concept by which we measure our pain,' no, the situation didn't quite demand that level of drama, but the part where he sings, 'The dream is over.' I was on repeat in my brain.
I shook Kane's hand, bluffed at giving Paul a forehead slap before shaking his hand too, and started to head towards the stage.
A school mate patted me on the back and said, "Good on ya Bucko."
I thanked Don Beale and shook his hand before taking a white envelope from him.
"Come and see me next Monday morning, and we'll have a cheque made out to you for one hundred dollars," Don Beale said to me, "Well done."
"Thanks Don Beale," I repied.
I was feeling quite confused about how to act as I made my way down the stairs to my band mates and school friends. This was a good outcome, but I didn't know how to act. There was a gap between my expectations and the actual outcome that had not filled itself in yet. I started to joke around, play the fool, I had to fill in time until my brain let me know what to do.
Paul looked slightly deflated but happy, Kane was his usual cool professional self and my school mates were happy for us.
'What now?' I asked myself. I had been banking on a win to get me out of the hole I'd dug myself at university. I hated Computing Applications. Only a week before I had to ask a fellow student how to turn on a computer in a tute because mine was off. I had been studying there for over a year and still did not know where the 'on' switch was on a computer! University made me feel like an idiot. There was nowhere there on that campus that I felt like I fit in except when I was in my own world writing music or scribbling drawings on my lecture pads.
"You want a beer Bucko?" asked my mate Scott.
"Cheers mate," I replied, "Can you get me a schoonie of mud this time?"
"No worries."
It had been a great night, we played well, it had all come together nicely. We had a one-hundred-dollar cheque coming our way. Kane and Paul were happy, and I would have been too if it wasn't for my high expectations..."
"Hey man," a voice said to me from behind.
I turned around to see who was speaking to me. It was the judge, Anthony:
"Sorry you didn't win man... those last couple of bands were really good."
"No worries, thanks," I said to him.
"Hey, I'd like to offer you a gig at the Oxford Tavern, have you heard of it?"
"No, but that sounds great, when?" I asked.
"In two weeks’ time, here's my number, give me a call in a couple of days and I'll give you the details. It will only be a support gig, you'll be first on," Anthony said.
"Thanks man, that's great, call you soon."
My university woes could wait for another day, we had a gig at The Oxford Tavern.
1.08
Paul and I pulled up outside my house in his white Camry. During the drive home we had discussed, and both agreed that band competitions were a joke. Although they did have some redeeming features, one of them being the one-hundred-dollar cheque that I was to pick up the following Monday. We were both already looking forward to the gig at The Oxford Tavern.
"Thank for the lift," I tried to say to Paul.
"No worries," he replied.
"Do you think I could bludge another durry?" I asked.
"Sure, they're in the console."
We unloaded my amplifier, guitar and makeup bag and then I waved him goodbye.
"Talk to you tomorrow mate!"
"See you dude," he yelled through the wound-up windows of his accelerating sedan.
I drunkenly walked inside my house trying to be quiet. As I stumbled into the family room, I looked outside through the screen door to see my dog, Otis, jumping up and down with delight upon seeing me arrive home. I tripped over the beanbag and banged into the door before I opened it and made my way outside.
"G'day Otis!" I whispered to the black Labrador.
"G'day matey" I said.
"Where's your ball?" I asked him.
"Gitcha ball, go-wun..."
Otis ran around the backyard sniffing and slobbering, looking for his ball under the midnight moon. I could only see the silhouette of his body going this way and that, until finally he came running up to me with a ball firmly in his mouth.
"Drop it!" I demanded.
"Drop it! I asked.
"Come here," I said and then grabbed the ball out of his mouth before he could run off.
I pretended to throw the ball and I watched him run after the pretend throw. I then got out the Winnie Blue that Paul had given me in the car and lit it.
Otis came back to me totally confused.
"Sorry Otie," I said, as I threw the ball for him. He came back to me, the ball retrieved, ready for another throw but I was over the game already.
"You're a good boy" I reassured him, as I tickled behind his ear.
"Yes you are, you're a good boy," I said again.
"Where's your bone?" I asked.
"Otis, where's your bone?"
He ran off around the yard and came back to me in an instant with the bone. It was a fresh bone that I had only bought for him a couple of days before and there was meat still hanging off it as well as dirt from where he had rubbed it into the ground. He started rubbing it on my jeans.
