Music For Small Audiences

What is friendship? What is it that makes another person’s contributions to your life unforgettable? Common values? Intelligent conversations? Compatible tastes? Maybe it’s just being in the right place, at the right time, in the right frame of mind.

An inescapable part of getting older is losing the ones we love. The younger we are, the older the ones are that we say goodbye to, if we’re lucky. The older we get, however, the closer those trend lines converge.

We lost a good one recently. This one’s for you, Will.

This mix was recorded live in Vancouver about six weeks ago, at my good friend Dan’s top-floor terrace on a lovely summer evening. It includes some classics in original form, plus a few nods to days gone by.

I was fortunate to be able to get back through Canada for a visit in recent weeks. It was energising to spend some quality time with family and friends, and of course no visit to Toronto would be complete without a proper record playing session.

The day itself was sunny and comfortably warm. Friday of a long weekend, with a clear schedule, a place downtown ready for the evening, speakers and equipment sorted, and a tight knit crew en route in time for sunset. All set, all ready to go, just needed to get there. Easy train in from the suburbs.

But while the bigger bits of travel had all come off without a hitch, the hardest part of the whole trip, it turned out, was finding my way out of Bloor Station – a task made harder as a result of at least one poor decision on my part. Who knew train stations could be so convoluted?

There is of course a particular satisfaction in escaping from a trap of one’s own making. Happy to see the light indeed.

This is episode 128 of Music For Small Audiences. Recorded live through the evening hours on a warm summer evening, it captures a two and a half hour musical show-and-tell session among good friends with plenty to celebrate.

Alex arrived at our school in year 11. We clocked the Nitzer Ebb T-shirt before we clocked anything else about him, which told us most of what we needed to know about his taste in music. We made a point of introductions, and became good friends quickly.

Some time later the two of us sat at a piano together, working out a little riff we had come up with. The whole thing turned on a single note, an alternation between major and minor over the same tonic, with the root and fifth holding steady. It sounded uncomfortable, with a bit of chromatic friction. He loved it immediately, and while it troubled me at first it grew on me. You could hear, in the space of one semitone, just how much emotion and energy can shift.

It is remarkable how little it takes to change the whole feeling of a thing. A short break, pause or shift (even if just a semitone) is often enough to recharge, reset, and re-release for the moment ahead. Yes, things are difficult at times, but nothing is forever. Enjoy it if you can, endure it if you must.

This is episode 127 of Music For Small Audiences. Recorded live on an Australian winter evening the weekend before a midweek getaway to tropical Queensland, it provides alternating slices of major and minor key energy as befits the mood of the day. Tracks include some of Argentina’s finest, along with a few quality works from local Melbourne legends.

The weather here in Melbourne ground to a halt this past week. As the news put it, a blocking high parked itself in the Tasman Sea, and according to the forecasters it intends to stay there for a few more days yet. Some inland towns have been looking at the same temperature for seven days running. The sky, for the moment, has decided it has nothing further to add.

It has been an interesting few months. A motorcycle ride around Tasmania with my good friend Jason retraced a trip we did more than twenty years ago, while a weekend in Adelaide with Andrew gave a chance to see Marsh play a very cool free laneway set. A very warm Easter in the tropics with family (and similarly stopped weather) rounded out early autumn, providing a great sense of connection. My mother spoke often about travel as a kind of slow-release lesson in personal growth, and about how the fun parts and the harder parts both had something important to teach.

This is episode 126 of Music For Small Audiences. It was recorded live the week before Easter, and I have been road testing it in the weeks since. Bit of a delay getting this one uploaded, in line with finding time between work and personal priorities, but I think it sits well. One of the gentler privileges of releasing infrequently is the freedom to release when the mix is ready, rather than when the calendar insists. Appreciate your patience, and hope you enjoy.

The Australian summer is here, and with it has come a series of getaways with friends and family – some just a weekend, some a few days longer. It can be hard to squeeze both fun and relaxation into the same trip, particularly when one seems to spend as much time planning and packing as on the trip itself. Thankfully, the more often we do it, the better we get.

Preparation is a funny thing. It’s easy to put off, particularly when there are more fun things to do – and whether it’s the night before heading off or the last night before heading home, the liminal energy of the moment doesn’t always lend itself to careful administrative attention. Yet taking those few extra minutes to really dial things in can make a world of difference. As the holiday period fades and the real work returns, the principle remains – preparation is easy to intend, but hard in the moment to consistently do.