Sonic Porno frontman Tone gives FasterLouder an insider’s view of touring with Magic Dirt.

As musicians we all start in our bedroom, dreaming of a big stage; a full room and a wish-list of bands we would like to share a stage with someday. I, of course, am no exception. When we were offered the opportunity to play with Magic Dirt in Rockhampton and the Sunshine Coast this week, I found myself searching through old books of poetry and teenage lyrics trying to find that wish-list, of which Magic Dirt made the top five Aussie bands I wanted to play with. In 2001 I watched Magic Dirt play a show in London with The Meanies, Midnight Oil and Regurgitator to a bunch of us Aussie ex-pats, a crew of misfits and tourists. The day ended with Link Meanie and I struggling to hold each other up thanks to the enthusiasm of the mosh pit and some of London’s finest.

Fast forward to 2008 and I am driving at 3am along the Bruce Highway en route to the Rocky blasting the latest Magic Dirt offering. My guitar rig and band merch are crammed into the tiny rear space of the hatchback, my daughter asleep in the back seat and girlfriend in the front. My only conscious company are road trains and trucks which push me along in the dark. The cool air and solitude make me want to pull over and write something new and pretty on the acoustic, but it is much too cold for snging by the side of the road at 3am in Childers.

The striking thing about getting out of the city is the amazing number of stars you see in the sky once the city lights and smog have been left behind. Shooting stars come and go every 10 minutes or so, and I wish upon every one of them; “Please let the show go off”, “Give us a big crowd”, “Make my guitar purr”. Pretty soon I have run out of wishes and start counting the shooters, so that when the girls wake up I can pass on a few free wishes before the sun comes up and the gods are asleep. Besides, one of my wishes has already come true. I am playing with Magic Dirt, man, I don’t need to concern myself with superstition right now. Tomorrow, we will show Rockhampton that we are no novelty act.

We are now at soundcheck. It is 5pm and the venue is busy with local miners who have dropped in for their afternoon brew and local uni students smart enough to know that by getting in early they may be witness to an impromptu Magic Dirt practice tune before the real show kicks off tonight. Adalita is looking very secretary in reading glasses and black jeans. Every man in the room is struggling to repress those teenage fantasies we often talk about at 1am after the band has packed up. Drummer Robbo smokes cigarettes and chats openly with us, a relaxed bloke with no rock attitude, which makes our sharing a hotel room tonight all the more appealing.

Guitarist Raul sets up his pedal board and begins to shred his custom guitar at a volume loud enough to suggest that tonight’s show is going to be a lesson in rock. I introduce myself to Adalita and try to sound like a fellow player and not a fan, but on both accounts I fail miserably. Our interview is lined up for later in the evening in her hotel room. That teenage dream goes racing through my mind again and I ignore it by hitting the bar for some Vodka orange confidence.

Before I head to the hotel room where Adalita is prepping for the show, the boys from Magic Dirt and Sonic Porno talk shop in the car park. Conversation goes from guitar gear to the new album to foreign tales of debauchery and near misses at airports. Robbo recounts how on a tour of the Far North, plane troubles forced the airline to move everyone onto an international flight from Mackay to Darwin, forcing bands and entourages to go through international customs upon their arrival in the Northern Territory. Roadies from the other bands on tour were dismayed to be forced to donate all of their medication to the bins usually reserved for contraband fruit.

The band names that are dropped in the anecdote remind my little unknown band that we have come a long way, but still have so much further to go. I feel like a fireman at the first step on the ladder; I haven’t even been close to the flames yet.

Raul and Robbo speak honestly of their new album. They are genuinely happy with the results and are looking forward to a future on their own fledgling label, Emergency Music, having ended their relationship with major label Warner Music. The word “freedom” is mentioned several times. The Magic Dirt boys are genuine, friendly lads who seem to be enjoying the casual nature of a Central Queensland show. We make fun of each other’s stories while the crowd inside grows to acceptable levels for a Wednesday night. I head off to Hotel Room 5 with my iPod, set to record what will be an in depth conversation with one of my favourite bands.

When I enter the room, Adalita has made herself up, gone are the glasses and schoolgirl chic, replaced by an all black look with dark mascara that screams rock vixen. Her beauty is striking, yet she controls the room with a swagger that suggests she is no shrinking violet. I ask her about the new album – their first full release since their split with Warner.

I am curious as to the way this new direction has affected the music. Was there a conscious effort to break the mould of power-pop, single-friendly tracks a la Dirty Jeans, or was the tried and tested formula omnipresent? The word freedom is mentioned again, yet Adalita makes the point of ensuring I realise the split was amicable and that they had complete creative control over their previous releases on Warner. Still, I wonder whether the freedom that I have heard mentioned repeatedly has resulted in a new writing and recording ethos.

“We have always had creative control; we had that written into our contract with Warner,” Adalita tells me. At this point Raul and Robbo walk into the room and are invited by both Adalita and I to participate in the conversation. Robbo sits down and is ready to fire, whilst Raul decides three is a crowd and wanders off outside. Robbo agrees that there was never a ‘verse-chorus-bridge’ approach enforced upon them, but the strength in their conviction makes me wonder whether the suits at Warner weren’t a factor in determining the direction of their previous outings. There is an obvious attempt to play down the split, and it is not an issue I want to press. After all, the new album is fucking amazing, and harks back to the early Magic Dirt days when Sonic Youth were often mentioned in the same breath. Rather than take offense by the reference, Adalita is quite accepting of the comparison.

As much as I have wanted to avoid the obvious “Chick in a rock band” question, I decide to approach it from a different angle. Did Warner ever try to push the pretty girl to the front and the boys to the back?

“I wouldn’t have let that happen, but there was nothing like that from Warner. If they had tried to take that approach, I would have stepped on it very early on,” says Adalita. It is obvious that she is all about the music, not the imagery. The band makes no secret of the fact that they are straight-up, balls out rock n roll – not a costumed genre-specific act trying to set fashion trends or sell sex to sell records.

Check back in coming weeks for Part Two of the interview, in which the band talk about the new album, exorcising their demons and the likliehood of life on other planets. Followed, of course, by a rollicking show in Rockhampton.