It’s been ten years since Peter Bibby dropped his scrappy, beer-soaked debut album, Butcher / Hairstylist / Beautician, and to mark the occasion, he’s hitting the road with a bang. Joining him on drums is Nick Allbrook (Pond) and Johnny Baird on bass.
Originally released in 2014, Butcher / Hairstylist / Beautician is back for its 10th anniversary on 180g solid orange vinyl. Reflecting on the re-release, Bibby says, “It’s hard to believe that 10 years has passed since we dropped this absolute haymaker of a record. Those heady Melbourne days seem like they were just yesterday. I felt a bit nervous, like I was going to cringe my way through the tracks. I was pleasantly surprised, choosing to change nothing as it is completely unbroken and in need of no fixing.”
Bibby continues, “Butcher / Hairstylist / Beautician holds a very special place in my heart, the record that put me on the map, full of songs I wrote before anyone really gave a shit. It’s pure and unaffected by the outside world and paints a detailed picture of a very different time in my life.”
Bibby’s latest album, Drama King, meanwhile, cemented his status as one of Australia’s most underrated rock songwriters. The record saw him embracing sobriety and reflecting on his hell-raising past with raw honesty.
To celebrate his landmark album anniversary and tour, and his reunion with his old bandmates, Bibby and Allbrook sat down for a chat about singlets, busking mishaps, and why rendering walls might just be more fulfilling than making music.
Find Peter Bibby’s upcoming tour dates and tickets here.
Nick Allbrook Interviews Peter Bibby
Nick Allbrook (A): What would you think of yourself if you met you at a party?
Peter Bibby (B): It depends on the party. There are equal chances I would love or hate me. I think mostly I would think, “I don’t think that guy likes me…” which wouldn’t be true, but I do like to keep people on their toes.
A: The other night at Mojo’s there was a drunk man next to you presenting a fascinating theory about the prevalence of the “singlet” in music today. All I can remember from his treatise was something like, “…The guy from the Slingers wears a singlet, and you were wearing a singlet tonight, and – fuck me! – Nick’s wearing a singlet right now!” Can you shed any light onto this investigation of the shifting sands of the Australian music scenes’ sartorial preferences?
B: Well Nick, I’m glad you asked. Having studied deeply the fashion trends of Australian Rock Bands, I believe I can shed all of the light onto this fascinating anomaly. The Garment Formerly Known As A Wife Beater (now called a Wife Lover or simply a Singlet) is making a triumphant takeover on stages across the nation as it looks really good, is super comfy, and provides the majority of the upper body with cooling relief from the sweltering heat of the stage. These are the only reasons, trust me, I have studied it.
A: What (if any) are the differences between rendering and being in a music band?
B: Funnily enough, they are strikingly similar! The main difference is you don’t usually render walls in front of an audience (but you can!), however you can record the audio of rendering walls. Sand and cement have an incredible timbre when spread across a brick wall. The other key difference is that music band just isn’t as good, or as enjoyable as rendering walls. Rendering walls is commonly referred to as one of the most enjoyable things you can do, whereas playing in music band is not.
A: What is the most strange experience you’ve had while busking?
B: There were many strange encounters back in my busking days, and I will share with you this one. One night around 1am on James Street in Northbridge, I decided to take a break from the singing and the strumming and I lit a cigarette and sat down. A large man approached me and asked if he could have a go on my guitar, I told him to go for it. He went for it alright, regardless of the fact he couldn’t play or sing to save his own life he went for it hard and loud. I finished my cigarette and told him it was time to give the guitar back.
“This is my guitar!” He told me.
“No, it’s definitely my guitar.” I replied.
“John Fogerty gave me this guitar!!”
“Pretty sure John Fogerty gave me that guitar..”
He started to walk away with the guitar still strapped on. I unclipped the strap and slid the guitar out from his arms. He spun around, enraged and yelled, “YOU DOG! YOU KNOW WHO I AM??”
I asked him his name.
“I’M GOD!” he yelled, as he disappeared into the night.
A: Describe your surroundings when you first decided you wanted to become a guitar god, god of guitar.
B: I was in my parents living room, approximately 15-years-old, blazed out of my noggin after inhaling two large bucket bongs, dosed upon me by my older brother and his buddies. I had rented Woodstock, Three Days of Peace, Love and Music on VHS from my local Video Ezy, and I was watching the Jimi Hendrix section. Gobsmacked, and with a bit of a stiffy in my pants, I decided then and there that I simply must be a guitar god, god of guitar.
Peter Bibby Interviews Nick Allbrook
Peter Bibby: You have quite the knack for music journalism, have you received any formal training or are you self-taught?
Nick Allbrook: I did no formal training, attended no conservatorium, and toiled under no master but the never-ending dialogue between “classic rock” magazines and their “readers” about which albums of the 60’s and 70’s were the “best.” This was in the days when internet said “BLEEEPAWOOWOOPSSSTTT” so it was preferable to save up my lunch money to get the latest dissection of Dark Side of the Moon at an age when that was worth reading, before, like the actual dark side of the moon, the mysteries of the universe were laid bare for every fuckwit to quickly scroll over while sitting on the toilet.
B: How about music? Any lessons in vocals, guitar, flute or other instruments?
A: My father, Mickoras Walrus III, bought me a guitar teacher at age 16, he survived long enough to give me 10 whole lessons before I went on school leavers and forgot to feed him for a whole month, and he sadly passed away.
B: You’re a keen runner. Does running play a role in your art?
A: I guess so, in the sense that it brings me great joy and routine and mental clarity, and those are things that make art making a bit easier. There have been a couple times when I thought of songs while running, but usually it’s just a really nice thing to do that is part of a healthy habit that social media says is good for you.
B: For the first time in approximately 10 years you’re playing drums in my band. Do you feel more pressure playing drums than you do singing?
A: It is a different pressure. It’s the sharp pressure of a rock solid beater ricocheting back against my tibia every time I kick the kick drum. Also the pressure of being quite a novice drummer and knowing that if i truly fuck up the whole song will fall to shit. But it’s less pressure because everyone is looking at and listening to you. Peter Bibbums.
B: Are you relieved to finally be back where you were born to be, behind the drum kit?
A: Yes, I am very relieved. It’s the place I would most rather be than any other place except maybe for a day spa, with you, Peter Bibby, while being pummelled by jets of bubbles as you quietly tap tap away these questions on your handheld electronic device. Yeah nah, it’s sick to be back, I’ve missed it. I’m a bit inspired now to learn how to play like a real boy, not just a stupid dumb chimpanzee on meth.
