STARTING BIGSOUND WITH BEERS

IT'S ON...

BigSound 2011 kicks off as it ended last year, sort of hazy and beer-addled. Last night's opening bash was held at the uber-fancy Laruche – the only time of year when people like myself are granted access to the luxurious surrounds – and then kicked on to a number of unofficial pre-BigSound showcases. Musical highlight definitely Graveyard Train, particularly old mate whose musical acumen extends to bashing on a massive chain with a hammer, giving hope to the rest of us that maybe being in an awesome band isn't yet out of the question…

Media Breakfast this morning – the cream of Australia's musical scribes who are attending this year gathered together in a cafe for free coffee and bacon and eggs, good to catch up with some familiar faces. Indeed, catching up with familiar friends and foe is a perpetual motif at BigSound, and this year has certainly been no different so far…

Skipped opening keynote because already had the chance to interview Alan McGee myself and needed to get some work housekeeping done, but caught tailend of The Future Is Now panel, in which a number of forward-thinking industry types discuss the present and future of the game, seeming to focus mainly on the technological advancements and new models of music dissemination. Very interesting but still not quite clear on what is going to definitely happen going forward in terms of people accessing the music they want to hear. Music is going to be a lot easier to access is the bottom line… I'm a luddite, give me a physical album every time…

Saw paid presentation of new Posse.com Amway-type model of getting the geekier fans to do the legwork for bands, a model that seems destined to work less as it becomes more popular as people fight for what will be an inherently shrinking slice of pie and people get sick of their “friends” spamming them for profit. “I have no mates left but I saw Gyroscope do an exclusive soundcheck”, that sorta thing. Used American statistics about how people find out about gigs and applied that to Australian market, slightly disingenuous but at least 'proved' the point trying to be made.

Back to the grindstone…

WEDNESDAY BREAK MY HEART

A great day had by all, what a kick off for BigSound 2011. The afternoon kicks off with a great face-to-face interview with Lanie Lane about her impending debut album To The Horses – which is a real cracker – for a forthcoming cover story. Such a lovely lady and a brilliant songwriter to boot, her tales of being whisked away to record with Jack White in Nashville fantastic (“he's taller than you think”).

Catch up with a heap of people in town for the conference, and next thing you know it's time to start the parties. Spoiled for choice, decide to head to the NZ Music Commision Party at Bakery Lane, because (a) they have a cool line-up playing, and (b) I really loved hanging out at that venue last year, it's a stage set up in a cool old lane in the Valley. The beers are flowing (and free) and there's a great turnout, and we catch the last few songs from Kiwi songstress Tiny Ruins, all beautiful melancholy armed only with an acoustic guitar, a gorgeous and a clutch of lovely tunes.

After a quick changeover some familar faces take the stage, but in an unfamiliar format: The Adults (pictured). Shihad frontman Jon Toogood is looking dapper and as mature as his band name suggests, while Flying Nun veteran Shayne Carter (him from Straightjacket Fits) and Julia Deans (she of Fur Patrol) and a drum machine round out the line-up. it's sultry and a total change from Toogood's usually frenetic outpurings, with songs like One Million Ways getting toes tapping, although there are some furrowed brows and perplexed expressions as people try to get their heads around this new mutation. Instrument swapping is the norm rather than the exception as the trio move between guitar, bass and keys – it's truly odd seeing Jonny T on bass – and Carter shreds perfectly when it's his turn on the six-string during the admiitedly “pretentious” b-side The Middle Of The Universe Pt I. Toogood throws some weird shapes and gets about 2/3s of the way through taking off his shirt – much to the delight of the many punters who had predicted this happening – and they finish with Ladi6 co-write Please Wake Up.

We stay for a few songs of Street Chant – a young punk trio with a male drummer keeping the beat for a couple of ladies, and who – despite looking either nervous or just incredulous – offer up some catchy, fast-paced tunes. There's some exuberant dancing up the front and one young buck seems to be earning the ire of the security guard but sense prevails, and the trio impress a few with their set – a fair bit to like on first offering.

