Time is a river
High in the mountains two youthful tributaries crash together
at the meeting point Mufface clings to rock with his butt cheeks
Knuckles white with determination to hold this eternal moment
The Groupie Funkers are in the pool
The crowd is waiting
The second call has gone out
With his dry hand he passes the joint to Shandar who is mustering punk courage to pretend he knows what he is doing
“play something we can dance too” insists Soma
Sassafras tentatively edges out of the pool careful not to slip on the algae again
Mufface turns around and Shandar is gone.
Mufface busies himself with other things.
More than a decade downstream Shandar is paddling in a big energetic river
It gurgles songs all around him
There are 16 in the boat and several more on the hook
Shandar has refined his craft and built confidence over the years
He sighs and navigates the band, now evolved into Gentrified Ferals, into a back edie
Calm water
dalatj gapu
eternity is reflected in pools of memory
He calms the riot in his mind and prepares to time travel
summon that moment to find him
That rock where the waters meet
The ripples of the present die away
He sees it
He is there
Mufface looks bedraggled
Hangdog wet hair with the weight of time
Something like terror and rage in a glint in the eye
A slight shiver from so long in meltwater
The joint is long soaked and useless
Nostalgia is youth culture’s sedative against the pain of time
It prevents seeking the cure of the wisdom of age
Evolution respects being becoming
Has been is extinction
“c’mon buddy, I need you on board” asks Shandar again
This time travel is starting to feel like groundhog day
Shandar has resolved this is the last attempt to get Mufface back on board.
“but this is our band! Here! I wont let you take it from me!”
The two tributaries look similar at this point in the river
Water gushing over, between and under rock
Shandar knows his own past well but he can only guess at what lies upstream where his friend flows from.
It is hard to gauge the depth and volume beneath the waves of superlatives
He continues upstream to his own sources
The labyrinth of tarns perched in the mountains of Tasmania
Where geological time dissolves the human moment
It occurs to him that this is not a gift all tributaries offer
Each has its own unique composition
It is better to combine strengths than weaknesses
“I am so proud of this rock!” declares Mufface
Shandar has lost count of the number of times Mufface has used the word pride in these conversations. It does not sit easily with him, he loves this rock and what flows from it but there is great danger in pride.
“its funny you keep using that word, you know Shandar is Sanskrit for pride don’t you”
“I didn’t know that” but it has been said a number of times before, either forgotten or not heard. Shandar can be a cacophony of ideas at times.
He chose his stage name, the deadliest of the deadly sins, as a mediation on what must eventually be transcended. A bridge to self-belief for an introvert but ultimately something to be left behind with the ego of the mortal self. At times it gives cover for arrogance.
Shandar looks back to the past and wonders at what point Mufface fell out. Was it the very beginning and they failed to notice while their egos overlapped? A moment of hurt pride along the way undetected? What is the relationship between pride and vanity and has Shandars growing artistic ego overcrowded the vessel leaving Mufface to slowly starve? Is the situation just the inevitable outcome of their different relationships with time?
“Its about the music not the name” Pedals counselled. The music is a continuum of evolution’s dance.
Mufface does not budge from his rock insisting the band of the past is not the band of the future. Is it the name or is that just symbolic of something deeper? Shandar is equally stubborn and feels Mufface is trying to deny the band its past. Downstream Gentrified Ferals drift as they waste time and energy arm-wrestling. Their first EP is out today. These two were once the engine room.
They struggle for a shared understanding of passive-aggressive communications. Mufface seems to think it is being passive and then being aggressive. Shandar uses the phrase ‘insidious recalcitrance’ to describe an attempt to inflict will without direct confrontation. Shandar wonders if casting the situation into the mythic language of the eternal river is passive aggressive or the direct assault on a situation that he prefers in his writing. Either way the ritual of spelling it out sets him free to move on. Mufface wants Shandar to lower his expectations and be grateful for the past contributions and when he turns up to occasional rehearsals and gigs in a new band.
Shandar returns to the moment between past and future and settles back into Gentrified Feral at the back of vessel and put his paddle in the water.
Today Droidtown is released
He looks ahead and navigates out into the river.
Mufface is not on board
He said he will join later
The water begins to lap against the bow as the current quickens
There are songs beautifully packaged in mixing boxes woven together in a grand narrative in the cargo hold
They fill him with love, gratitude and excitement
The whisper of the river breaks the melancholia spell
he looks up and sees all the other tributaries flowing into the river
musicians scattered around the country as we go in and out of lockdown
they politely cough, gently remind Shandar they are happy to be Gentrified Ferals and share his excitement. He is not alone and should stop looking at his navel.
once we sang
"just one river
so many tributaries
flowing to the ocean
this is eternity"
it is one of our creation songs
Today we release the Droidtown EP
a base chakra affair
the first of a 4 part song cycle that we hope you find as honest and insightful as they are rambunctious and cheeky
hope you get on board
rock this boat with dance
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