I joined my first band when I was 12. A group of friends from high school, I can count at least 3 guitarists from memory (although Iron Maiden did it), too many bassists (myself included), no drummers and no singers beyond singing songs around campfires or me belting out Snowblind by Black Sabbath at the year 8 camp, which went down a treat with the teachers.
The band arrangement was simple, if you had an instrument you were in. We would change band names every few days as a funnier, more inappropriate joke band name was thought up. It was informal to say the least.
As the years passed, the bands became more traditional. No need for that second bassist, we’re not Spinal Tap. The songs became more original and listening back to the demos of the 16- 22 aged music today, they are still cracking songs. Too good to have never had an audience beyond girlfriends, housemates, parents and annoyed neighbours.
Now, perilously close to 30 I’m still in a band, yet not in a “band” band. Make sense? It will soon.
Having spent so much time in over the past ten years where the creative output should have been at its peak, I have very little recorded music to actually show for it.
Four bands, each with a lifespan of several years. One recorded EP, four singles and probably 50+ fully fleshed out demos.
The hardest part of being in bands – for me – has always been dealing with the conflicting schedules and priorities of a disparate group of people. When it’s your song on the chopping block, you are the driver, the passionate force charged with energising and inspiring the other members of the band. Your job is to convince them why this rhythmic pattern laced with melody is worth spending dozens of hours sitting in a hot sweaty room repeating until it can stand on its own as a song. When it’s not your song it’s up to you to push and challenge the primary writer and help the song be the best that it can be.
So over the last two years I’ve had the idea bubbling away until it really started to eat at me, I have to start releasing music. No excuses anymore, no-one else to blame if things went awry. This is me, in my room, with my gear and years of frustration at spinning the wheels as the motivating force.
The aim that I’ve set myself is to release an EP by the end of 2016. Now I’ve written that I have to push to achieve it.
Why Rusty Camera?
There were an alarming number of “band” conversations that I had with myself while trying to work out the name for this project. I say “band” conversations because almost anyone in a band will have had to suffer the prolonged and painful experience of answering one of the most simple, yet critical questions – What do we call ourselves?
If you know me or take some time to look at the older posts on this site you will find that I also have a passion for photography. Having a camera has given me access to experiences that I’d previously thought impossible and has pushed me outside my comfort zone on numerous occasions.
Rusty Camera. It’s a name in a name for me. It was one of those little ideas that just sticks with you while others come and go.
“What about this? THAT IS FANTASTIC…. Oh but it sounds like this band”
“What about this? Ohhhh there’s a band in Melbourne who have just started releasing stuff a few weeks ago”
“What about this? Hmmm…. That could end up being a sex move on Urban Dictionary, but oh well – Rusty Camera it is!”