DENIS by BLONDIE. Story by Robert Lastdrager.

A love letter to the drums

Evans Head, NSW 1970                                                                    

As a six-year-old boy on a beach holiday, my family and I attended an evening festival. Each child received a paper lantern illuminated by candlelight held at length with a stick. After a few minutes walking in the parade of children my lantern became engulfed in flames and dissolved into ash before my eyes. To avert a childish meltdown, a new lantern was quickly provided and lit. However, nobody could find a stick in the dark. At that moment the drummer from the touring band that was the evening’s entertainment passed by and offered me one of his drumsticks. My mother told me years later the band was called Chain.

And so, my obsession with the drums began, further fueled by my parents rousing me from sleep to watch an old black and white movie, The Gene Krupa Story on late night TV. With Sal Mineo in the lead role as the iconic big band drummer, I sat there in my pyjamas with my plate of cheese and crackers, utterly transfixed.

On my thirteenth birthday I arrived home from school to find a beautiful white mother of pearl Coral drum kit set up in the lounge room with a cluster of family listening to my Dutch uncle whip those drums into shape. I was frozen with fear. Nevertheless, I gave them a whack here and there before moving them into my bedroom. I sat before them and just marveled, before playing along to my Blondie 7-inch single Denis as loud as my record player could go.

As a cocky 17-year-old I made a reverential pilgrimage to the Drouyn drum factory in Stones Corner, Brisbane to price a custom-built kit. I had worshipped Drouyn drums from afar and been in awe of the bands who used them, like surf instrumental icons the Atlantics and the Oils. The place was unforgettable, like Santa’s workshop. Old men in leather aprons stood ankle deep in wood shavings. The drum makers were gracious and polite, sensing my aspirations far exceeded the size of my wallet.

Then, during my second week at Teachers College in Brisbane, I heard the Easybeats track Friday On My Mind booming through the walls from the class next door. My life’s trajectory was forever changed from that moment. Within a week I was headed solo to Sydney with a car full of drums and $400 in my pocket. For the next 30 years I was fortunate enough to play, record, travel and tour the world, finally settling down in Melbourne to raise a family. Gradually the gigs dried up and the drums got packed away, until a call out of the blue late December 2023. “Hey, do you want to get the band back together?”

Our first rehearsal was a cacophony of muscle memory gone wrong. But by our second meeting the stars had aligned, and we started to play with real vigor and confidence. What unfolded in 2024 was a wonderful rock and rollercoaster ride of domestic and international touring.

It began with numerous small club and pub shows around inner Melbourne before we were offered the support slot on the Cambodian Space Project’s April Australian tour, which included dates in regional Victoria and NSW, including a sold-out show at Sydney’s Marrickville Bowling Club. There we received the greatest compliment any band could ever hope for: Vietnamese Australian chanteuse and Kung Fu Martial arts teacher Dang Lan declared “THE TOMMYS MAKE MY BLOOD BOIL!!” An offer to join the Cambodian Space Project in May followed, this time to play Garage Fest Cambodia, touring for an incredible 10 days around the Kingdom of Wonder.

By November we headed into Sound Park analogue studios in Melbourne to record two new tracks for a vinyl 45 release Born To Follow/Window Pane” to be launched at the Old Bar in Fitzroy, Melbourne on Saturday June 7^th from 4-6 pm.

Thinking back to that six-year-old boy on a beach holiday over 50 years ago, that paper lantern lit a fire in me that’s still burning.

Stereo Story 844