I hate the last day. Even with the fire event and another gig at the Duck,
it's still the last day.

Except this time it isn't. We've once again received a call from Bill's
Donger, asking if we'd like to play at the farewell ceremony. Now we didn't
even know there was a farewell ceremony. Apparently, on the day after the
last public day, there's a dinner and a small lantern ceremony to thank the
volunteers. To the Woodford organisers, this is a big deal. There are over
1300 volunteers that make this place run smoothly. That's an awful lot of
people. So of course, we said yes (we don't usually leave until well into
the day after anyway, so spending another night would be no trouble at all).
We're not sure what we're doing at the moment, but like most things here,
it'll seamlessly fall into place nearer the time.

It's interesting to see how the festival grows as the days go by. Here's a
wee example: People start fresh, in their own clothes, but towards the end,
everyone is in Thai fisherman pants and a tie-dyed shirt. I often wonder how
long the goodwill would last. It is really a different place, or would the
usual human bickering, pre-justice and ignorance start to reassert
themselves after a week, two weeks, a month? Actually, I don't think I
really want to find out. I'd rather live with what we have here.

Yesterday I almost started an international incident as I nearly caused
Dougie McLean to be hit by a bus. We found ourselves walking back to the
Green Room together, talking about guitars. Dougie knows of Davy Stuart, the
Scotsman that built my guitar, and was curious about it, so we'd stopped in
the middle of the road to pull the instruments out and have a comparative
strum (I've been in love with Moon guitars for ages, but am more than happy
with mine). Needless to say, we were both off in our own worlds, and barely
heard the bus...

The duck gig was great. The sound was a little dicey up on stage, but the
front of house was ok we were told. For our last Woodford gig, we usually
play the stuff we really enjoy, so we threw in a few cover songs, the fast
tunes etc. Yesterday's gig had been just incredibly hot. I'd arrived and
straight away seen the huge fan at stage left (where I play) but alas it had
to be turned off as according to Sarah: "It makes my hair stick to my lip
gloss." And they call me precious! This time though, she had her hair up, so
I got to play within a vortex of hot air, which was nicer than just
stillness which drives me a little crazy. The gig today was the first time
I'd actually had my guitar feel hot, I mean really hot. The wood of the neck
felt like it had been in an oven. The tuning stayed wonderfully stable
though, a testament to Davy Stuart's genius as a luthier. Actually, thinking
back through the whole festival, the hardest thing for me as a guitarist has
been that having a damp scarf around my neck has meant that my fingers, and
my playing callouses, have been soft so playing has been a bit
uncomfortable. Still, that's nothing compared to last year, where I remember
seeing the water beading off my guitar.

Weather: Hot, steamy, crystal blue skies
Doughnuts eaten: 2
THE BARS ARE OUT OF CIDER!!
Pairs of pants bought: 2

This morning we mooched at the quiet and shady Committee Bar with Jigzag’s Liz Frencham, John Thompson and Nicole Murray from Cloudstreet (and this year Nicole is musical director for the fire event, and we can’t wait to see what she does!), Dougie (who was very much the worse for wear after a 5am session finish and many Guinnesses) and the indescribably erudite Sandy McCutcheon. It was a fantastic, funny, eclectic discussion, most of which I dare not repeat here, but let me just say I’ll never listen to a sax solo, or watch Bindi Irwin on TV in quite the same way again. Sadly, in some fit of rabid gesticulation, I managed to marinate myself in the better part of a pint of the Black Nectar, much to the amusement of all. For the first few moments it was actually quite refreshing, but then the stickiness hit. Still, I thought about walking around sucking on my shirt for the rest of the day, but alas had to go shower when I started to ming like an Irishman's favourite felt drinking hat.

The gigs have gone just wonderfully.


It’s always difficult to know just what to play, as the audience’s tastes seem to vary with the time of day, the temperature, who else is on etc. Today, we decided to do a set of just original material, mostly songs and the tunes the girls have written. After the gig in the chai tent with no fans, blazing heat and Sarah getting a mild case of heat stroke afterwards, we wanted to take things a little easier. Of course it was the usual different story when we were up there (we just can’t help ourselves it seems). Everyone seems a little mellower today, so we finished up with the trad a cappella song, The Yorkshire Couple, which we don’t often do. It was great to hear all the singing and laughing. Best comment afterwards was someone telling us that Sarah’s new song, Drink Up Me Boys, had made him cry. In a good way, of course.

