We’d run out of petrol returning from Mildura. Mobile phones were an invention of the future. We couldn’t even see a house light in the distance, let alone a public phone.
We never rehearsed, or even discussed what we would play; we just dove into the river of music and let it carry us along. Ross' playing was so in the moment, and each time we performed it felt like it was for the first time.
…the crash site, barrel-rolled down the hill at 100 Ks an hour, a miracle we both walked away over a year ago now, sorry for the van, I hate Grafton now…
If this music was represented in colour, the canopies of the African jungle would be peeled back, revealing the beauty of the sweaty noise.
Head to the Flem-Ken Bowls Club this Thursday night for an evening of Midnight Oil memories.
Celebrate the Oils at a spoken-word event at the Flem-Ken Bowls Club on Thursday evening 2 November, just a few days before the Oils hit Hanging Rock and then Melbourne town.
Hey Little Girl does not remind me of anybody in particular. But it reminds me of Madrid. It’s what I heard at that moment, when I needed to hear something just like it, when I was between jobs and almost broke.