BY LUCY RASH
I recently spent a large chunk of my time cataloguing the records on my lounge room shelves. What are summer holidays for, anyway?
In the process, I came across a surprising number of mixtapes – or mixCDs, if you will – that friends have made for me at various moments throughout my life: my birthday during my first year of college, as a present on a first date, or as a little taste of home during a trip overseas. It got me thinking: is curatorial practice an all-but-lost artform? Or do we just need to know where to look?
At CutCommon, we love artists who bend and blend and differentiate in their work. Pat Monaghan, the helmsman of Melbourne’s newly arrived yet institution-worthy Rocksteady Records, is one of these people. Pat and I got together to chat about classical genre-benders, the music industry, and the art of listening.
And we mean really listening.
Hi Pat! Tell us about Rocksteady Records. How was the concept born?
Having my own record store has always been a goal/dream/vision, probably ever since I first walked into one and walked out with something that enriched my life from the first listen. Perth record stores such as White Rider, Atlas, 78s, Mills Records and Dada Records (where I ended up working for nearly 10 years) were as important to my growth as any school or university I attended. The people on both sides of the counter consistently provided education and entertainment. Melbourne stores like Augogo (I had a five year stint behind the counter in Little Bourke Street), Gaslight, Greville, Missing Link, Off The Hip, Northside, and Basement Discs (I was a cellar dweller here for 14 years) provided other masterclasses in giving forth the good grooves. That spirit of community, encouragement, and exchange is what I hope to maintain and grow at Rocksteady Records; to give as much to the cultural community as I have gained from it.
What role does the art of curating play in your life, both at Rocksteady Records and as a music lover more generally?
I have always enjoyed visiting curated stores whether they be record stores, book shops, clothes stores or cafes. Conversations with the good people behind the counter or desk usually lead to a new sound to explore or a fresh path to follow. I have managed to successfully fill the role of guide fairly often – I reckon I can maintain my strike rate.
What does genre mean to you?
Frequently frustrating, often convenient, and always open to debate. All of those are good and bad things.
In what ways do you notice artists and customers negotiate genre?
Some artists, when asked where – genre-wise – in the shop they would like their release racked, find the question incredibly confronting. They mostly offer a couple of suggestions and then leave it up to me! I have a couple of musician friends, both of whom released their early recording in the jazz idiom. Ten or 12 albums later, they are both more often found toiling in the contemporary composition/classical field. Most shops continue to put their records under jazz. Rocksteady Records has them fighting it out in the Australian section.
In what ways have you witnessed artists incorporate instruments or aspects of music-making traditionally thought of as classical into their work?
Whether it be simply employing a string section or fleetingly quoting a piece by Debussy, there is a fairly strong classical element in lots of contemporary music. As previously mentioned, a number of Melbourne artists journey from jazz to pop to classical and feel at home in all areas. That’s exactly as it should be. Beyond that, there are iconic examples in the catalogues of Arthur Russell, Meredith Monk, Nils Frahm, Matana Roberts, Colin Stetson, Beck etc.
How would you describe today’s music industry?
It would be better if it was known as – and genuinely was – the musician’s industry. The creative element still burns bright and the people who boost or encourage artists and their art are still up for the task. On a perhaps more simplistic level, the corporate juggernauts in the private sector and elsewhere could do worse than taking note of those two facts and distributing their wealth and influence accordingly.
The act of listening must surely be important to your work. What kind of environment makes for a good listening experience?
It depends on what I’m listening to. The system in Rocksteady Records is pretty sweet for listening to most things – dub, hip-hop and funk sound particularly good. The computer is convenient. The phone/ear-buds is far from my favourite. For most things, I do not seek absolute quiet. More often than not, someone talking while a record is playing can add to the listening experience. That said, certain things require your complete attention – things like Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds’ Skeleton Tree, and The Apartments’ No Song No Spell No Madrigal tend to be lessened when something else intrudes.
What kind of things might you listen for when hearing new work for the first time?
First and foremost, I make an effort to switch off the filters that seem to automatically register, like ‘this track sounds like…’, or ‘that keyboard line is lifted from…’. It’s the price you pay for decades spent listening to music all day (almost), every day. Then, if not something startlingly original, maybe a fresh take on a previously well-worked method. Often, the element that sounds out of place or wrong is, in actual fact, the glue that holds the whole thing together. Joe Henry, Erykah Badu, Lee Perry, Bjork, Nicolas Jaar etc. are all really good at that. Heart: all art that succeeds has it.
What is the strangest request you’ve had since working in music retail?
“I heard a song on the radio the other day, by Frank Zappa. Have you got it?”
“What was the song called?”
“S–t, mate. I don’t know. That’s why I’m phoning you.”
“Do you remember any of the lyrics? The chorus maybe?”
“Nah, it’s an instrumental – plenty of guitar.”
“Umm. Did you catch the name of the album?”
“Look, mate, you’re supposed to be the f—–g expert – stop wasting my time!”
And what about your most loved request, or other story from behind the desk?
Every time someone brings a local/Australian release to purchase. That’s always a moment to treasure.
What do you enjoy most about Rocksteady Records?
Every day, records come in, and every time a frequent customer/friend wanders in and we chat about music, books, films etc.
The first time someone walks through the door and digs what’s on the turntable.
I also really like switching on the Rocksteady Records neon sign and gazing at Bleddyn Butcher’s photographs and Tracy Ellerton’s artwork.
If CutCommon readers want to come and visit you, how would they go about that?
Rocksteady Records is located at Level 1 Mitchell House 358 Lonsdale Street Melbourne, just in from the corner of Lonsdale and Elizabeth Streets. Enter through the automatic doors and ride the elevator driven by the disembodied voice of Laurie Anderson.
Images supplied. Credit: Kristoffer Paulsen.
I think that Pat’s statement on genre being, “Frequently frustrating, often convenient…” is spot on. I recall once seeing a Grand Funk Railroad album in the Soul/Funk section of a record store. It was still there many months later, so I took the liberty of moving it to the Rock section. Since my teenage years I have spent countless hours in record stores all over the world and in recent years I have come to the conclusion that, as a customer, I would prefer a simple alphabetical filing system.