The Balladeer Hunter
An incurable sense of romanticism pervades the second solo album by Drones drummer Mike Noga, writes REN? SCHAEFER.
?All I want is some truth. So I hope you hear the passion my little band and myself poured into these songs.? So writes Mike Noga in the press release that accompanies The Balladeer Hunter, his second solo album. The truth he speaks of is not just an emotional honesty in the writing, but equally encompasses the process of recording: ?Upon flicking through the FM dial with reckless abandon one day, it occurred to me that no matter how hard I looked, I could not, for the life of me, find any true SOUL in the songs that were being handed back to me on a static plate – To hear the squeak of a kick drum pedal or the clang of a steel string. All these wonderful truths that are processed out of today’s throw-away, passionless, bubble gum, factory production, copy cat world of rock and pop.?
It is a romantic notion that sonic bareness, a return to basics if you will, equates to artistic authenticity. In many a trickster’s hands it has even become a conceit. One only need to listen to the glut of artificial lo-fi effects that pepper many an indie band’s recordings to realise that the fake and the real have become indistinguishable – even to the most discerning ear. The question is not so much whether it matters in the over-all scheme of things, but why it should matter to an artist like Noga.
Piss On A Butterfly by Mike Noga
Being an incurable romantic is part of it. Romance in this sense denotes a desire to connect with other people, to communicate something that could not be expressed in any other way other than through words and sounds. This is what motivates songwriters to keep writing in the first place. This desire to connect almost becomes a physical need. In Noga’s case it’s what motivated him to step out from behind the drum kit he’s been bashing with great emotional power with the likes of Puppy Fat, Sandro, Legends Of Motorsport, The Drones and Mick Turner.
Noga’s first album Folk Songs (2005) was a sparse and restrained effort, which lived up to its title with an acoustic directness that highlighted his storytelling. Its tales of soldiers, convicts and marginal characters had a distinct Australian bent to them, and it was clear that, as a writer, Noga was a man born out of time, or maybe beyond time. The traditional ballad form suited his sweetly broad Australian accent and his stage presence – an intense man with an acoustic guitar and harmonica – harked back straight to the age of pre-electric Dylan.
This return to roots is tempered somewhat on The Balladeer Hunter. Musically, it’s more varied than its predecessor, exploring different moods and ways to arrange its straightforward acoustic instrumentation. There isn’t an electric guitar in earshot, thus distinguishing this group of songs from his now defunct band The Gentlemen Of Fortune. The restrained contributions of The Gents? rhythm section – Pat Bourke (Dallas Crane) on bass and Gus Agars (The Gin Club) on drums – nevertheless are crucial. Noga limits himself to strumming or finger-picking chords on his guitar, leaving the spotlight to the masterful violin of Jen Anderson – surely one of Australia’s most accomplished instrumentalists since making her name in Weddings Parties Anything. Her considered contributions lift songs like ?A Long Week? and ?Eileen?, without resorting to schmaltz.
?Musically, it’s more varied than its predecessor, exploring different moods and ways to arrange its straightforward acoustic instrumentation.?
On ?M’Belle?, Noga rips out a brief harmonica solo, while clanking percussion and sparse guitar evoke Nebraska-era Bruce Springsteen. ?The Cold Year? could almost be described as bouncy, and there is an undeniable WPA influence creeping in. ?Ballad Of An Ordinary Man? lends a certain dignity to everyday experience. It’s all in Noga’s turns of phrase – at once plain, yet resonant with poetry. His straightforwardness does not extend to narrative structure. The listener has to work with the song to extract its meaning or context. ?Eileen? unfolds in a more traditional way, as an address to the eponymous lover, but crucially withholds the reason for the beloved’s absence. Noga calls it an Irish murder ballad.
?Piss On A Butterfly? is a string of abstract invective directed at pop music culture, with lyrical references to some of Noga’s musical heroes. Apparently he’s offering $20 to anyone who can spot all four of them. On ?Rothko?, ostensibly a paean to a painting, Noga truly shines, spurred on by the depth of feeling inspired by art and love and whatever else he might be singing about here. ?I Will Have Nothing? is the singer’s most direct lyric and probably the most personal. It’s a reminder that the work of an artist, especially a musician, will for ever remain ephemeral, and its worth intangible.
Tellingly, the most musically forceful inclusion on the album is a cover of Sandro’s ?Walk With Me?, a song originally written by Gareth Edwards (The Holy Rose). Musically reminiscent to some extent of the Leadbelly song ?Where Did You Sleep Last Night??, it was one of Sandro’s most searing numbers, a showstopper with a darkly distorted guitar and Noga’s jackhammer drums and eerie vocal harmonies backing up Edwards? swooping howl. Noga’s re-interpretation strips the original of some of its dense claustrophobia, but retains its feeling of menace. It’s a brave choice of cover, as Edwards is possessed of a very unique voice and vocal phrasing, which even the most skilled singer would struggle to do justice. Noga pulls it off with his less-is-more approach though and seamlessly fits it into a classy collection of songs.
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####Mike Noga launches ?The Balladeer Hunter? at The Toff in Town in Melbourne this Saturday (May 7).