Show Me Your Hands - My Musical Journey

I started playing piano at 7, taught by my aunty. Memorable achievements included learning the Rocky theme song as well as the 12 bar blues - a form I’d return to endlessly. Then I came to self-identify as a synthesiser player (it was the 1980s after all), with my then-state-of-the-art Casio CZ1000, that I still have.

One day, when I was 11 years old, I was walking down the hallway at school and was commanded to put out my hands. I was summarily told I’d be playing double bass (even though I had no clue what it was). That moment changed everything.

The double bass finding me - rather than the other way around - set the pattern for my musical life. It has felt less like a calling than a destiny, and one I don’t fully control. There are times when I wished that my music career was a bigger part of my life, but I’m thankful for my relationship with music now: more than a hobby, but not something I have to suffer or resent - which I fear would be inevitable at either end of the success scale when it comes to being a professional musician.

I was classically trained on double bass during my school years, but I never really had the chops or the aspiration to pursue a conservatory education. The same uncle who facilitated my purchase of the CZ1000 stewarded my later purchase of my Fender Squier electric bass. I remember it was $415 and I put literally every cent I had into paying for it - evidenced by a plastic bag of coins strewn over the counter at the music store. As we were finalising the purchase, my uncle played the riff from Smoke on the Water. Hearing that riff lit something up inside me - rock’n’roll injected straight into my veins. I would go on to spend countless hours noodling on that bass in my bedroom throughout my teens, and many a lunchtime at high school was spent jamming with friends trying to perfect the elusive bass intro to Sweet Child O’ Mine.

Shortly after high school I started gigging in a rock band called Lunacy with my best mate Mandla and Dion, the son of my double bass teacher. Perth, the most isolated capital city in the world, lived up to its reputation. But it had the magic of being its own microcosm. In a pre-internet world, we took influences from afar and somehow blended them into what felt like a thriving scene.

One of my favourite bands to watch was Thermos Cardy, and when their bass player left I was asked to join, and that was the start of Sodastream. Another sliding doors moment that shaped my musical destiny.

Karl and I have maintained a wonderful friendship and musical partnership for almost 30 years now. We have travelled the world extensively together and have supported each other as we’ve established our families and lives. I feel incredibly fortunate that we get to keep playing music together - not in a nostalgic way, but always seeking out and opening up new frontiers.

Along the way, I’ve had the opportunity to play with many bands as a guest musician, and sometimes as a member. These moments of connection are precious to me, and transcend mere friendship.

I hope this account of my musical journey is only half done, and that there are many more chapters to add.