Greetings! My name is Tim Oestmann, from Adelaide, Australia.
Music is such a gift. It is a community event. Many of us are influenced by others’ gifts of a song or a tune, and hopefully, we can provide a tune in return. None of us makes music in a vacuum.
My background is as a guitarist and bass player in a number of local bands. I was fortunate enough to perform for a few years in front of live audiences, which was often a privilege. I also learned a lot from playing to an audience that gave instant feedback if you were hot, or not, they would let you know. I also did some roadie work for other performers, and so heard a lot of live music.
For me the most important thing about music and song writing is creating community. I have spent periods of my life feeling quite isolated. In 2013 after 12 years in Brisbane having convinced myself I was excluded from the local music community, I realised I was in fact very lucky to know many musicians who turned out to be so generous and supportive they recorded versions of my songs for what became the ‘You Do It I Can’t Be Bothered’ project.
Music ebbs and flows, back into time immemorial and forward into the unknown future. I was late to the party, learning instruments and theory as a self-funded young adult long ago.
After many years of compiling former band and personal demos for my own interest, I thought it was time to finish an album for release. Sea to City began with a bunch of “lost” songs from other abandoned collaborative projects and a cover concept. The songs seemed to join hands as a thematic collection, so I then wrote into the spaces, and painted the cover to go along with them.
My name is Jeannie Constance Guerrilla, and I am writing this from the basement of a sort of safe house, I suppose you’d call it, in a sleepy and disintegrating Australian town. The heater here doesn’t work very well. It’s unbearably loud. A few minutes after turning it on, it heats the metal of the grille to the point that it resonates at the same frequency as the spinning fan inside, and the whole thing rattles like a milk truck. Sometimes switching the fan between its two speeds quiets it down a bit, but it seems to have found an equilibrium of density. Now it rattles no matter what I do.
Like they always say, “nothing good comes easy” as true as it sounds. It takes hard work, patience, resources, and most importantly, time. Just like refining gold from its ore requires a lot of work, so it is with whatever venture we embark on.
I live in a small house. High on a forested mountain. It rarely snows during the winter. I drive long distances to see the entire country sometimes. I eat alone in vast naturistic scenarios. However, I have a deeply loving companion.