The heat is still incredible, though not as relentless as a few years about where it topped 40 degrees every day. This year, it’s more the humidity. I’m only surviving because I soak my Krama (A Cambodian Khmer scarf giving to me for Christmas by my friend Kevin) in ice water then drape it over my neck. And to think, on the first day, people would ask ‘why are you wearing a scarf, numpty?” Hahah. Dust is pretty bad though, and I can kind of feel it beginning to lodge in my nose and sinuses. Good job I’m not a singer!

We've been taking so many photos (most of them too rude and terrible for general consumption), but I'll wait until I'm back on my iMac at home before I post them. There are already some up on Facebook though. Use 'Paul Brandon', 'Sarah Calderwood' & 'Bridget Masters' to search the tags (Mannie doesn't have a Facebook account as he thinks it's the work of the divil) and hopefully, I'll collect the whole lot on Picasa really soon.

Right, more icey Krama goodness, more doughnuts, more Guinness...

Cold Showers today: 3
Byron Bay Doughnuts: 1
Langos (Hungarian fried snap bread with gulash): 1
Waking Time: 5am (Mean bin men!)
Fallen over a guy rope: 0 (!)
Spilled Guinnesses: 1
Clean underwear Left: 1 Pair

Damn the gypsies make good coffee.

It's just after midnight on I think Tuesday, although I guess it's now technically Wednesday. I'm really not sure anymore. It only matters when it comes to remembering gigs anyway. You know where you are in the program because the previous day's page is dusty, tattered and most likely has coffee, kofka balls and Byron Bay Doughnut stains on it. I'm in the wonderfully-named Green Room, and it's just occurred to me that perhaps Green Rooms are thus named because they're places of peace and solace, away from the madness that surrounds. People are asleep on the giant bed pallets, catching a few zeds under the cool of the huge fans in here. It's a nice place to sit, recharge (both body and iPhone) and people watch. These blogs take me ages to write, not because I'm ogling famous types, but simply because I get sidetracked by the interesting people. There are ten thousand stories at this festival, and I want to write about them all.

But I'm here to write about ours.

I'm really proud of that segue!

So today, I met Dougie MacLean.

I'm not going to go into details about how I feel about his music; everyone in the band has been influenced by him in a very personal way, but I'll just mention that seeing Dougie perform live has been pretty much at the top of my musical to-do list for well, over twenty years. And to see him perform then get to chat and play with him…

As a performer, he is just sublime. Music, humour, and and amazing self-deprecating sense of self that has audiences sitting mesmerised. When he struck up those wonderful first chords of 'Not Lie Down' (which I've been picking at soundchecks but never performing for years), I was lost.

When you meet people who have had a profound effect on you (and I'm talking about meeting them here on professional level rather than as a fan, as we're all here to perform at the festival) it can go many different ways, but we all kind of knew that he'd be great. But that initial moment when you strike up conversation is always tricky. It's very easy, particularly with someone held in such esteem as Dougie, to make a complete arse out of one's self, but he's a wonderfully warm and at-ease character so all went well. We're going to be playing again at the Cygnet Festival next week, along with Dougie so we wanted to make sure we got off on a good foot! Some stonking tunes and geeky guitar talk was a great start! Now I have to work on the idea of playing something together at Cygnet. The idea has been floated (and very well received). Watch this space...

6am.

Things start early around here.

At first light, the trucks come 'round. The rubbish truck is particularly noisy. It's one of those big industrial things with prongs on the front that make it look like a mechanical mammoth. it picks up the car-sized dumpsters, hoiks them over the cab then with an almighty booming bang, empties them. King of these is the glass recycling version. As above, but the crash is followed by the sound of ten thousand shattering bottles. Great fun at 5am. Then come the water tankers, the food, ice, general traffic... But I sleep well here, always have. Not sure if it's exhaustion (not yet!), the gentle lull of the drums (no fecking chance) or just something aromatic in the air (most likely), and even the hue & cry of Woodford waking usually isn't enough to annoy me into getting me up at 6am every day. Usually it's just I start getting fidgety inside the tent. Mornings here are just stunning. The hills behind the valley are usually shrouded in this beautiful moving mist, and the colour of the light is something quite unique. So I'm sitting here, 'puta on my lap, looking out over the hills and just watching people drifting to the showers, chatting, rolling out of their tents with smiles on their faces. This truly is one of my favourite places on Earth. People here will stop to pick up the smallest piece of litter, they chat, ask questions of each other, share food, drink and tobacco, but most of all they're tolerant.

