The story's told...

The writing's on the wall...Not Drowning Waving in concert at Northcote Social Club, 31-3-2006. (Photo: maarts)



Not Drowning Waving farewell at the Northcote Social Club, Friday March 31 2006.


As quick as the reformation of this band was a fact, as quick was its farewell. Last year fans of this near-legendary Australian band were delighted to find out that David Bridie, John Phillips, Helen Mountfort, Russell Bradley, Rowan McKinnon, James Southall and Tim Cole were putting Not Drowning Waving back together with the planning of several concerts, plans of the remastering and reissue of the band's full back catalogue, a box set and a new double album filled with remixes of the Not Drowning Waving-songbook by renowned Australian producers. It indicated a renaissance for the band, yet reality set in pretty quickly; the remix-album is still on the cards but has been whittled down to a single disc and there's no news yet on the reappearance of the back catalogue outside of the re-release of their international masterpiece Tabaran and a retrospective double-CD titled Through The One Last Door. Several planned concerts had to be canned due to lack of interest of the ever so fickle public. But more importantly the band was forced into a decision about their future when percussionist James Southall had to quit the band recently due to a serious elbow injury that prohibited him from playing. Since NDW has been not only about the songsmithery of main composer David Bridie alone but also about the interconnection between the members, the option of ending Not Drowning Waving's resurrection was the one that was taken. That happened with a final concert which was held almost at Bridie's back yard, the small and cosy Northcote Social Club in Melbourne.

Not Drowning Waving is one of the most interesting bands hailing from a country where the relationship between music and its heartland seemingly is dominated by the grit and the dirt of rock bands like AC/DC and Midnight Oil. In the landscape of Aussie rock NDW does seem like an oddity even though there are many references to the same grit and dirt to be found within. Australians love the down-to-earthness in their music, the blood sweat and tears-rock from bands like Cold Chisel being almost like a national emblem, their straightforward rock being as quintessential Australian as the red earth covering half of that continent. NDW have never been about being that straightforward but rather than to represent the harshness of that surrounding they have been able to enhance it and use the raw splendour of the earth as an inspiration for a more spacious trip. Listen to a song like The Same Heat where the desolate description of red earth, spinifex and dust leads to a song of barren beauty. Nature plays an important part but it's not the only subject matter that translates well into the sound; Bridie's a romantic and a sceptic who not only exhibits a fondness for looking around in the country but also is a dab hand in depicting Australian society's little maladies (The Marriage Is A Mess), its history (Albert Namatjira, a song about the famous aboriginal painter), sizing up the political situation and human rights in West Papua/Polynesia (Blackwater, The Kiap Song) to reminiscing about the past (Willow Tree).
The music in which all that comes wrapped in is a mixture from melancholic balladry to blood pumping percussive pop, often led by Bridie's piano and keyboards which bring the evocative melodies to the band where cellist Helen Mountfort, guitarist John Phillips, bassplayer Rowan McKinnon, drummer Russell Bradley and percussionist James Southall add their qualitative gifts to it. Especially the meandering guitar of Phillips is an amazing ingredient and is an important part of the unique sound of the band- drifting between wispy echoes and controlled feedback it's adding the colours to the picture rather than defining its edges via riffs and solos. Mountfort doesn't add solely the mournful quality of the cello-solo but also adds echoed shrieks via an electric cello at certain moments. Using an array of percussion, normally courtesy of Southall but in tonight occasion deputised by Airi Ingram is another aspect of their diversity; in fact, one of the main songs on NDW's repertoire, The Sing Sing leads to a dazzling climax of drums, toms and sticks. All these individual threads lead to a rich tapestry which have an unusual, almost un-Australian beauty, full of detail and gorgeous colours. A shame that not everyone dared to dive in at the time.















Colours of the land- Not Drowning performing with the visuals by Tim Cole a prominent part of the show (photos: maarts)

Tonight's presentation including full visuals by regular member Tim Cole (who also provides a vast array of sound effects which adds another layer of atmosphere) is being held at the band room of a small cafe. It makes tough going for the expansive band as the stage comparatively is like the format of a postage stamp- Bridie's monitor speaker balances delicately on the edge and Helen Mountfort has to play her keyboard on the floor because the stand for it even didn't fit on it. The room isn't sold out but is reasonably filled.

There are two sets of roughly an hour in which the band bring a large section of their most wellknown tunes with in between the sets a young Polynesian male dancer bringing a comical skit, accompanied by Airie Ingram on percussion.The full gamut of NDW's sound passes by- from the utter ambient as John Phillips demonstrates in the little solo Big Sky, making his guitar sound like a bunch of organs tied together, the forlorn ballads like The Same Heat, Teteke Aotearoa, The Marriage Is A Mess (complete with the rainy highway-sound effects by Tim Cole and the beautiful cello-solo by Helen Mountfort) and Up In The Mountains measure up excellently to the high octaned popsongs like the driven Blackwater, the bongo-fest Yes Sir I Can Boogee and Plog which sees Bridie and Cole get up and dance, no mean feat on the miniature stage. And as usual, the percussion-fest of the final track The Sing Sing brings several band members to the drums of Bradley, hammering them joyously whilst Phillips unleashes strain after strain of howling noise out of his guitar, assisted by a wall of keyboards and the clapping of fans who dance furiously to the beat.

Further highlights include the menacing Storm, built upon a simple piano motif and explored further through thundering percussion and dark waves of keyboards and guitar, Mr Suharto Man's elegant music despite its biting lyric, the bouncy instrumental Norman Young with its almost African guitarriff and the desolate ballad The Cold And The Crackle. The band is in good form, especially the upbeat Bridie and Russell Bradley and despite some technical problems (what would a NDW-gig be without a keyboard not working?) everything flows nicely.
The encores see also the reappearance of NDWs first ever song titled Moving Away- David Bridie announced he had to find the record again and listen to the lyrics, which he described as 'truly fucking awful. They make Joy Division sound like a happy band'. The eight minute-track has references aplenty to the post-wave/Romantic period and doesn't sound dated, though Bridie's decription of the lyrics is spot on.
Immediately followed by the eerie, earthy Terra Nullius it brings the proceedings back to a quiet reverie. The crowd awaits another opportunity to dance but, oh irony, as if there weren't enough factors conspiring against Not Drowning Waving in the last year, tonight sees the final act of insolence as one of the staff members tells Bridie that the gig has to be over right now because their time is up...robbing the fans of the final two tracks of which traditional closer Walk me Home gets a rousing rendition by a handful of fans who empty the venue.

I'm hard pressed to find a band that conjures up that many moodswings and presents it in a package so appetising. David Bridie might still have a solo-career as well share a band with Helen Mountfort in the more acoustic My Friend The Chocolate Cake but this sound was unique. Sadly the world was never conquered but the people attending this gig had for a moment the feeling that the earth was theirs. Truly memorable.