From 2001-2009 I was as a fork truck operator for Altered State's major event construction crew, the company who managed the Perth Big Day Out.

 

In 2000 I quit my miserable warehouse job and enrolled in a Music Industry Skills course at Leederville TAFE Music Campus. I took the opportunity to sign up to work on setting up the 2001 Big Day Out on Bassendean Oval. I was ready to rock and get involved in something I'd been a punter of since Perth's first BDO in 1093.

 

Erecting kilometers of perimeter temp fencing in the heat wasn't what I was expecting but later down the track I'd crossover to heavy machinery operator driving telescopic fork trucks, scissor lifts and cherry pickers.

 

I was excited to catch superstar DJ Carl Cox headline. I was standing backstage when his ride turned up. He piled out with his posse and I called out Hey Carl! He heard me, turned around and saw me waving. He pushed through the crowd and came over and shook my hand. I said I looked forward to his set and he demanded that he see me there and took off. I flashed my AAA and made my way side stage and caught his attention to which he yelled my name and took another swig from his magnum of champagne as industrial fans cooled him down as he spun records.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Site operations were managed from the demountable site office located in the backstage area. BDO construction crews were a mixture of amature musos, tradies and crusty bogans. Site crew supervisors varied but their competence would inevitably be exposed as the event deadline loomed closer everyday.

 

A perspective on the Bogan mentality. Each day the wife of the old Hiab operator would cook our lunch on the BBQ but she’d always undercook the sausages and burn the onions. She'd buy cheap white bread and B&G tomato sauce. I was usually the last to get my lunch because I’d cook my snaggers for longer. Call me crazy.

 

Walking away with my food I passed the crew all sitting on the rough bitumen crouched up against a shipping container trying to avoid the hot sun by soaking in a narrow strip of steaming shade with their knees up against their chests as they ate their raw lunch.

 

Not very far away was a luscious green cool shady tree area where I was headed. I invited them to join me, but they all declined my offer and said they were fine, so I left them alone and kicked back in comfort with my boots off and ate my lunch.

 

The next day, the lunch lady was absent so given my italian restaurant background I volunteered to cook lunch. I BBQ'd the sausages to perfection and sautéed the onions nicely, buttered the bread and slightly toasted it on the hot plate. Perfect. Everyone complained, and I wasn't asked to cook lunch again, so I brought my own food and spent my lunch times in over in paradise.

 

Fucken bogans. Liable labour fodder. Pointless unprovoked conflict was usually inevitable. One of the most extraordinary bogans to ever join the crew was Tarzan. He'd turn up to work shirtless in thongs, shorts with a mullet slapped on a fkn rude head stuck on Tarzan's body. He was extremely obnoxious and spoke pure Ocker using classic aussie terms like Dinky Die, Struth, Ridgey Didge and Bonza. Tarzan provided regular bursts of gut aching laughter but his recklessness on site made him a major liability so I avoided him, but they let him drive around like an unlicensed drunk.

 

In 2005 I joined the Sydney BDO construction crew as a fork truck driver. I was warned by the promoter that his fork crew were a bunch of cowboys and they literally wore cowboy hats as they drove forklifts around Olympic Park, a concrete jungle that constantly reflected heat. This BDO was a completely different ballgame compared to WA. The crews were larger, crustier and they worked 24 hour split shifts, day and night. Probably the biggest fucken pain in the arse job was rolling out hundreds of metres of Porta-Floor, connected plastic tiles, to cover the ground in order to protect the grass from damage. As predicted, the crowd to tore it apart.

 

Without unpacking too much, Sydney BDO harboured one of the biggest dickheads I ever met called Banana. He gave me a really hard time because I was from Perth, which wasn't a first. That gig was a nightmare. I was the only one not speeding off my face so I lost a lot of sleep. I was so tired I was accused of being a smackhead. 

 

My aim was to meet The Hives who weren't playing in WA. Those poor Swedish dudes performed in the scorching heat. As soon as they finished their set they ran back stage tore off their suits and stripped down to their jocks with their pants around their ankles. I didn't get to say hi but instead I had a close encounter with Slipknot as they walked passed me in full costume on their way to the main stage. I could see the detail on their rubber masks. Lastly, the tall dark cyborg guitarist stopped, looked down at me through his monster mask and exhaled like Darth Vader then made his way to the stage. Cool as fuck. I'm not a fan but their stage presence and control over the crowd was remarkable. He said sit and thousands sat, stand and thousands stood. An awesome display of drumming and percussion.

