This is RP, Now meet BV, The Rest is History

Photo thanks to Luke... I think?

You'd probably never give this odd array of rowdy cats a second glance on the street or train, but add a mic and a stage and its a whole different story. The room might be barely filled but this night in Newcastle is nothing but love. Heads bobbing to a situational soundtrack thats aphrodisiac, education, auditory safety blanket, and all friendship. Kids of all ages desperately seeking flow in a disjointed daily grind unsatiated but awash of hustle with little to no thrills. These are songs to walk across a landscape to, help you through the proverbial dust storms, help you not just look but see those around you for all their bizarre beauty. This is not product to fill a background, something to be consumed sitting down. This is art in motion, pulses of life, all bigger than them who create, them who ingest, that which goes on in between. This is trial and error of talent, balls, and passion boiled down over the last decade in living rooms and late night pubs to create this collective of unique sounds and ideas. These are friends that blur the definition of family and rarely fit into exactly one genre neatly.

Initiation came four years ago upon waking up in a strange bedroom, safe and warm to the sound of some interesting bedroom rap introduced by none other Jake and Elwood Blues. It was just supposed to be another night of hectic music, a few pints, then back to Manly to pass out at daybreak with the ghosts and bandicoots as usual. But plans dissolve and next thing you know you're tragically hungover but accidentally cracked the code of this grossly commercial city. You've found the den of culture; fresh with overspray, surrounded by saxophones and MPCs, and smelling downright funky. You're not going to find beats and rhymes that make your heart expand at Circular Quay. You can't find friends that don't mind if you have a cry in their garden at a hostel bar. The best parts of Sydney aren't for sale, they can only be found down proverbial back allies at the end of that night you've given up on. That's where I started meeting the colorful cast of this Big Village family.

Photo thanks to Kevin..I mean Damon. 

So fast forward to last weekend and I'm chilling in the impromptu artspace that is the roof in beautiful Sydney sun catching up and tossing the footy. It is obvious that the projected departure time was nothing but a nice idea but, after all, this crew IS the show so soundcheck happens when it happens. Shoes optional but step lightly on account of the shards of glass, rusty bottle caps, and watch out for the soft spots. All in good fun, take another sip of luke cold beer and take in a nice long mental picture. Just remember to bring the CDs this time. It's always better when you can actually sell your music.

If I had to summarize the following 48 hours it would have to be something like: boxes, beer, scroot! scroot!...yes scroot (can't really explain), 'another pee break!', soundcheck, hype, 'No you cannot take that hoodie, please give it back', footy in the street, back on road, sleep, wake up, coffee, do it again but this time without sleeping and add one really yummy steak and substitute some penis jokes for a debate on the validity of reality. Next thing I know, Sunday afternoon came way too soon. The mad dash to the airport took about 5 hours including a stop off to randomly visit somebody's kid but I was on the flight as planned, oddly conflicted about what just happened. It was the perfect finale to the past three weeks but why do I always get a little choked up when parting ways with this side of Sydney?

This is the real life embodiment of one of the facets of this illusive Oz that keep me chipping away at the immigration bullshit in order to etch out a home in this gorgeous but unforgiving land. When I throw caution to the wind and find myself facing homeless nights, foodless weekends, or just nocked down by failure I've always been shown a hand by Mute, Smurf, or Billie to name a few. I can't name too many other artists on my ipod that I can say that about.

Photo thanks to Damon

At this point I feel like the music gives more than it gets but as they keep getting more and more Triple J love and touring like crazy, I can see this train gaining some steam. It all goes to show you what can happen when you're nice to everybody, even some seemingly crazy, sloshed dude at a show who tries to bum a cigarette off you then proceeds to tell you he's a rapper.

Thanks a ton to the BV family for an awesome weekend and making great music, art, and energy to keep it all in beautiful perspective :)

*Check out the tunes and videos in the Big Village link to the right of this post.*