Fireside Fancies from Wahluu ‘Ah, White Man, Have You Any Sacred Sites?’ - Denis Kevans Last Fireside Fancy. Thanks to those who’ve been tuning in…! Thought I’d end the series with my favourite poem. Yindyamarra Winhanganha.

‘The Shearers’ - Henry Lawson (1901) Written while in London, ten thousand miles from his beloved wattle, as the federation he fought so hard for was finally achieved at home. You can hear every one of those aching miles in between these lines. One line has aged badly, but there is too much fine fine spirit in this poem to let it fade. Always was, always will be Aboriginal land. There is precisely no ill heart in the line. But I’ll use my time-machine to go back, bring you now Harry, and show you - not only how true it is, but how much of Australia you wrote into existence, is good to the extent that it IS true. I didn’t know you Harry, but I know you well enough to feel the joy and ambition in the legend. I pray in time we’ll continue to get to the rest - always was, always will be. Yindyamarra Winhanganha.

‘The Sandy Hollow Line’ H. P. C. ‘Duke’ Tritton Duke is one of our great guiding lights. We owe him so much! He was one of our greatest singers and tradition bearers - arguably the single biggest link in the chain between real bush songs, and the folk revival. This poem is very powerful! As John Dengate used to say, “He didn’t write many - but when he did, he wrote good ones!” Duke certainly knew what he was writing about - first-hand! This is one of three works we’ll be performing at the big ITUC Congress, Melbourne Exhibition Centre in a couple of weeks. We’re tremendously happy for the three works - one each from Denis Kevans, Duke Tritton, and Glen Tomsetti - to be on that stage! We also get to lead the big global mob in Solidarity Forever for the finale - that will be fun! Duke’s ‘Time Means Tucker’ is an outstanding book, well worth the read and re-read. It’s near impossible to find now - but please do let me know if you’d like an ebook version.

‘A Man Was Killed in the Mine Today’ Words: Tom ‘Crosscut’ Wilson (1907) Tune: Bob Rummery Another of Bob’s settings tonight. This was actually the first of Bob’s tunes I arranged for guitar - back in the mid-nineties, long enough ago for this song to have had a run in psychedelic monster rock, screaming telecaster form, as well as acoustically for the folk family - and all styles between. It’s one of the oldest songs in my repertoire that still gets off the chain now, and I don’t see it ending it’s run anytime soon. Once again - thank you Bob Rummery. We sing or say a small handful of Crosscut’s words - a fine poet indeed!

‘The Broken Down Digger’ I can’t think of a tougher place to chase colour than the Kiandra fields! This song is a real favourite of mine, with the mixed DNA typical of Australian folk song: call it full of hybrid vigour, or mongrel-bred - depends on your perspective. The first three verses come from that mightiest of 19th century Australian books - Charles McAlister’s ‘Old Pioneering Days in the Sunny South’. Folklorist Bill Scott wrote the last verse, and set it to a tune. But I’m using a melody here that was given to the words by Bob Rummery. Bob is one of the very best at hanging a tune that circles a song, somehow making you feel the melody was there from the start; a setting that, once heard, feels essential to the song. Bob would send us tapes from WA - as he put it, “…float it over into your letter-box, and see what catches…” I can’t tell you how exciting it was to see Bob’s writing on a package! This, and many more songs and tunes caught hold - well and truly. Not to mention the long letters with the deep historical context, the yarns, the laughs. Thanks Bob.

‘His Epitaph’ Words: Frederick Ophel (Prospect Good) Tune: Bob Rummery My third Fancy in a row of mining songs, with a beaut setting from Bob Rummery. This one is raising the spirits here tonight in the ghostly Bathurst Goldfields Museum. Prospect good!

‘Around the Lighthouse’ and ‘Eddy’ Chloë and Jason Roweth Two of our own tunes, caught up in the spirit of my favourite Australian bush song - variously known as ‘Denis O’Reilly’, ‘Swag all on my Shoulder’, ‘Lad from Erin’s Isle’ and etc. For those transcendent forever-moments when hauling your swag around puts a tingle in your toes and heels, and it feels like the best of all tucker tracks; when the water’s up and curling, cod are biting, and there’s plenty of green pick; when your baccy pouch is near full; when your spirit is at ease, camping in the river bend - when pre-dawn river gums catch the first breeze, and you decide to rest and reflect another day after all.