 

I was fortunate enough to jump on the art department as well to help decorate the Inner Sanctum where the artists hung out and chilled in their containers. I took exceptional pride of decorating the Chemical Brothers container with a mind blowing design. I wrapped their container in black plastic with the intention of creating an analogue geometric infinite horizon with bright green electrical tape. I was shifted back to forklift duty and intended to begin the design the next day. When I arrived excited to get working on it, the old hippy lady who ran the art department, with no clue who the Chemical Brothers were, let a group of kids go nuts with paints. Not great. Bloody Spanner Throwers.

 

The Chemical Brothers performed brilliantly, as usual. Before the Beastie Boys hit the stage, The Lords of Lightning flicked the switch on their giant Tesla Coil they installed on the grounds surrounded by a temp fence barrier. Thick bright blue branches of electricity shot out of it, zapping meters from my face. Impressive!

But dickheads chucked water bottles so it was shut down. Gotta say, BDO attracted its fair share of fuckheads. I don't miss those oblivious shirtless himbos who appeared in the later years. The generational shift of the audience's attitude towards getting smashed and waisted changed the vibe completely. That didn't sit well with me and it was one of the main factors of my resignation. Hundreds of pissed cashed up bogans charged up by popular ferocious bands. Tragedy was inevitable. The death of two young girls exemplified the lack of BDO management.

 

I met Mike Patton (Faith No More) while catching Jurassic 5. This guy in a truckers cap in front of me turns around and asks me "what do I think of these guys?" I say "Yeah they're cool, but I'm waiting for the next band." "Oh that's my band" he says. "Oh hey Mike! I'm Ivan!", we shake hands. J5 end, Mike turns to me and says OK come with me. So I follow Mike Patton backstage. I stop at the stage steps and he turns and says "no I want you here!" pointing to the edge of the stage. I'm like, really? He's insistent "here here!" So, I'm standing on the corner of the stage with Tomahawk and Buzz from The Melvins and Fantomas is looking at me puzzled. I'm looking at the audience and they're looking at me. This is really cool, but awkward. The band explodes and Mike is triggering off various vocal effects and custom microphones. I slowly step right back but Mike's making sure I'm still there soaking up the performance. Unforgettable. Mission accomplished Mike, unforgetable.

 

 

 

One year I said G'day to Dave Grohl as he passed me backstage and another time I met Mars Volta. I also briefly met The Strokes on their way to the stage but I turned into a gibbering mess. So, in future, to avoid further embarrassment, I came up with The Brush with Fame. I'd sit on the limestone stepped hill backstage and wait for bands to step pass me on the way to their performances. The White Stripes came by. Jack was dressed like an immaculate outlaw mariachi and Meg was gushing cuteness in her 70's sportswear, shorts and tight t-shirt with her socks pulled up to her knees and hair in ponytails. Iggy Pop jogged down the steps, shirtless and raring to go with The Stooges behind him. He limped back up after that legendary show.

 

Metallica came down fingering their guitars and Lars was tapping his drumsticks on his legs. We built Metallica Land which consisted of 5 containers, one each and a meeting room, surrounded by fencing covered in black plastic for privacy. During the day, Metallica met every one of their WA fans posing for pictures and signing merchandise and memorabilia. Respect. Never a big fan but they performed beyond my expectations. Refined craftsmen indeed. Actually I was going from them to The Flaming Lips, whose show was so wacky and cool. I'll never forget standing right at the back and seeing the view of the stage be distracted by heaps of bouncing coloured beach balls.

 

After Metallica's performance closed the show, it was time to dismantle fences to make way for the production trucks, and roadies dismantling stage gear. The crowd moved away leaving behind a sea of rubbish to wade through. Miraculously, I found a plectrum with a caricature of then new bass player Robert Trujillo who joined us for a beer at the Site Office afterwards.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So, after nine years, I didn't have another one in me, so I decided to give it away. And that 9th year I quit, I finally got to go to the after party!

 

As I wandered around the grounds with a AAA around my neck going from stage to stage through No Man's Land (the back way) I'd usually check out acts I wasn't familiar with and I wanted to catch Kate Nash, a young english singer, but I missed her show so I went to see the legendary Billy Bragg. A few songs into his set, Billy introduces Kate Nash on stage. She passes by a row of electric fans that blow her skirt up, but she handles it stylishly with a cute blush, a naughty smile and says "well, now you've all seen my knickers". She sings with Billy and I become smitten by her voice, charm and loveliness.

