I’m leaving Darwin. I had a party for a few friends and a bunch of muso’s turned up, including those wonderful Spangeld Drongoes (a name I’ve always wished on a band or a cafe and a tribute to the wonderful Spangled Drongo, Dicrurus bracteatus that you can read about here), and The Biggest Boys. Being Darwin no-one worried too much about set-lists or who was playing what and when.

Here is a real one in case you forgot. The Drongo has a great collection of calls, including some that are reminiscent of a strangled cat, a raucous & querulous clatter or a starter motor gone very wrong. I love them.

And I also like live music played loud. And I’ve been hanging around with a bunch of Darwin musos since sometime in the late 19080s, including what used to be the Swamp Jockeys, who I wrote about five years (!) ago here. As I said at the time the Swamp Jockeys were (are?) a band distilled from half-rotten mangos fallen into the gutter with more than a few three-paper spliffs thrown in … straight outta Darwin.

Anyroad, back to the spirit of Saturday night. The Spangled Drongoes opened up with a cracking set of Darwin’s motherless children to set the tone for the night.

I cannot begin to describe Mr Colin Holt but those who know him accord him nought but respect. Here he is on his usual drum-stool and on guitar with fellow Drongoe Ian Redfern.

“The Chin” aka Stan Stockton regaled us with words and swinging arms. Mr Rod Balaam provided more than a little certainty with a steady bass line all night.

After a break for a few drinks “The Biggest Boys“, with Pete Bibby up front, a muso I’d not seen before, and they cranked up the volume and fun. Pete Bibby has a great way of wrapping a few sharp words around some chords wrung with great and infectious enthusiasm out of a shredded national steel guitar. (Note to self: Catch some more of that soon).

The rest of the night was a tinnitus blur … but the best fun. A good way to say farewell to Darwin. For now.