How Did This Perth Poet Get On The Soundwave Bill?

In the wake of Hardcore Superstar's withdrawal from this year's Soundwave festival, Perth man Gareth Williams – soon to be known widely as the Heavy Metal Poet – fired off a spur-of-the-moment tweet to event organiser AJ Maddah. Within hours, he found himself in the middle of the musical equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting.

This story is about rock'n'roll, but let's start with some business.

You see, one of the fundamental principles in business, which anyone misguided enough to ever do a degree in such a field knows better than their own mother's birthday, is that risk equals return. That is, the lesser the risk, the lesser the return, and vice versa. 

Naturally, this idea extends to other areas of life: risk diabetes, gain culinary freedom; risk chlamydia, gain kinky group sex; risk soul, gain prime ministership – you get the idea. It's a universal truth.

So, when self-described metalhead and father-of-two Gareth Williams saw that Swedish hard rock band Hardcore Superstar had pulled out of the Soundwave festival citing concerns over (what they saw as) their too-early slot, he did something that many of us have probably thought about doing in similar circumstances but lacked the brass content in our balls to do so – he straight-up offered to fill in, in 140 characters or less, directly to festival boss AJ Maddah himself.

“It was a snap decision; I was running on pure instinct, if that's the right word,” Williams tells theMusic.com.au from his home in Perth. “I have always liked to entertain people, so it was a matter of 'here goes nothing'!

“Actually, I saw AJ's tweet and wasn't familiar at all with Hardcore Superstar or what music they played, and after reading a lot of the tweets in response I realized that not many other people did, either. So I thought – no, scratch that; didn't think, just reacted – and it paid off.”

“Paid off” is right, too. Maddah may be many things, but regardless of personal opinions of the man, you can inarguably count “super game” among his qualities – especially considering Williams' offer was to perform The Rime of the Ancient Mariner – no, not the Iron Maiden song, although Williams professes to have been a diehard fan since first hearing The Number of the Beast as a 10-year-old, but a full-length dramatic reading of Samuel Taylor Coleridge's 1797-98 poem of the same name. So it was a pretty ballsy move on Maddah's part, especially considering the only interaction the pair have ever shared has been via Twitter.

“I have only ever conversed with AJ on Twitter,” Williams says. “He's a prolific tweeter and almost always answers reasonable questions and comments. We've tweeted back and forth over the last few years, sometimes about music and sometimes about random shit. I've seen him give people tickets to sidewaves and organised to help them out, so he's a genuinely nice guy and seems to use Twitter as it should be by connecting with people.” 

Or, as it turns out, forcing people to step up and play that big game they love to talk. Certainly, Williams – despite being a seasoned performer himself – wasn't expecting Maddah to take him up on his offer.

“My head spun. I took a deep breath.  Thought, 'This is just crazy enough to work',” he says of realising that Maddah was serious about having him perform the poem.

“I took a screenshot of the tweets and texted my girlfriend with the news that I'd been booked. It was, and still is, so surreal. I feel like I'm in the middle a rock'n'roll Salvador Dali painting.”

So what, exactly, drove Williams to suggest – of all things – reading 18th -century poetry where people were expecting whatever Swedish hard rock looks like instead?

“It's one of my favourite Iron Maiden songs, and it just happens to be based on a kick-arse poem,” he enthuses. “Like a lot of metal music, it's dark and scary – with a body count in the hundreds.

“My first tweet to AJ mashed lyrics from Number of The Beast and The Rime of the Ancient Mariner – with tongue firmly in cheek – and it got his attention.

“I knew the poem ran about 25-30 minutes when recited, so it was a perfect fit for the half-hour time allotted. It just made sense. 

“That all raced through my head in the time it took to tap out the tweet and press 'send'.”

What you can't explain in the space of a tweet, though, is the actual content of the poem. Aside from being famously responsible for the now-ingrained idea of having an “albatross around one's neck”, it's not exactly what you'd call a “small” piece of prose. Rather, it is - if you'll excuse the internet-sullied connotations of the originally extremely poetic word - an epic.

“Yeah, it's long as balls, over seven parts; it's a mammoth poem!” Williams declares. “The poem encapsulates a mariner's return from a long and harrowing journey; his narration to a wedding guest and the shift in tone from danger to serenity, the supernatural and romance makes it one of literature's most compelling, and longest, pieces of prose.  Historically, it also marked the shift to modern poetry, so it holds an important place in literature's oeuvre.

“There's a connection to Australia through the symbolic placement of an albatross, so [that's] really nice.”

Naturally, with such a voluminous body of work in front of him, Williams says he is “working like a demon” to memorise as much of the poem as he can – “But I'll also have notes – and by 'notes' I mean 'the entire poem'!” he laughs.

Given the nature of the festival, and his own lifelong love of music with a metallic edge, Williams is planning on doing more than just committing poetry on an unsuspecting audience. 

“I'm working on some backing music, tossing up between looping the bass instrumental from the Iron Maiden track or using a piece by composer Phillip Glass,” he says. “Though whether Soundwave is quite ready for poetry and classical music, only time will tell.

“It'll also depend on how much artistic freedom I get, and as I am a last-minute unpaid addition I'll just do as I'm told.  Visually, I'm thinking of going with a ragged, hooded black cloak and a big, red, leather-bound book. There may well be copious amounts of page-tearing and flourishes as they're tossed aside.

“Being a ginger and knowing that we die when exposed to sunlight, the hoodie could well be a life-saver.”

All that said, with his moment awaiting him, Williams will be more than pleased with just a working microphone and an abuse-free stint on-stage.

“I'm reciting 18th-century poetry at a punk and metal festival, so I expect it to 'sink down like lead into the sea' … or be a cult-like success, which, through word of mouth, leads to world domination,” he says.

“If people turn up expecting Hardcore Superstar, they'll be in for a surprise. But I'll just be happy if people think it's a cool thing and I avoid someone throwing a plastic cup of warm WA beer at me.

“But … regardless on how it turns out if I get bitten by the bug again I may just end up back on stage wearing rags, wondering where the groupies are and demanding my backstage rider.”

So let this be a lesson, kids – forget “be careful what you tweet”; tweet recklessly. Tweet recklessly as hell, because you never know – you too might find yourself suddenly achieving your rock'n'roll festival dreams. 

Probably not, though.

The Heavy Metal Poet plays Perth Soundwave, Arena Joondalup, stage 6A, 11.30am, Monday, March 3.