These Infinite Spaces

So The Catch (mk I) was over. We'd been together for 2.5 years, and had played 20+ gigs, and made a grand total of $1100. I would also conservatively guess we'd spent over 500 hours in rehearsal. Now it was all over.

We immediately began looking for more musicians. Andrew was really driving the shape of the band, and he basically wanted what we had before, except for a vocalist with a better voice and better attitude. So we were looking for a keyboard player and a vocalist - both male.

Male keyboardists were hard to find, but I knew a superb pianist at school, Peter. I asked if he was interested and he was nonchalant about it, but then I got a phone call from his Dad that night. He was reluctant to let Peter do it, because it was the HSC year (fair point!). Then he, "But Peter seems to think this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

In the end he said "no", but I'd been surprised to hear of Peter's perception of the band. In a lot of ways, band-life and school-life were pretty seperate. Few of my classmates had cars, and most of our gigs were far away anyway. The only time most of them got to see us was that one night at Engadine Pub (which went off).

Actually, there were two schoolmates who saw us a bit more. At one stage we were doing a lot of parties and needed a DJ, and a guy from school called Red helped us out. Another schoolmate, Bob, volunteered to be our roadie, and helped us out a lot. He was a great guy, relaxed and liked by everyone. I went to his wedding a few years later. Sadly, he didn't survive his thirties. His Dad put up a memorial wall for him on the net, and I was looking at it this evening and feeling miserable. Rest in peace, Bob.

For the rest of school, my band life was mostly a thing of hearsay - and yet it is the thing I am most remembered for. Years after school I had schoolmates coming up and asking me about the band. In our final year book they assigned an appropriate song to each student, and mine was "Pop Singer". I guess there are worse things to be remembered for!

Anyway, we were still looking for some musos. There was something called the "Musicians Placement Service" operating back then. You paid $30 and described what you were after, then they sent out these massive lists, like wanted adds, to all the musos on their books. Gosh we wasted paper in the pre-internet days.

Anyway, it turned out that male keyboardists and male singers were rare as hen's teeth. I suggested to Andrew that we go 2 guitars, but he wouldn't hear of it - "I'd be bored if there were two guitars, Craig." My name was down for the service, and I got several female singers ringing up begging for a chance. I suggested we give them a go, but Andrew was adamant - had to be a bloke. My guitar teacher agreed - "You don't want girls in the band. They get emotional all the time, and they can't carry any equipment." So the search continued.

I was beginning to get a bit fed up. Andrew was so fussy that I began to think we'd never find anyone. At the same time, I had offers from a couple of other people to join bands. Bass players were rare, so I always had offers to play. In particular, my old friend Matt was trying to put together a band with Adam (Shae) and an aspiring actor we both knew called Erick. Matt had been my best friend through the later years of High School, but he'd left at the start of year 12 and I missed him. It would be good to be in a band together.

The final straw came a couple of weeks later. Andrew's Dad had a work colleague who's son could apparently sing. The only problem? He played guitar. Andrew again refused to have another guitar in the band - we'd keep looking. I went home stewing, and a few days later I rang up Justin and told him I was leaving the band because I was tired of waiting for the perfect guys to walk through the door. Justin spent about half an hour trying to talk me out of it. I wavered a bit, but finally help firm.

About 30 minutes later Andrew rang up. I told him also I was leaving. "Before you do that, you might want to hear this news," he said, a smile in his voice. "I've decided to give that guy a go, the guitarist." I'm guessing that Justin must have rung him up and threatened him.

We rehearsed at some studios in Kirrawee at that time, and that's where the audition was held. We got there early and waited for him to arrive. He finally entered the studio, carrying an old Telecaster and a practice amp. We didn't know it at the time, but this fresh-faced, red-headed Irish Catholic kid would turn us into local rock stars. His name was Jarrod.