I've almost finished Mick Wall's When Giants Walked the Earth, a biography of Led Zeppelin. The book is a journey from confidence to success to swagger and then to arrogance to the point of disappearing up their own arses. And lo, what arses they were! Don't get me wrong - the gap between art and artist doesn't degrade the art for me. When the Levee Breaks still sounds like John Bonham traded his soul for a messianic drum sound, but that doesn't stop him being a wanker. (You can just hear that messianic drum sound sampled in the video in this previous post...)
This afternoon was spent on a drive through the Dandenongs, which is when I realised I wasn't really old enough to enjoy the Dandenongs. Too many self-described "cottages"; too many Devonshire teas; Tooe Manye Extraneous Seconde Vowelles; too many spas, aromatherapy and massage opportunities. The hills and forests are, of course, verdant and beautiful, but Olinda was a car park for the middle-aged. From the back seat E said "It's very quaint... maybe too quaint...". I am very proud of my daughter...
We were escaping Death by Twee when I remembered the last time I was in Olinda when
Mark, Bianca and I visited Olinda Falls. Mushrooms and herbal tea; lots of giggling, magically disappearing Scandanavian tourists and Bianca and I laughing at Mark, who was changing size every time he walked behind a tree or turned a corner on the other side of valley. Very different to Ye Olde Afternoone Tea Cottage, Hemorrhoide Creame Upon Requeste.
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