continued...

But it was Madé J's grandfather (paternal) - Mangku Gebleg - who was the most famous son of Bali, an artiste in every sphere, playing and teaching all the instruments of traditional Balinese gamelan ensembles, as well as violin and guitar in the style known as krontjong, closely akin to the Fado of Portugal. He was also a noted painter, sculptor, and architect. The story goes that, on the eve of a public krontjong concert in Denpasar, capital of Bali, he was unaccountably and summarily struck blind. He was then taken to a shaman or doctor-priest, who informed him that God had chosen him to be a Balian (Balinese shaman). Accepting the call, and following the application of appropriate mantras and holy water, his sight was instantly restored, and he went on to play the concert. But it was to be his last gig. Thenceforward he devoted his life to healing his fellow-men, becoming the most celebrated Balian of his day. In Balinese belief, Madé J as third generation is the reincarnation of this venerable and sublime being. Madé J also has a brother, Leo, who lives in Germany and plays guitar and keyboards.

At age 12, about to enter eighth grade at high school in Sydney - the very day before the beginning of the new term - Madé J picked up a bass guitar and tablature, and figured out how to play the tune, Knocking on Heaven's Door (ex Guns and Roses, rather than Dylan who wrote it for Billie the Kid). The experience was so exacting that he skipped the first day of school, and got himself chucked out. His suspension, however, was but temporary.

It wasn't until year 11 (when he would have been about 16) that he was finally and irrevocably expelled, like Flashman, notorious Rugby alumnus, for drunkenness.

In the intervening years he got into Heavy Metal 'thrashing' bass guitar for a while, then quite for lack of challenge in favor of six-string axe which he found more expressive: "bass too easy, man." Next a period of Punk: "Sex Pistols, Dead Kennedies kind of stuff, but you don't have to be too good to play Punk." The band gradually developed, and pari passu Madé J's flexibility, picking both lead and rhythm due to odd defections." But rhythm is the basis, man."

What was the band's name? "I forget". "What do you mean, you forget?" "That was the name of the band, man - I forget - you know how it is, permanently shit-faced - hey! What's the band called? Oh, I forgget!" But the band endured for several years and is still remembered on the Australian East Coast. There was session work, mostly minor scale stuff: "trained by ear, man; don't read - barely read a book." Even recordings. There was a record deal in early '97 - "sold OK, some 2,000 copies, but the producers took all the money and ran."

Took off in a V8 Ford Falcon, north 11 hours to Byron Bay, near the New South Wales / Queensland border - overnight and on, on another 17 hours to Airlie Beach near McKay, where he hung out for months, playing in the street and sleeping rough, surviving on Wheetabix and milk and two-minute instant noodles. " Only ate good when I won busking competitions, then it was potato chip sarnies and milk - and booze." At Airlie Beach he mett a girl, a Canadian who'd studied anthropology amongst the Thai Hill Tribes. She'd come to Airlie overland, and together they spent two and a half years, traveling up and down on the Australian coast from Queensland to Victoria. "I could go anywhere, hoboing on buses and trains. Total freedom: loved it - just me and my gal, guitar and harp."

On the way up north he had one tape in the big Ford: "Robert Johnson was on one side, got that track 'They're Red Hot' - remember the Red Hot Chili Peppers? Muddy Waters on the other side, from Live in Chicago - 'Baby Please Don't Go'." Now he was getting into the Blues. There was one occasion when he heard Big Bill Morganfield, Muddy's son, playing in Sydney a slide Telecaster, just like Muddy did.

A major mentor at this time was Hat Fitz who played a Beeton Brass axe, with his sidekick Itchy on percussion and washboard. They played all the major Blues Festivals around Australia, and still do.

There was the five-day Woodford World Music Festival in NSW over the New Year '98/'99, and the Byron Bay Blues & Roots Fest at Easter. Made J was spectating, and learning fast. There were Hat Fitz & Blues Blitz, the Back Sliders of local provenance; and from over Stateside - Ben Harper, Doctor John, John Hammond, and even the octogenarian Delta Bluesman, R.L. Burnside, picking slide. "But it was John Hammond, man, playing acoustic slide and harp - all solid. That really shook my tree!" Madé J was catalyzed: this was the turning point.

