The Triffids played Perth Chevron Festival Gardens on Monday, February 15, 2016. with an array of guest singers. Celebrating David McComb. The show was sold out. Guest singer - Gareth Liddiard (The Drones, TFS)

 

 

Oh darling, you are not moving any mountains
You are not seeing any visions
You are not freeing any people from prison
Just an aphorism for every occasion
As if the only thing that ever matters
Is your place at the table
You never read the writing on the label
When you drank from the bottle
It said "Keep away from children"

 

This is stolen property
This is stolen property

With ex-members Linda Morrison (drums), Amanda Brown (violin) and Peter Milton Walsh (vocals), as well as huge fan Rob Snarski (guitar) all on stage together, there was a strong chance that a song by The Go-Betweens would be performed. And I was not disappointed. “Dive For Your Memory” from the 1988 album “16 Lovers Lane” made a wonderful encore to a terrific night. Rob and Lindy's other two friends were Ken Gormley and Barry Turnbull.

 

 

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Robert Forster:

What a lucky city Sydney was on this pale blue morning to see two tall charismatic young men such as David McComb and myself walking towards each other. I had been back in town for under a week, returning with my band The Go-Betweens from our current home in London to start a tour to promote our latest album. It was the early eighties and both David and I were walking the fresh morning streets of Darlinghurst alone — he coming down the hill on one side, me going up the hill on the other, when I saw him.

 

We knew each other of course. The Go-Betweens and The Triffids had played gigs together before we'd gone to London and, through this and the crossover of certain people we had in common, both bands had become friends. We also shared the fate of being outsider musicians from far-off places, Brisbane and Perth, and that meant both of us had already done some travelling and were going to have to do a whole lot more to fulfill the ambitions of our respective bands.

 

We talked on the street and I told him that I had just heard the latest recordings that The Triffids had done; that in my rambling about Sydney over the previous days someone had played me their new record and that I had liked it a great deal — especially a song called 'Red Pony'. What I didn't tell him but felt in my bones was that it was a breakthrough song and that if a songwriter can write one great song then they will certainly write more. This seemed a little too much to say and phrase without sounding condescending. But I praised 'Red Pony' heavily. I also said to him that if he had a spare moment over the next days and he was around, could he possibly show me how to play the song on guitar. He smiled, said he would, and we parted.

 

I must explain why I asked David this. I'm not a natural musician (David was) and music had always been a mystery to me. It was hard to decode. I learnt other people's songs primarily from song-books. Very basic songs I could work out from records — Ramones songs say. But anything more complicated I didn't trust or believe in myself enough to learn. I remember someone playing me a song from Television's Marquee Moon once, and it seemed wondrous and impossible that I was seeing someone's hands move on a guitar and a Television song come to life. So when I asked David to show me 'Red Pony' I wasn't being cute. It was because I thought 'Red Pony' was a great song and I wanted to know great songs and it just popped into my head at that particular moment to ask him.

 

Two days later I was in Darlinghurst in a friend's house. I was alone and there was a sudden knock at the door and I wondered if I should answer it. I did and standing in the doorway with a big semi-acoustic guitar in his hand was David. I invited him in and walked him through to the back of this small workers' cottage where there was a tiny kitchen with a wooden table and chairs. We sat down, he settled himself, and then he began to play me 'Red Pony: My eyes burnt on his fingers. The song started in A-minor and I watched the chords descend, holding as they did, the beautiful melody he'd created and now sang. His voice was strong and dignified over the metallic clang of the guitar. When the song ended I thanked him for finding me and playing me the song, and I offered him the only thing I had in return, a cup of tea, which he accepted.

 

 

 

Omiljena, čuo davno, puštao Žikica.

 

 

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i dve sportaske>

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najlepsi lazni spot.

Edited August 3, 2024Aug 3 by holden kolfild

 

 

 

 

 

S foruma na jutjub

 

 

Ovu sam čuo kod Marka Radcliffea na BBC-u 1996. Koliko se sećam Forster je izveo uživo. Kod Radcliffea su gosti svirali uživo, direktno u program, obično 3-4 pesme. 

Spisak sešna

https://www.scrawnandlard.co.uk/sesions.htm

Snimio sam dosta ovih nastupa. Gde su kasete, nemam pojma?

 

 

Edited August 3, 2024Aug 3 by klimt

 

 

 

 

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