THE VENETIC STORY
"Pour les banlieusards de la rue Grivitza, Kir Nicolas était tantôt turc, tantôt grec, ou bien albanais, vu qu’on l’avait entendu parler dans ces langues et qu’il était en relations d’amitié avec des gens appartenant à ces trois races. Mais les commères du faubourg se mettaient plus vite d’accord pour le qualifier de venetic, c’est à dire étranger suspect."
Panaït Istrati - Codine
Line-up:
Wayne Stuart McCallum: Electric and acoustic guitar, vocals, Hammond organ, recorder and precorder,
synthesizers, electronic boxes, Sonette, melodica
Johann Croton: Electric and acoustic guitar, vocals, synthesisers
Joey Esposito: Bass, harmonica, miscellaneous percussion
Ziggy Bukowski: Drums, percussion
So where did it all begin?
It might have been on the day that Wayne Stuart McCallum first met Johann Croton back in infancy.
Or maybe it all started when he came across Joey Esposito sprawled face down on the bar room floor in a Tijuana flophouse.
Actually it may have all begun when he first chatted to Ziggy Bukowski at that night class on Hegelian positivism at the Theosophical Institute and discovered they had a mutual interest in music.
But then again, perhaps it all really started when McCallum got them all together at a Wellington tea house for the first time on that fateful day in January 2002 and incited them to form a band, take on the world and to hell with the consequences.
So where did it all really begin? Buggered if I know.
THE SONGS – COMMENTARY BY W.S. McCALLUM
We’re Through: A nasty song for a nasty person. Which one? There are so many – take your pick.
Never Good Enough: When someone stupid makes themselves feel important by making you feel small.
Ruled With Fear: In a broken home, who is the real victim? Perhaps not the obvious choices.
It’s Not Like: A man with a passive/aggressive response to dependency and self-affirmation can only spell trouble...
My Baby Gets Drunk: A love song for a violent, drunken psychopath, because everyone needs love.
Evil Hoodoo: The ultimate in revenge? Or the deluded ramblings of a paranoid psychotic? You decide.
It’s Tough On The Outside: Following the leader may not get you where you want to go.
What Are You Gonna Do? Get over it boy – get out and mingle a bit why don’t you?
Shallow Girl, Shallow Guy: Because you are just as superficial as the object of your desires.
Going Downtown: The working stiffs’ weekend recreational grind – an extension of their weekday working grind.
You Know: Relationship death and the fatalism it inspires.
Emptiness: Real death and the loneliness it inspires .
You’ll Forget: So you see, it wasn’t worth all that fuss, was it?
Eastern Variations: Because we all have to get mystic some time MA-AN.
Distortion Is Beautiful: The sound of voices whispering in your ear at four in the morning.
Keep Your Feet On The Ground: It’s anything you want it to be really.
Eternally: Because true love really is that creepy.
The Open Road: Because I always wanted to do a reggae album.
Segue: Fragments made into a whole.
Morning Curtain: Lost love in a squalid setting, from the woman’s perspective.
She Walks Away: The cold face of feminine indifference, from the man’s perspective.
Satori At The Picture Show: That moment when you realise you’re wasting your time.
Say What You Want: Yeah, say what you want you two-faced pricks, coz I don’t give a shit.
The Vinyl Hunter: An archetype that is all too real – someone who values 7 and 12-inch records above emotional contact with other human beings. Not without reason though.
Medved: Mental confinement is always more powerful than metal bars.
It’s Time: Paradoxes for someone with the certainty that comes from knowing all the answers.
Gainful Employment: What little people turn into when the State gives them a uniform, guns, and a pretext for causing suffering.
Motor Mower Man: A tale of manic-obsessive kleptomania – have you checked your garden shed recently?
That’s Just The Way Of Things: One who went with the flow, and two who didn’t.
Turn It Around: Escaping from the tyranny of pre-determined life cycles.
Coming Up For...?!? Wishful thinking from a paragon of virtue.
Crazy: That A-grade insanity derived from the rich seam of marriage.
Building Rot Blues: A scream of rage for all the people who got screwed by the building trade, the County Councils, the regulatory authorities and the legal system.
Out On The Tiles: When the cat’s away...
Conformità: Conformità? Va fan culo!
Sans Moi: Left behind and drowning in sorrow.
Clessidra: And the sands of time tumble ever downwards.
How it all ended
Joey
Esposito As if
it wasn’t bad enough that he kept buggering off to Slovenia to hang out with
the bears in the forest, eventually McCallum decided he wanted to move to the
back blocks!
Ziggy
Bukowski I
think McCallum wanted to found a commune or something, with us as his disciples.
Johann
Croton
Let’s just say there were artistic differences and leave it at that... On the
other hand, let’s not – that bastard McCallum kept hogging the limelight. He was
always jealous of the fact I sing better than him, so he never let me do
anything other than backing vocals. It was that and the fact he wouldn’t record
any songs I wrote – his big plan to hog all the royalties flooding in.
Wayne
Stuart McCallum
Yeah, well, there was some discontent in the ranks. I got a bit tired of it all
really. They didn’t know whether they wanted a band leader, a mother or a
wetnurse. And as for all the petty personality bullshit – they’re like a bunch
of whining little kids. After a while, going solo began to look like an
increasingly attractive option.
So where are they now?
Johann Croton
now runs an armadillo ranch in Texas.
Joey Esposito
has gone bush and was last seen searching for a lost Moa colony in Fjordland.
Ziggy Bukowski
spends his days lying face up in a pool of vodka in various strip joints in
Kings Cross – he says it provides you with a better perspective on life.
Daunted but not down,
Wayne Stuart McCallum has started a solo
career…
Web site © Wayne Stuart McCallum 2004-2006