So, today. Big day. Mannie and Bridge arrive properly so the camp will become whole. Mannie also has the other eskie full of Sunas Apple Juice so we'll be able to stop spitting feathers with thirst! Work-wise, we have a gig tonight down at the Muse, which we're itching for, but before that we have the Opening Ceremony. Bridget, Mannie and I have today to learn the song and re-jig one of our tunesets (I was about to say 'no pun intended, but arse it, I'll let that stand. Re-jig a tune. Ha!). It's a great song, very funny and should go down a treat.

Right, I'll sign off here and come back a bit later.

Stunned.

That's what I am.

We just played in front of many thousands of people. Estimates are anywhere between 5 and 20 thousand, though one Woodford person told me he reckoned it was about 17,000. We played Sarah's tune, NightFaeries for the lantern procession, which was just amazing, then we played the Woodford opening song with Terry and finally a long tuneset for the firedancers. It was raining, but not hard, and it was just magic. We were on the huge Amphitheatre stage, standing in front of the huge backline setup for Ash Grunwald and That One Guy, playing our tunes. Every so often, the lights would lift, and we'd get the huge panorama of little heads and lamp-lit trees. It was truly magic, something that will stay with us forever.

The night gig at the Muse was great too. We were exhausted from the amphitheatre, but it was a great way to start our official program. Alas, party animals that we are, we were in bed a scant hour later. Rock and roll. We're playing at the Chai Tent tomorrow, on what is supposedly our day off, but the way we look at it, we're here to play and enjoy ourselves, and there's just no point sitting in a tent all day long.

Weather: Stinkingly humid. Scattered showers.
Byron Bay Organic Doughnuts scoffed: 2
Showers taken 4
T-shirts changed: 3
Ciders drunk: uncountable

By Sairey. I'm sitting backstage at the Woodford Amphitheatre listening to Ash Grunwald sound check using all sorts of guitar effects pedals. It sounds fat, full of bass and absolutely brilliant! We're patiently milling around waiting for our own sound check as we found out we're performing in the Opening Ceremony tonight. It's all very last minute & I have no idea what to expect, but personally I love the chaos of it :) Mannie is in his tune zone wandering up and down back here playing his mando. He won't hear anything we say to him for the next ten minutes now. I'm tempted to lay down some gaffa tape as lane markers! We're sound checking in five, back soon.

Yep, day 0. Sarah and I actually arrived on Christmas day, so perhaps it should be day -1, and I was completely surprised at how many people there already were here. There are literally hundreds of people putting up tents, stocking toilets with paper, checking electrics, organising events (yes, right up until the day there are parts of the calendar that are fluid -more on that later), all manner of things. Bridget and I came up here last Saturday to set up the campsite (and it's amazing how quickly Sarah and Mannie can find life-threatening things of incredible importance to do when there are tents to set up). Despite a storm last night, all the tents were still up, so I set about putting the finishing touches to the site with streamers of prayer flags and paper lanterns. That's one of the things I love about the Woodford Festival -you're here for a week so you can settle right in. Bridge and I got a great site right near the Green Room. It's noisy but hey, you don't exactly come here to sleep!

We spent Christmas day just wandering around with our good friend Davydd McDonald who seems to have become our Woodford version of Dobby the Campsite elf, but without the politeness or even obeying of my orders. In fact he just turns up (out of thin air), drinks my coffee then buggers off, but he's grand value and knows more tunes than any six people I know.

Ok, the important bits. I'll keep a record throughout the festival (hopefully!):

Weather: It's hot, but not unbearable, very gentle scattered rain, but otherwise great. Evenings are just sublime
Number of Byron Bay organic doughnuts scoffed: 1
Huntsman Spiders around tent: 1
Ciders drunk: 5
Times I've fallen over a guy rope: 1

So, this morning (Friday) we received a mobile phone summons to meet with the Festival Director, Bill Hauritz. Bill met with a bit of an accident a few weeks ago so he's currently running the festival from a wheelchair while his terribly broken knee (and leg) heals. We were a tad nervous, after all, it's not everyday that you get a call from Katie, Bill's #1 asking if you're on site and would like a wee job...

