I imagine Martin Martini to be up to his elbows in leather gauntlets, taking a break from repairing a brass-boiler when we talk on a tepid Melbourne day. Not exactly, but he is working on a construction site, lugging bricks and metal, wearing a mask to block the dust of cancer-causing particles. Stuff, he says people shouldn’t move with their bare hands.
The front man of Melbourne gypsy-rock band Martin Martini and the Bone Palace Orchestra, Martini is upbeat and philosophical about the future and excited about a funeral. A funeral on August 14 to mark the end of the Bone Palace Orchestra. A funeral, or a blessed passing depending on who you talk to.
I start by asking if a day job in deconstruction compares with the end of one of Melbourne’s most promising groups.
– œIt’s not the end,’ Martin says, – œI see it as the beginning. We almost got to five years together before the band started to get segmented in their ideas. We decided we all wanted to do different things (than the band). Everyone was disagreeing a lot. We were having a lot of fights and in a pretty difficult financial situation.’
The Bone Palace Orchestra sound plumbed the depths of misery and despair in its early days, but it’s a mistake to think it thrived on misery and destitution. But the old chestnut of musical differences and financial woes as a reason for its demise proves wrong. It was chess.
– œThe last gig we did was at the Toff In Town. The trombone player rocked up and he was drunk. He hurled abuse at everyone and says I’m quitting. He said – œI’m going to give up music to play chess. I want to be a chess champion.’
Ahuh. Chess?
– œYeah, impossible to become a grand master unless you start at the age of thirteen or fourteen. He- œs twenty two. It got to this point where I thought, I’m going to kill the band… because it was heading that way.’
Martini impresses rebirth on me several times during the interview. It was eight years ago when the WAAPA trained performer met Steve Sedegreen (son of the famous Bob) who lead him to the piano.
– œI met (Steve) on the street. We were strangers. I was sick of doing these musicals and wanted to learn how to play an instrument. Steve said, – œmeet me here tomorrow and we’re going to learn the piano- œ. And I dropped everything and for a year, he was my mentor.’
What Martini produced was a sound he admits was derivative. But it was the stark figure in a bowler hat, pet crows; a vaudeville creation followed by a perpetual shadow that rattled some people.
– œI put myself out there in a really strong way and I don’t think people responded to that. That really unsettled a few people. I think it was a case of who does this guy think he is? When I started, I didn’t know how to write, so I listened to Tom Waits. The first record was a homage to him. It started off in that junkyard, gypsy style and ended closer to rock and roll now.’
And where is that?
– œIt’s a tough one. I want to write a novel and that’s a bit scary. I want to be like a surgeon to music. Whatever I do next I’m probably not going to have my name on it and don’t want anyone to know it’s me. There will definitely be a musical project happening next year.
Martini insists the band still love each other and may collaborate in the future. But by design of default they won’t rehearse prior to the funeral show.
– œWe’re not going to rehearse. We’re going to turn up, walk on to stage. I’m going to ask – œdo you remember this song’? We’re going to launch in and see what happens. That’s what the band was all about: having nothing and seeing what comes out on the day.’
Why, no rehearsal?
– œI kind of made a few enemies with those people. I gave up alcohol about three months ago.
I’ve been in a really negative space for the last three years of my life and creating everything from a dark place. I don’t want to mention names, but basically I hadn’t paid them for a year. Because we went over to London, all the money we had went to pay off this huge debt. And when you can’t pay your musicians money, they start getting a bit cranky.’
What can people expect at the last even Bone Palace Orchestra gig?
– œEveryone in the lineup is performing my material. It will be a night of other performers interpreting my music. With three records out and a back catalogue of stuff never recorded, we’ll cover a lot of material.
– œ*Eddie Perfect* is doing The Men Who Don’t Fit In and Where Can You Be? which is a song I never recorded. Paul Capsis is doing Merrily We Roll Along, Money in The Hole which is a favourite I never recorded either. Abbie Cardwell is performing Wild Man and Jan Skubiszewski collaborates with a conglomerate of Harry J Angus and Ollie McGill from the Cat Empire – all three are in Jackson Jackson. They’ll be doing a song called Diamonds and another song called Get on the Moth ’.
And who will carry the Bone Palace Orchestra coffin out the doors at the Corner Hotel?
– œEddie Perfect is my closest friend. We met ten years ago and he was the first guy to inspire me to create. I started doing cover music and other people’s material and he pulled me aside one day and said – œWhat the fuck are you doing? Do your own stuff. Why would you recycle other people’s thoughts?’ He would be it.’
And of course, the dress code: black.
– œThe idea of it being black is that l can look out into the audience and maybe not see anyone. There’s no one here. Just the way I’d wanted it to end.’
Pay your respects to the departed at the Corner on Friday the 14th of August .
to listen to their music now on 