It’s been a bit of a shit of a year for me, so far, 2022.
Nothing terrible external has happened – I’m sure those who’ve lost homes in floods would rather be in my shoes – but I’ve been as anxious as I’ve ever been at times. Many of you will know, I have generalised anxiety disorder, for which I’m medicated. It basically means I tend to experience anxiety at a level that someone without GAD typically would not – I get overly anxious, for extended periods of time, about things that are irrational. Sometimes I can help it, sometimes not. For most of this year, it’s felt like I’ve been fighting a war of attrition.
It has caused immense frustration and despair. I started seeing my psych in 2013 at 23. I’m now 31. I work for an emotional intelligence and preventative mental health charity. Why the fuck am I struggling so much? Shouldn’t I be better now? How pathetic!
I want to make this clear – I’m not saying this for sympathy and I’m not after a pity party. It’s just been my experience of a lot of this year so far. Sometimes I’ve felt so anxious I’ve struggled to work or I haven’t eaten until dinner. There’s been a few inconsistent periods where I’ve felt better; more myself, empowered and strong. And then, boom, left in a Lurch and a Slump. Un-Slumping yourself is not easily done.
But to the whole point of this blog post – a thank you to seminal Australian alt rock band, Something for Kate.
A few weeks ago at the Forum, SFK, as they’re sometimes known, gave me a few moments of respite on a really fucking hard night.
I’ve got a long history with Something for Kate. It started with So Fresh The Hits of Spring 2001, perhaps the most famous of that compilation series (did you know it’s still going?! They’re still releasing four CDs a year!) with its iconic green cover. I bought that CD cos it had “Drops of Jupiter”, the censored version of “Purple Pills”, “Ride wit Me” and “Let’s Get Married” on it. One of the interesting things about So Fresh compilations at the time was that in the back quarter of the record they’d usually stick a few more alternative tunes. “Monsters”, SFK’s moving paean to depression, was one of those. I heard it and it tugged at something in me, in a way that music I’d been into prior to that point hadn’t. Then I saw the film clip on Rage. Paul, Stephanie and Clint, walking down a chaotic city street, steadfastly putting one foot in front of the other, in spite of the obstacles.
“Monsters” was on Echolalia, perhaps my second-favourite Australian record of all-time (not many albums from any continent can top Since I Left You), alongside other amazing singles like “Three Dimensions”, “Twenty Years” and “Say Something”.
I fell more in love with Something for Kate when Paul Dempsey released his first solo album in 2009, Everything is True, an absolute masterpiece that I hold dear to my heart to this day. I first saw him live at a bar in Geelong with Meagan and Aimee, and in the decade-plus since I’ve seen him or SFK at least 10 times, the most I’ve seen any artist (yes, even more than U2, whom I’ve seen eight times).
Anyway, the show at the Forum was a special one. It had been rescheduled twice due to you-know-what, and part of an Aussie run billed as the Echolalia–Modern Medieval tour; the 20th anniversary of the former and a promotion of the latter, their newest record. The first hour was a full rendition of Echolalia (which is named after a condition in which people, more commonly autistic children, repeat words or phrases in the very same order or tone they have been heard).
As I sat down with my $23 double-pour red wine, I felt tears well.
“You keep trying to show us / how you can carry 50 times your own weight…”
Ooph. That one gets me. It’s from “Stunt Show”, a clever little allegory.
“How will you get yourself out of this one?”
Yeah, fuck, Paul. I’ve been wondering that myself all year. First tear drops.
Up next is “Three Dimensions”, an anxious rocker with a fucking gorgeous, uplifting chorus. Paul’s passioned singing and soaring guitar, the comforting piano line, the catharsis of the final chorus, after our protagonist gets through a bout of echolalia himself. The otherworldly coda. The music just hit me, man. I don’t even relate to the lyrics much, the music was just exactly what I needed in that moment. Proper crying now.
Then came the third track, “Jerry, Stand Up”. Here’s where I really lost it. The second verse in particular.
“Am I the only one who’s noticed that you’ve been missing? Remember yourself, man – remember that you have chance and possibility.”
Fuck. That feels like the pat on the back I’ve been needing to give myself all year.
“All you need is fresh air / a nice, new suit / a walk in the park, every day or two…”
Of course the tears gushed during “Monsters”, and then again during “You Only Hide”, “Twenty Years”, “Happy Endings”. The Echolalia set closed with “White”, a good song, but hitherto not a favourite. But it was an absolute face-melter live. Paul really fucking shred(ded?) his guitar, buckled over, sending it alongside Clint, one of the hardest hammerers in the business, and his wife Stephanie, barefoot and fucking slaying on bass as she always does.
The second set, somehow, was even better than the first. Throughout the first set Paul was pretty quiet. He can be quite loquacious live, in his own shy way, but they really ripped through Echolalia. As a result, it was perhaps the least unique, intimate Paul/SFK gig I’ve seen, but it was definitely the most robust, consistent, most fuck-yeah-this-is-a-fucking-great-show gig of theirs I’ve ever seen.
The new songs were stellar. “Situation Room”, one of the lead singles that is pretty pleasant on record, took on a whole new, revelatory life, “Come Back Before I Come Back to My Senses” had killer energy, and “Supercomputer” brought plenty of feels.
“I know that you keep everything in a room / behind a bookcase / on a supercomputer…”
“I know that when you dream / you’re at your parents house / and you can’t get out of the car…”
With a few songs to go they played a fucking stonking version of their excellent Taylor Swift cover – seriously, there is no better artist on earth better at covers than Paul Dempsey – and then, as if I hadn’t cried enough, “Heroes”.
Fuck me dead. I’ve told a few people that I’ve been fortunate to not experience a lot of genuine grief in my lifetime, and that the last time I feel like I truly grieved was when Bowie died. So to hear one of my favourite artists ever, covering another favourite, jesus christ. We can be heroes, just for one day. What ya say.
Ever the showpeople, the show closed with their oldest hit and crowd favourite, “Captain (Million Miles An Hour)”. From their first album, Elsewhere for Eight Minutes, it’s about escape, respite and release and, for a handful of moments last Thursday night, that’s exactly what I got.
“It’s just a model / built with plastic and with glue / but every day I go down to the airport / and I fly away from, I fly away from you…”
Paul, Stephanie, Clint and the rest, thank you.
Obviously one of the reasons I write is because I want people to read and share their thoughts and experiences back with me. Part of it is me seeking validation. Of my writing, of my experiences. But I’ve realised more recently that the real reason I write now is for myself. It’s therapeutic. A part of me would have been hurt in the past, writing all this, posting it, and then only getting one or two comments back. But I’m doing it more for me. And this has been really nice to document. If you get this far, would love to hear any reflections, whether you related to any of it, but really, I just wanna give witness to a moment in time and thank a great band for helping me in the moment. Cheers.
(PS – I reckon Thomas Bangalter, Alan Braxe and Benjamin Diamond, aka Stardust, stole the idea for the film clip to “Music Sounds Better With You” (1998) from “Captain” (1997). What do you reckon?)
ramblings from djp 