We've met a heap of new friends at the bash but it's time to meet some familiar faces for a food break, and a large contingent gathers at local Chinese rock haunt Super Bowl. Local reprobate Ben Salter heads the fray, alongside fellow Gin Clubbers Conor and Bridget, uber-producer Magoo and a smattering of other delegates and general dignitaries. Much food is consumed, much hilarity enjoyed by all and a lot more drinks partaken in, much to my liver's chagrin.

Now for the first batch of showcases: anecdotal evidence suggests that the crowd for Adalita is too big to bother making the relatively long trek there 9in relaity nothing is futher than a two-minute stagger from anywhere else), so we head to the neewly re-opened and re-christened Black Bear Lodge, still the spirtual home of music in the Valley from its previous guise as The Troubadour. The interior has been refurbished and the bar extended, and tonight is the first night since it reopened a month or so ago where (in my presence at least) they've had music playing on the old stage, and expereiencing the familiar old configuration where I saw some of my fravourite gigs from the last 7-8 years was nearly enough to bring a tear to my eye (if my tear ducts weren't dehydrated from drinking so much). Sit through a few songs from perth outfit Split Seconds who seem okay, but after a short break local miscreant Ben Salter takes the stage with his new band and begins showcasing tracks from his fantatsic debut solo album The Cat. [Disclaimer: I don't know the protocol on such matters in the 'blogosphere', but just so all the PC music nazis out there don't have kittens and start crying about 'conflict of interest' I'd better throw in that Mr Salter and I are very close friends and share a house together. It's even a home, but not in that way.] Anyhoo, Salts is the greatest musician since sliced bread and you should all buy multiple copies of his album. Whatever. It's great to see Dale from the much-missed Dollar Bar back in action augmenting Salts, and they play a swag of songs such as The Coward, Opportunities and the epic West End Girls to a massive and adoring throng, before they finish with – what I presume arrogantly but probably correctly to be a nod to yours truly – with a rollicking cover of the Guided By Voices classic Teenage FBI. I've seen Salts play 1.4 million times in his different guises – I managed his proper band Giants Of science for far too long for starters – and I never get bored with it, testament to his awesomenss. Suck it up…

We don't have to go anywhere to see the next hot act on the showcase bill, and it seems many have the same idea because a huge crowd stays in attaendance to see the solo performance by burgeoning Sydney songstress Lanie Lane. Her voice is incredible and her old-timey songs intxicating, and she has the crowd eating out of the plam of her hand from the outset with her sultry demeanour. But it's the songs that are the real winners, Jungle Man, ?That's What You Get?? and cracking recent stand-alone single Ain't Hungry getting toes tapping and dials smiling throughout the packed room. It's just her and a guitar but no bells and whistles are needed as she moves through Don't Cry, What Do I Do and the crowd-pleasing Bang Bang to finish a fantatsic set – watch this space, this gal is going places…

We head over to the packed but welcoming confines of Ric's Bar to see a solo performance by Mike Noga, best know as skinsman for Melbourne legends The Drones, but who is gradually and methodically forging himself a well-earned reputation as a formidable songwriter and performer in his own right. His recent album The Balladeer Hunter has been – despite its somewhat cringeworthy title – one of my favourite and most-listened to Australian releases of the year so far, and he brings the love tonight in solo mode, augmented only by lovely local violinist Phillipa (who also helped him out on the local album launch a few months back). Noga is soon joined onstage by area nemesis Ben Salter (who is now officially trending on this blog, and yes I know Mr Noga too) for a sterling rendition of stirring older tune All My Friends Are Alcoholics, and the set eventually concludes with a beautiful rendition of the moving M'Belle.

Despite having access to free booze we decide to to the right thing and pull up stumps relatively early given the daunting amount of both alcohol- and work-related obligations we're facing in the next couple of days, so it's off to the taxi rank to head home and get some rest for tomorrow's no doubt harrowing shenanigans. Stay tuned…