"Oh, shit Otis... I'm going inside," I said as I finished my smoke.
I banged my head on the screen door as I opened it to go back inside, waking mum.
"How did you go?" a voice asked from the back of the house.
"We came third."
"Well done," the sleepy voice said.
I successfully made my way to my bedroom without hitting anything and closed the door. I found a plastic bag and put it beside my bed just in case I got bed-spins and had to vomit. I took off my clothes and threw them randomly around the room, went to my tape collection and picked out The Ramones and slid the tape into my Walkman. With headphones on I turned out the lights and fell asleep to Blitzkreig Bop.
1.09
"Hello Mrs. Lopes, can I speak to Paul please? I asked, "Yes, thanks, it was a good night, I'm looking forward to playing next time too," I continued, "...Okay."
...
"Adam, what's happening?" Paul asked.
"Hey Paul, just wanted to check what time you're coming around to pick me up for practice."
"Probably sometime around two. I've nearly finished that song of been writing, maybe we can jam it out a bit this afternoon."
"Is that the 'Can't Stop Smoking Cones' one?" I laughed.
"Yeah," he chuckled.
"Cool, let's see if we can finish it today."
I lay down on the lounge and watched some bad Sunday afternoon TV while I waited for Paul to turn up. Win TV were playing re-runs of Donahue. It was all very beige. I was feeling too lazy to get up and and find the remote, so Phil Donahue's voice served as the soundtrack to my racing mind which was writing songs, organising concerts, posters, future record contracts etc...
:::Beeeep:::
Paul had arrived. I lugged my gear out and yelled, "See ya mum."
Once in the car with my gear packed away everything felt better.
"Do you want a durry?" I asked Paul.
"What are they? he replied.
"Winnie Golds."
"Nah. Can you pass me one of my Winnie Blues?" he asked, "They're in the console."
We both lit up as we headed down Bellevue Road, passing Crinis Fruit and Veg, and the fish and chip shop that used to sell us 5c scallops as we waited for our connecting bus on our way home from school, and turned left on to the Princes highway bound for Kane's place.
We drove and caught up on a number of issues: songs... women... my uni study...
"How's the computing going mate?" Paul asked.
For a while I remained silent, pretending I hadn't heard the question, "It's no good man, I fucking hate computers. Although I have an idea which I think might be popular and make some big money."
"What's that?" Paul asked.
"I was thinking of writing a program where the students on campus could link up and become friends, share photos, make updates on how they feel... things like that. I was thinking of calling it something like Head-Case, or The Face-Book. What do you think, do you think it could take off?" I asked.
"Nah, sounds like a bit of a dud. Oh, shit," Paul said, "I'm nearly out of petrol," he said as pulled into the service station.
Ten minutes later we were at Kane's place. Kane walked out barefoot and helped with the lugging. As we set up Paul was talking about his latest song.
"Okay, what have you got so far?" I asked.
"All the lyrics except the last line," he replied.
"What are the words? Write them down...' I said
So, Paul scribbled on to a spare sheet:
Verse 1:
My eyes were as red as the sunset skies
And my mind was blown to somewhere unknown
We hop in my car and we drive real slow
Cause it's cool to cruise at an evenly flow
Chorus:
Can't stop smoking cones
Always wanna smoke them cones
Can't stop smoking cones
Always wanna smoke them cones
Verse 2:
Pack the cone real tight and full
Light the match and have a pull
Don't blow back or you'll bogart out...
"And that all I've got so far," Paul said.
"Cause I'm a long-haired smoking lout," Kane sang looking over Paul's shoulder, finishing Paul's tune.
So, we had another song for the up and coming Oxford Tavern gig that was soon approaching, although we needed a few more to fill out the 45 minutes we'd been given to play. I'd have to get busy and write some more over the coming week.
1.10
I felt a little uneasy sitting there in his office, trying not to look around but succumbing to the temptation every now and then. I saw his booking diary and saw some of the bands coming soon to the bar. I got off my chair a little to take a closer look...
"Good morning there Mr. Bexster," Don said as he entered his office.
Surprised, I jumped back into my chair nearly tipping it over backwards.
"Hi Don." I said.
"I suppose you'd like to pick up your winnings? he asked.
"Sure, also wanted to see if you had any gigs coming up where you needed a support act."