‘There She Goes’ - From Harry Jackson of Avoca ‘The Wedding of Lachan McGraw’ - From Joe Yates of Sofala One typical characteristic of traditional Australian dance tunes is that they can be slowed down, with beautiful bones big enough to hold structure at easier and more expressive tempos. Here are two of my favourite Australian set tunes, slowed. The first is from Avoca. I have a school in from Avoca tonight - I give a tune or song back to every school, if I can. The second is a local tune from the late Joseph Henry Yates. Back in the nineties, we in ‘Jindi’ (Mike Martin, Chloë and myself, and Stephen ‘Stretch’ Teakle) recorded an album of Joe’s tunes as collected by Mike. We still play Yates tunes at just about every gig. Joe was ‘The King of Bush Fiddlers’. Now, if you’re a Joe Cashmere of Booligal fan, this will be a controversial statement, but I have convincing evidence. Twice in the nineties, we had the tremendous fun of playing a tune-war show called ‘You’re Joe-King’, against ‘The Harvest Moon Band’ (Alan Musgrove, Greg O’Leary, Jim Moir and Julia Arnold). Greg would lead the opposition through a Cashmere tune on his fiddle, and we’d respond with a Yates tune - and around we’d go again. The winner was decided by an audience applause-off at show’s end. Jindi had a guest fiddler for each of the gigs - Mark Rummery for the gig at the magnificent old Kiama festival. The Cashmere tunes are rippers, and Harvest Moon are one of my all-time favourite bands, but we had a fine ensemble, and wonderful tunes as well. The Kiama show was declared an honourable draw - which put huge pressure on the rematch at The National Folk Festival. Jindi was joined by fiddling Roger Hargraves for this last show. It was another fiercely contested fight! With both bands bloodied, and on the canvas, the audience couldn’t split the bands or the Joes at the end! That is until Greg O’Leary - from the Harvest Moon / Cashmere camp - announced that he would decide the contest with the best tune either band would play. He kicked off with “I can’t believe you mob don’t know this one…!” and played the Joe Yates tune - now a classic, but little known then - ‘The Wedding of Lachan McGaw’, thereby winning the contest for us, his opposition. Joe Yates was declared ‘The King of Bush Fiddlers’. But of course, he scored a moral victory for Harvest Moon.

Lanes of Woolloomooloo John Dengate For Pop - Colin William Pye - and for the unnamed man. I picture them together. We asked more than I can even imagine, and owe each - and all - an immeasurable debt. And for John. Peace x

‘Fire at Ross’s Farm’ Henry Lawson My childhood love of Lawson was more towards the short stories and prose sketches. But a few poems broke through as well - including this one. My first memory of this poem is from very young - young enough to need to ask my teacher who these Romeo and Juliet folks were. I still like the poem very much, but don’t get to perform it often. In fact, I think this is its first run off the chain.

‘The Death of Ben Hall’ - Will Ogilvie It’s a great part of the world; the country just north and west of Forbes is beautiful. Home. I’ve visited the site of Ben’s murder many times over the years, but one memory stands out: I was an all-natural psychedelic adventurer from a very early age - by inclination, and by way of John Lennon, Lewis Carroll et al. - but I specifically chose the site of Ben Hall’s death for my first pharmaceutically enhanced explorations. In my mid-teens, I wandered out solo, with a hand-written copy of Ogilvie’s poem that I’d copied out from the wall of the pub in Tullamore, my guitar, and a head full of ‘The Streets of Forbes’ and Sally Sloane’s ballad on the death of Ben. I built myself a little fire - it was May and cold - and rolled out the bag. I took my medicine, kind thanks to Dr Robert, and waited to see what would happen through the night and dawn. It won’t surprise you one bit - plenty happened. I may have been by myself, but I wasn’t alone. Will Ogilvie is one of my favourite poets. This the first Ogilvie I read, and - for me - his most stirring piece. He might have been a Scotsman, and only here for ten years, but as John Dengate used to say, “We got the best of him.”

‘Derivative’ - Eden MacKenzie ‘Lead the Knave’ - Arty McGlynn I learned these two tunes down Wahluu in Bathurst, in the mid-nineties - both tunes have a connection to that mighty Bathurst band ‘Cocky’s Joy’. ‘Derivative’ was written by Eden MacKenzie. Eden’s from Cullen Bullen - a little town I know very well. When I first got my hands on a guitar and started teaching myself to play back in the mid-eighties, I was living on a farm off to the west of Cullen. Eden was playing bass in the Joy by the time I first heard him play this tune - after we moved back out to Bathurst, then the little farm outside Tarana, in 1996. I learned Irish guitarist Arty McGlinn’s ‘Lead the Knave’ from Mike Martin, when we started playing with him in ‘Jindi’. Mike was already a legend to me through his work in the Joy, and I couldn’t believe my good fortune to be playing with him. I still thank my lucky stars for those formative gigging and jamming years with Mike. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: ‘Cocky’s Joy’ in prime, in full flight - as good as any band, anywhere, anytime. Especially in the classic lineup - Mike Martin, Roger Hargraves, Dave Fitz, Chris McCusker and Tony Denmead. What a front line, what a rhythm section, what a repertoire, what arrangements - what a vibe! And especially the second set, after a breath of “fresh air” out the back, to clear the heads. I didn’t get to hear The Beatles in Hamburg, Levon and The Hawks at Tony Mart’s in New Jersey, Dylan and The Band in ‘66, or The Grateful Dead at Fillmore East in ‘70. But I did get to hear the Joy at The Commercial in Bathurst - even got to sit in here and there - and that’ll do me. I hear it still. The late Tony Denmead alone - one of the best drummers I’ve ever heard, let alone played with… For a few weeks, when we first moved to back to Bathurst in June ‘96, Tony would swing by our little fibro house on Stewart St, we’d spark a few numbers, he’d grab our old African Spirit Drum, and we’d jam the night away. We only played one gig as a trio - half a gig / jam really - and it was right here where I am tonight, in the ghostly Goldfields museum. The Bathurst Goldfields Festival, a million years ago. We most likely played these two tunes then… Playing them tonight for Tony.