Country Rock ‘n’ Roll Holiday

So the Re-mains just completed a little tour to Victoria. It was great fun and completely in-line with a concept that’s been surfacing in mirthful conversations, originally inspired by the wry observations of a former East German national who hired us a massive black VW touring van back in 2013 for our European jaunt. Mick and I sat in his Berlin office while being quizzed on our various shows and projected income. Patrick Goerlt - I can still see and hear him - “So, do you know about the ferry costs from Denmark to Sweden? What about the toll roads across the continent? No? The tunnels in Norway? The Øresund Bridge? No? OK. So… Rock ‘n’ Roll Holiday?” Yeah. It’s part of the give and take of artistic life where you win and lose, but predominantly, you win. It can be ridiculous, but you sure as hell remember it. This little run south was slightly that way, as in it cost us money, but at the same time, it was a reaffirmation of the band’s Grund des Seins, along with a reminder that our traction south of Murray had not completely waned.

The King Hits, Smiths Alternative ACT 23rd Oct - Sarah Carroll and Shannon Bourne, The Barwon Club, Geelong VIC, 24th Oct… and… Still Life with Comet.

We played 3 band gigs, but operated as a duo on the way down in Canberra. There, we co-billed with The King Hits, amused by Adam Bell’s evolving comedy direction, part absurdist impro, part Gen-X geekdom. Den Hanrahan brought most of his family along. Continuing down the Hume, we united with the rhythm section and played the long-standing Barwon Club in Geelong. Supported by Sarah Carroll and Shannon Bourne, in at times hilarious duo mode, it was a treat to be up on such an old-school pub-rock stage, thundering out the serious-sized PA to a modest yet apparently typically appreciative G-Troit audience. It was a timely run through of the set, capped off by a post-gig audience with Sarah’s three idiosyncratic pups and several cups of tea. Come morning, we had to leave to make our live interview on 3RRR’s Twang. It was a reminiscing session in which a question was raised for not the first time in the last couple of weeks, “When’s your next album?” It’s not a case of the well being dry, but the band haven’t released a thing since 2014’s experimental EP, “In the Valley”. It’s also about trying to organise adults. Crossing the road to the Lomond Hotel for the show was easy, darting off on a tram to the “world’s best pho” only slightly harder. Our support act that night doubled as a prescription in making sure you do the job right. The last time I saw George Wilson’s Pollyman, I thought it was the greatest rock n roll act going and I still think so, regardless of the line-up change. They played a set of brilliantly realised songs that meld Bowie-esque style with T-Rex sass and a slab of rock music smarts that had all present on their toes, including us. It was demographic gamble I felt would work when initially putting the tour together. Plus, George is family as far as I’m concerned. Many familiar old faces were there among the unknowns. By all reports there was a dozen other cool gigs on our side of the Yarra, but we pulled them in. Melbourne still wins.

Pollyman and the blessed Re-mains, The Lomond Hotel 25th October 2025. Re-mains photo - Tim Chmielewski

Next up was Castlemaine, just an hour and a half away. Increasingly the refuge of Melbourne ex-pats seeking to maintain an arty life and still have something in the bank, this beautiful town has also been our turf at various venues. This time it was the Taproom, a rather nice establishment put together in a former fabric mill. Doug Falconer of the Hunters and Collectors is the proprietor and he fills it with entertainment year round, proving regional Victoria also has the edge. Tim Rogers, of Malmsbury, was on the night before. Sam Fiddian was with us on the day, helping out, he of various other acts and in possession of an astute ear. Later on we checked into our all-in “family” room and were gifted much levity as parts of the furnishings simply fell apart before anyone touched them. Paul and I drove back home, taking two days, overnighting where it suited, while Mick and Grant went cattle class with some deathly flying tube merchants, suffering the 2 hour flight back to Coolangatta. The scary part in all this was the jibes thrown our way for having not recorded in over a decade appearing to have stuck in the craw. We’ve been discussing, suddenly, not one, but two albums, and… a coffee table book. So, we go on.

Paul Owen, filling in for Mikey Couvret, played brilliantly. There was stonking rain on the way home. Country Rock ‘n’ Roll Holiday.

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