We've been invited to perform at the opening ceremony, in the Amphitheatre tomorrow evening. Never would I have imagined we'd be playing the Amphitheatre here! We're going to be playing some of our own tunes, then backing an old mate, Terry Jacobs for a song before playing some more tunes. Should be a blast! The potential audience is massive.

Tonight there's a small session down at the Duck & Shovel, and although the festival doesn't really start until tomorrow, there's a surprising amount going on. I'm sitting in the Green Room typing this, one eye on the screen, one eye on the door watching the performers coming and going. It's such a great relaxing place, carpet, comfy chairs, constant curiosity wondering about the origins of all the people wandering in.

I've got to the point where I really have to stop and think about how many times I've performed here, both with Sunas and other bands, but it just doesn't matter. It really is something special. There's a phrase I used a few years ago to describe it; the same phrase once used by another guest here, Dougie McLean to describe his local ceilidh.

It's a privileged glimpse of how humanity can ac, given the right circumstances.

In these serious times of political confusion and fear, we've decided that our Christmas Message this year should be uplifting, spiritual and in the full flavour of the season.

http://elfyourself.jibjab.com/view/fogxNVzeUn333OqgBEKU

Sunday 19th October

I snapped this on our way up to play at the Woodford Festival Program launch.

A storm swept through, and as the rain cleared, the land began to steam. I took this out of the car window travelling at about 80kpm. It bears an uncanny resemblance to our album cover!

Sunday 18th Oct, 7:30am

Urg.

That is all.

Yesterday we woke up really groggily (ok, ok, I did). It was a shame we only stayed one night in Canberra as our motel was fantastic (go Bridget!). Bridge & I slept so soundly we didn't even hear Paul fall out of bed. We were on the road at 10am, and our goal was to reach Harrigan's Irish Pub in Harrigan Waters by 6pm.
Success!

It's a truly beautiful place. We all felt like plebs though, as we'd been travelling all day and arrived tired, sweaty and looking like shite (yes, it really does happen). We were hoping to make a good impression, but it didn't begin well. A lady approached us and asked me, 'What time are you starting?' Thinking she and her family were fans of Celtic music I answered, 'We start at 8pm', to which she replied, 'Oh good, I'll make sure we're gone before then.'

!

Fortunately the Harrington Waters gig was one of our best gigs of the tour, and the audience response was fantastic. It's always an interesting gig when you realise you're playing to a table packed full musicians. A very big hello to Nick, Charlie, Annette & Jeff and sorry for such a quick session after the gig!

We packed up fairly quickly, hit the road at midnight and spent the next seven hours gawping at the stunning fat waning yellow moon hanging lazily in the sky and lighting the landscape in the most eerie hue.

Half an hour ago we reached Jamberoo. Although Paul & I drove in shifts, neither of us has much recollection of the drive. What I do remember will be ingrained in my memory forever. I started driving around 4:30am, crossed the Harbour Bridge at 5am and drove over the Wollongong ranges just in time to see the most spectacular fiery sunrise spread out over the ocean at 5:45am. It was the most incredible sight! Bridget was awake at the time (the girl never seems to sleep, poor thing. Unlike Paul, who has the most extraordinary ability to fall asleep just about anywhere) and I was so glad to share one of my few sunrises with her :)

So now we're sitting at a little café in the town of Jamberoo, and all three of us are just shattered. We're either on the verge of tears or laughing hysterically at everything we hear, see or do. It's very quiet at our table right now, and we're clutching our coffees for dear life (double shot lattes all around).

Today we're performing at the Folk in the Foothills Festival & although I feel as though I'm walking through treacle I'm really looking forward to it. We've been told by quite a few people that it's a great festival. I'm hoping we can have a shower before our first performance at 10:30am, as I've never felt so manky in my life.

This is Sairey, signing off on one of many caffeine induced perk-ups.

So I'm sitting in bed in a motel in Armidale, a day after we were expected to be home in Brisbane. My lovely drivers are still fast asleep and seeing as they're the ones doing all the work I thought I might let them sleep a while longer.

I think we left off somewhere between Sydney and Canberra...

