THE Annandale Hotel went into receivership recently, casting doubt over the future of one of Sydney’s most beloved live music venues.
However, I wonder how many of those shedding tears over its latest troubles have actually been there in the past year?
Original inner west champions You Am I played a secret gig at the Annandale on Australia Day. I was there, along with one of the [retired] Wiggles and a few hundred other people. It was the first time I had been there after five years living abroad and it felt exactly the same. I don’t mean that in a vague, nostalgic sense. I mean, quite literally, it felt as if nothing had been moved or cleaned.
The whole scene was a bit of a throwback, like a 1990s-themed party. And at the end of the night, as one of the pub’s owners finished crowd surfing, You Am I frontman Tim Rogers urged all of us to “support this f—ing pub!” We cheered riotously in agreement, raised our plastic cups in the air, and quietly wondered if there was a way to do so without necessarily having to go there. Buy a brick, maybe?
Rogers was right, though. Without venues such as the Annandale, a lot of great original Australian music would never have seen the light of day. Countless classic bands have shaken the old pub’s windows and, as recently as 2012, Peter Garrett dubbed it the “spiritual home” of Australian artists. It was, and could still be, a great venue for live original music. And God knows those are getting thin on the ground.
Pubs today are dominated by lone singers playing covers, acoustic duos playing covers, and in the odd large beer barn, full bands playing covers. On a night out in Sydney, you are far more likely to hear a rousing rendition of Brown Eyed Girl than you are to actually meet one. And even if you did, you might struggle to catch her name over the industrial bank of poker machines lurking nearby.
However, that doesn’t have to mean the death of live original music. It just means creative people might need to become a bit more creative.
In February, Melbourne drum and violin duo the Twoks performed two sets of original music at a small venue called The Newsagency in Marrickville, only two kilometres from the Annandale Hotel. The venue was at its full - albeit very limited - capacity. The nearest poker machine was at a pub down the road. And the audience listened in silence from beginning to end.
The entire show felt more like a house party. And perhaps that’s because The Newsagency is, in fact, somebody’s home. However, these determined residents have installed a small stage and a PA system in their front room to host small gigs. Apparently, the biggest inconvenience is cleaning the toilets, which might be why the Annandale stopped cleaning theirs at some point in the late 1980s.
Meanwhile, efforts to preserve the Annandale as a live-music venue are in full swing. Led by mayor Darcy Byrne, Leichhardt Council has passed a new “Good Neighbour Policy” to address many of the challenges live-music venues have faced in the past. Much to the disgust of its former owners, the mayor has also invited the receivers of the Annandale to apply for the same late-trading licence they were unable to get during their tenure. Cruel as the timing may be for those who just handed over the keys, this is ultimately a good thing for the venue.
There is no doubt Sydney would be poorer without live music at the Annandale Hotel, just as it has been since the Hopetoun went. However, with or without these iconic venues, songwriters will always find somewhere to share their stories with those who want to listen. And if you look hard enough, you can find great venues anywhere, from old news agencies to dilapidated pubs.
-Daniel Slack-Smith