And all the time he kept on busking, taming up with a chap called Easy-Going Jim who played "the smoothest, sweetest slide I ever heard." He was a great influence." At age 19, Madé J put together a new band, Black Cat Bone, in North Sydney, with himself as lead and his girlfriend as Musical Director. " We played all kinds of shit: Blues, Punk, Metal, Grunge, Rock, Hillbilly - you name it - with a Black Metal drummer." He made a demo, picking slide (in fact a knife), which was mostly totally improvised, in the cheapest studio he could find: there were four songs in all - untitled. Suddenly things began to happen. Out of the blue, he was contacted by one of the biggest independent record labels, Black Yak (under the aegis of Phantom), specializing in what they call Alternative Rock. And Harbour, the principal booking agency in NSW wanted to sign him up. A massive gig came up through Harbour - a 2,000 plus audience in Sydney - supporting Richard Clapton (no relation to Eric). More big gigs, then to Melbourne - gigs galore: radio shows. But with everything set up for "the biggest gig of the lot, posters all over, man …. The drummer cancelled out at the last moment, and the whole thing was off!" That did it. He decided to split. Head overseas. Madé J was nearly 20 years old.

Together with his lady friend, he scraped up 3,000 Aussie Dollars, and bought a one-way ticket - Sydney/Bangkok/London. It would have been April 2000. Three or four weeks bumming about in Thailand, living cheaply but well, then Heathrow, London, in the pissing rain. Two weeks in Archway, North London, sussing out the music scene mostly in Tottenham Court Road. Soho. But it was too expensive by far. Off to Spain. Malaga: played Blues in a flamenco club in Seville: Granada: boat to Morocco - Fez, Marrakesh, Esouera (whee Hendrix lived for a while, and Cat Stevens). But the money was running out. He had to get to Jersey to see his maternal grandmother. First how to get to Paris? Morocco to Spain by air out of the question. Flew Agadir to Tangier "dirt cheap" - boat to Malaga - side trip to Ibitha - finally Easy Jet to Paris, nearing December. From Saint Malo a boat to Jersey, and home and dried at last with Granny. Stony-broke.

Granny saved the day with a well-stuffed envelope. "This is for Christmas and your birthday." What a dear, kind, good Granny! To the UK just before Christmas, staying in Southampton for the following 6 months or so, succeded by a two weeks' sting in Germany with brother, Leo. Then came the bust-up with Sheena. She to Spain. He to Ireland.

A search on the Internet got Madé J a five quid fare on RyanAir, Stansted to Dublin, where he gigged and hung out till September. Reels and Jigs on a tenor banjo - and always the Blues on his faithful Fender. Back to the UK for three weeks; but a spot of bother in a club with a former landlord: "Two days, my boy, or it's a knee-capping!" Sufficient reason to make tracks back to the more hospitable clime of the Emerald Isle for a further month or so. And all the while busking and gigging, interspersed with spells of employment as a builder's labourer - 13 hour days - as well as warehouse worker, golf course groundsman, gardener, grave-digger, council truck-driver, garbage man. Sam, Sam, stick out your can - Here comes the garbage man. So many great performances in Dublin pubs, and an especially favoured hostelry in Camden Town, The Purple Turtle. In England they remember him as Slim; in the Irish Republic as J; in Oz as J-Bone, or again plain J. Ask anyone. They'll tell you.

Once more to Germany and Leo. But it's getting cold, by God! So time to go home - Frankfurt to Denpasar, where a welcome respite at the familial hearth. Soon the wanderlust set in again which saw him in November back down under, traveling and gigging until February of this year (2002). By now Madé J had made up his mind that henceforward the only manual labour for him would consist of picking guitar. An interval of 10 days in bali found him once more headed to Ireland. With a six quid ticket from Garuda in his pocket, and a six hour stop-over at Stanstead, Madé J felt like celebrating. He'd been smitten by the leprechauns terminally. 17 pints of Stella at the airport bar - history does not relate what he was served on the plane, if he were indeed capable of being served - and straightaway to the Foggy Dew public house in Dublin's fair city, where the boozing continued. Friends, pubs, streets, gigs, pubs…. Three months to May, and back to Oz to see a girl - 'the girl'. There was talk of marriage, but fortuitously maybe for all concerned, it did not come to pass. Further couple of weeks in bali, four weeks in Oz…. Time to settle down awhile, recuperate, consolidate. Madé J's mum and dad had sold up in Australia and determined to make their permanent home in Bali.

The tourist boom was on; the gigs would come; the international audience and exposure to it were there. Security too, if needs be. Made J arrived in Bali on July 2nd, and it was here, in the Island of the Gods, that I met him in August. It changed by life. His too I should imagine. Regular gigs at the Cat & Fiddle in Sanur, Bali Blues Bar and Jazz Café in Ubud, then …. BANG!!!! Nothing will ever be the same again; yet the world is out there waiting, and Madé J and I are determined to make the most of it. For after all, the only way is forward, whether on or off the beat.

On, on, forevermore.

Victor Mason
Manager