The gig at the Folkus in Canberra was great! We rolled up in Eddie to be greeted with a big hug from Billy, the organiser of the folk club who I have met many times before at the National Folk Festival. Not wearing his usual rainbow tights and tutu (as of course is standard festival wear), we got straight down to business and started soundchecking, meeting the other bands, running over the road for emergency coffees, and returning for emergency alcohol.

I was thrilled to see some of my friends turn up to see us play (Thanks Aleicia and Lachlan) and other unexpected guests (Hi to John and Di – who we randomly ran into during our coffee expedition, and Sair's friend Clint), as well as the ever supportive Canberra folkies and Ceili dancers. The other bands were fantastic and got everyone up and dancing. We then played a brief but successful concert before pulling all of the other muso's up on stage for a couple of mammoth tune sets.

We returned to our motel tired but happy and went to bed with thoughts of our disgustingly huge day the next day - we were driving 7 hrs North to Harrington, doing a 3 hour gig, then driving 6 hrs South to Jamberoo, arriving just in time to get on stage at Folk in the Foothills festival – and yes, we do know that we are insane!

Just a wee note to everyone who's been emailing and smsing us during
our epic 1200km trip today.

We're currently having a bite and a coffee in Tamworth, roughly
halfway. We're going on into the night, only 545km to go, but we're
all awake and perky

Cheers,

Paul, Sarah & Bridge

Sent by iPhone from somewhere...

Right now I’m sitting in Eddie the sexy Tarago (sorry Mannie) munching on my favourite snack in the world, Herb & Spice Kettle chips. We’re listening to an interesting playlist consisting of Kavisha Mazella, TéTé, Paul Simon, Nancy Kerr & James Fagan, Dire Straits (1970’s stuff), the Poachers, Mark Knopfler and Martha Tilston. I have two of my best friends flanking me (and missing the other one terribly) and we’re on our way to Canberra in great spirits.

Last night we played at the Bald Faced Stag Hotel. In order to gain the best possible audience we did an enormous gig SOS mail out via Facebook, MySpace, emails and texts to all and sundry as well as to our wonderful folk contacts. Given the fact that we’ve never played Sydney before and we only had 24 hours notice before we played, we weren’t expecting miracles, but were secretly hoping to play to a fairly large audience.

We played to nine people :)

And I am not complaining! To Paul’s friend David, my cousin Aaron, his friend Daniel, my Uncle Mick, Aunty Alison, and Bridgey’s friends Ian, Joanne, Don & Diane – thank you for coming and supporting us!

We would also like to send out a huge thank you to everyone we contacted about this gig. Understandably most people already had made plans, but your well wishes for a great gig meant the world to us. And to everyone who spread the last minute word to friends, we are so grateful. At the end of the day whether we played to nine people or nine hundred, the support we have received is overwhelming.

The actual gig itself went really well. It was our first official tour gig without our beloved Mannie, and he was definitely missed. The Bald Faced Stag is a great venue, and we played a solid performance. Here we send out another thanks to our sound guy Drew. We felt bad that he broke a date with his girlfriend to do our gig, but he perked up after massive geek-out moment with Paul when they both discovered they owned iPhones (what is it about men with gadgets?)!

Tonight we’re playing at the Folkus which is held at the Serbian Club in Canberra. My voice has held up pretty well despite the fact that it’s still rough, so here’s hoping it will be clear for tonight. Paul & Bridgey keep asking if I’m upset with them because I haven’t been talking much!

One other thing that I’m really surprised about is how well we all get on. The three of us haven’t really had a break from each other for the past two weeks, and I imagined we would have our moments, but really all we’ve done is laugh and take the piss even more. This pleases me :)

So now the hills of luscious green are rolled out before us and we’re cruising toward Canberra. Onwards and upwards!

So I'm sitting here by myself, on a drum riser on the stage of a venue in Sydney. The room is empty, there's an hour before the doors open. We've just sound checked and the girls have popped off to get changed. I have a cold beer, hot lights on my face and the smell of garlic prawns and old tobacco in my nose. The foldback speakers are humming with the ghosts of a thousand past concerts. My fingers and legs are tingling, as they always do before a gig.

We've no idea if they'll be ten or two hundred here tonight and I'm missing Mannie, my partner in pre-gig bullshit.

Damn I love my job.

Paul