 

Later on Bjork was performing before Rage Against The Machine and the crowd was moving over towards the opposite stage to her. "I know you guys wanna rock out real bad but I HAVEN"T FINISHED MY SET YET!" she yells. She should have played in the Boiler Room because this crowd were geared up for Rage Against The Machine.

 

As I wandered towards the mixing desk, my good old BDO buddy Damo appears from out of the crowd with the giant glittering Golden Cookie (Ken West's Access Any Area Any Time No Questions Asked laminate). He puts it over my neck and whisks me up into the lighting tower right in front of the stage. This is exactly how my time at BDO should end.

 

I looked down at an ocean of people chanting RAGE RAGE RAGE! RATM burst on stage with Sleep Now in the Fire. Unfuckingreal. As much as we wanna bounce and go off our brains, we can't. We'd knock the spot light operators around, so we sung along and punched the air like hell. Unforgettable. I took footage of that incredible view but that phone was stolen before I could save the video. Spewing!

 

After Rage's set, we made our way into the Inner Sanctum (backstage area) for a beer. Usually I'd be tearing down fences and working till 3 am packing down, but not this year. I'm done. Wandering around, we sat on a random car seat sipping our beers, but we unintentionally stumbled into Bjorks mini private party. She notices us, stops dancing and gets on her phone pointing in our direction. Oh shit, we better go. Damo says "lets go to the after party". "What? How?" "Easy, we just wait for the shuttle bus." The shuttle turns up and we hop on, no questions asked. After all these bloody years, I had no idea it was that easy! Billy Bragg and Kate Nash hop on and sit in front of me. They're having a laugh drinking from a magnum of champagne. Now I'm fantasizing about meeting Kate Nash at the after party!

 

The bus pulls up at the Duxton Hotel. On the way into the party a doorman puts a hawaiian leis over me, a waiter hands me a Strawberry Daiquiri. I'm blown away. I find some crew I know and start mingling. I notice there's a separation between the artists and us. Understandable, but the night is young.

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As time passes I'm wondering around nodding hello to these people I have in my music collection. It's a cool but surreal feeling. I managed to shake Tom Morello's hand and say a quick hello. Suddenly, Zac De La Rocha arrives. He's oozing coolness and confidence. He stops at the doorway, smiles, does a Fonz move and strides in like the life of the party. And he was.

 

He makes his way onto the dance floor and in seconds he magnitizes about ten women. Eventually, they're all dirty dancing around him and formed a conga line. I remember some dudes gasping in their chairs watching their girlfriends grope Zac and get groped by Zac, this untouchable rock idol who just blew their brains on stage a few hours ago. No shit, that guy could have banged every chick in that room effortlessly. He was on fire. Fortunately I got to shake his hand and say hi too.

 

I'm standing around looking awkward and I notice Kate Nash and Bjork chatting alone across the room. Ok here's my chance to meet Kate AND Bjork, awesome! I start to make my way over to them and Bjork sees me coming and gives me the fucking evilest weirdest fuck off face so I shit my pants and make a U turn. I suspect she remembered me gate crashing her party earlier that night. Innocently!

 

The night rolled on and my attempt to meet Kate was looking unlikely to happen so I just partied on. Late in the night, everyone was nicely toasted and I found myself on the dance floor with Billy Brag, Rage Against the Machine, Silverchair and Bjork and I just laughed and thought, wow what a cool as fuck way to end an era.

 

As I'm grooving away I swing around and notice someone standing over near the entrance. It's Kate. She's holding a half empty magnum of champagne and a half empty glass spilling onto the floor. She's also having trouble standing, and she's got that pissed ladette look going on.

 

Finally our eyes meet. I guess she might know I've been checking her out all night. She attempts to make a smile but she's shit faced. She takes a few staggery steps towards the dance floor but manages to stumble off course. I'm thinking do I help her out and risk being bitten by Bjork? I could make it to her room and spend the rest of the night holding back her hair while she spews her guts up, then wake up in the morning with her screaming "who the fuck are you?".

 

Or it could all work out like a fairy tale. Bullshit. Sorry Kate think I'll pass. She turns around makes her way out and is gone. I get back to grooving with rock idols.

 

Sometimes her music clip pops up, and I have a chuckle.