Rock & Roll Retreads ...by Robert Lastdrager

Rock & Roll Retreads

...by Robert Lastdrager
     Please don’t tell anyone… but rock and roll isn’t doing it for me any more.

     I’ve reached a juncture in my life and there’s no turning back. For me rock and roll has become a bloated concept, past its use by date and oblivious to the fact that it’s heading toward a cliff at sixty kilometres an hour with coffee and doughnut in hand, listening to mainstream FM radio while talking hands free. Somebody tell me I’m wrong. Please!

     I should be excited about all the summer festivals, the fact that the stores are full of re mastered and re packaged discs and DVDs, and thankful that the street press is keeping all those graphic design graduates busy producing thousands of shiny full page ads. Trouble is the music on offer isn’t turning me on and furthermore those street mags don’t light up the BBQ well either; too many toxic colours in the flame.

     Don’t get me wrong I love all styles of music from classical to hip-hop and everything in between; my beef is the aural ground hog day that is commercial radio. Sure I’ve loved the Stones, AC DC, the Beatles, Dylan, Neil Young - you name it - but I need a break from all the same old songs putting me in a sleeper hold as soon as I wake up.

     Advertisers realise popular music is an emotional trigger for the listener that links their nostalgia for their youth to a new product, but surely enough is enough. Why does commercial radio in particular continue to indoctrinate us via a constant drip of The Eagles, Foreigner and Spandau Ballet etc… where is the quality control?

     I decided to document every bit of unsolicited music I heard in a single day. It started at 6 am with a blackbird whistling the chorus of “Come on Eileen” on a branch outside my bedroom window. It was then that I knew it was going to be a long day. By 10 am at the supermarket writers’ cramp had well and truly taken hold. One after another - George Michael, Tom Jones, Johnny Cougar, Culture Club, The Monkees - and I hadn’t even got to K Mart yet, where to my horror, a flatulent organ ‘Best Of’ held my ears prisoner while I priced ladders and searched for socks.

     During a much-needed lie down, I sought some respite from an ABC afternoon arts program, where the period in European history known as the Reformation was being discussed. What a great name for a band I thought, in this age of the rock and roll comeback. Why doesn’t some promoter create a “super cluster” of old has beens and work the stadiums of the world…oh, they have already? Sorry. I’ve got nothing against the Reformation concept except for maybe the unfortunate soiling of treasured musical memories and the stark realisation that time is moving way too fast.

     That afternoon a friend and I had a few quiet ones at a hip inner city drinking hole. The barman was spinning some vinyl. He began playing the A-Z of the Doors back catalogue and thirty minutes later as Roadhouse Blues kicked in I asked him if he could give the stereo a nudge. His young face collapsed in an avalanche of disappointment before he dutifully obliged. “Ah, the next generation of fans,” I thought as I sat back down, only to hear the barman’s comeback in the form of Shirley Bassey belting out Goldfinger. ”Think you’ve shot yourself in the foot ol’ boy” my friend quipped.

     It seems to me the new rock and roll has no real anger, intent or sense of humour and frankly I’d rather hear a harness racing call on AM radio in a shed lashed with hail. I keep hearing Myspace is the saviour, but that just seems like a lot of work to me. A few years back when the two-prong attack of the Hives and the Strokes appeared I really thought there was a glimmer of hope, finally a wave of new blood, the next generation, but I’ve been bored ever since. So how can I escape this ever-growing back catalogue of bland commercialised music? Finally the answer came to me when my daughter asked “ Dad, can I have an Ipod for my birthday?” “YES!” I beamed. “And maybe we can share it sometimes?” I enthused. “No Daddy,” she smiled, shaking her head. “You’ll need one for your music and I’ll need one for mine”. She was absolutely right, of course.

ROBERT LASTDRAGER- PO BOX 2591 Fitzroy, Melbourne, Australia 3068
fryuprecords@hotmail.com

The Tommys relaxing between sets.
L-R: Laurie, Lastdrager, Lickliter

Rob Lastdrager is the drummer with Australian surf slackobilly trio The Tommys. The band recently had the single "Thruster" from their debut album "Grow Fins" included on WITR's "Whole Lotta Shakin" compilation. The CD features over 25 surf, garage, and R&R bands primarily from the US, with contributions from around the planet, and is available from Garage-Pop Records out of Rochester, New York. The Tommys track "Grow Fins" has also been released this summer through English label, Colchester Recordings.