"Funny that," he said "I was just going to ask you if you wanted to play with Spy Vs Spy in a few weeks, it's..."
"Yep, we'll take it." I interrupted.
"...I liked you guys the another night, keep popping in and I'll see what gigs I can throw your way. Now who do I make the cheque to? Your entry form has Barry Bex, Benny Bex and Bobby Bex as the members of your band..."
"Just make it out to me, I'll make sure Barry, Benny and Bobby get paid," I joked.
"Okay, here you go," he said passing me the cheque, "And leave me your number, I'll call you to confirm and give you the details of the Spy Vs Spy slot. Should be a big one."
I carefully wrote my number on a piece of paper with my name and then Barry Bex in brackets underneath it thinking I was hilarious.
As I walked out of the Union building i came across a good mate from school.
"What's going on?" he asked me.
"Just got my first paycheck for the band, I'm rolling in it," I laughed, “What are you up to? I'm going to make up some posters for the band and then head to the bar if you'd like to join me." I said.
"Sure, I've got a tutorial I really don't want to go to." he said.
We made our way to the library and spent ten dollars and twenty minutes photocopying our faces until I found an image that looked suitable for the Oxford Tavern gig poster.
"Great that will do, let's hit the bar," I said.
We walked out of the library with the librarians giving us evils, apparently, they didn't like students photocopying they're body parts on their machines. We made our way across the Duck Pond Lawn and into the bar.
"Thanks for your help man, what do you want?" I said.
"Schooner of New will do," he said.
While we settled back for a quick couple of schooners I got out my liquid paper and scribed 'Boys on Bex' across a photocopy of his upside-down photocopied face.
The band now had a gig poster for the Oxford Tavern, we were one step closer to stardom.
1.11
I was waiting for 5:30pm. I knew Paul would be home from work by then. I was dying to tell him about my day at uni. The cheque for the bands, the support slot with Spy vs Spy, the newly made poster and the song I had just finished.
:::5:27pm:::
"Hello Mrs. Lopes, can I speak to..." I said into the receiver.
"Adam?" Paul answered.
"Paul?" I said.
"What's going on, how did you go with Don Beale?" he asked.
"Hit the jackpot mate, we got the hundred bucks and a support slot with Spy vs Spy in a few weeks time," I said excitedly.
"Awesome."
"Also made a poster for the Oxford Tavern gig and then came home and finished a song," I told him.
"You're on fire," he said encouragingly.
"Do you want to hear the words to my new song?"
"Go for it," Paul said.
"It's called 'Dream Potential,' are you ready?" I asked excitedly.
"Yup..." he said.
"I see you at the traffic lights that turn from red to green
You have to close your eyes so tight to pretend you haven't seen
Wallpaper memories of your life over troubles you need to leave
You say you need to find your type, what's the challenge in naive?
...and then the second verse is:
The phone rings, your memory calls, but you stay within your dreams
No need to fix personality flaws, there's nothing that the church will not redeem
Cover yourself, stable your mind, don't break from your routines
Just stay within these times..."
"Sounds good man," Paul said, "Let’s get it together for The Oxford Tavern show."
"That's what I was thinking, that means we'll have to practice this Saturday before the gig, are you cool with that?'
"For sure."
"Okay, what about around 2pm? I'll give Kane a ring to see if he's up for it." I said.
"Okay man, let me know how you go," Paul said, "Cheers big ears."
"Same goes big nose."
I hung up and then quickly called Kane.
"Hi, Kane?"
"Yeah, is that you Adam?"
"Yeah mate, good news all-round: I have the hundred buck cheque from Don, we have a support slot with Spy vs Spy in a few weeks, I've made a poster for the Oxford, and I've just finished a new song. Do you want to hear the lyrics?" I asked.
"Nah man, I just got home from uni, my brains a bit fried, but that all sounds awesome," Kane said.
"I just got off the phone to Paul" I continued, "and we're thinking about jamming this Saturday around 2pm before the gig to get this new song together, and to polish up some of those other ones."
"Sure man, where abouts?" Kane asked.
"At your house?"
The Oxford Tavern show was approaching as fast as a Dion’s Bus during rush hour. We were getting ready to conquer Wollongong, after that who knows what's next? Maybe a gig in Newcastle...
© 2015 A. Buckland