Monday, May 01, 2006

Deck Aid

I couldn't have said it better myself. Of course, like a lot of 'head in the clouds' bards that plague the land, I have written my own rants against our government. It's hard not to; such a large target.
And my great aunt asks me if I vote Liberal.

I feel more at peace with my soul than I did ten years ago. But that has nothing to do with JWH. I had done the peace marches, the anti-nuclear demonstrations; I'd daubed chalk outlines on Hiroshima Day. Though we were contantly warned of the calcifying of commitment that came with age, I now know I would always succumb. After all, I am in a different space again. To pretend otherwise would be wretched.

I think that there'll always be a place for protest art, but I won't necessarily be making it. One of the odd enduring lessons of Midnight Oil's popularity is just how little effect the passion and compassion has on a slab of society. And if that audience are busy forgetting the words to Short Memory what chance the pub band with a political conscience and a couple of support slots to its credit?

The best political statement you can make as an artist is not to censor an impulse. Now, this does sort the sheep from the goats. Meaningless vulgarity is as likely as a naked insight into something deeper, depending on the artist. We end up tolerating the offhand offence in order to experience the profound profane.

It's not a bad trade-off.


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