For the love of the music

A growing number of young Melbournians fall under the category of “struggling musician”. I caught up with Aaron Gillett to see how hard it really is, and what it takes to break into the music industry.

When I arrive at the café-like venue, the ‘house band’ is already playing to an attentive crowd. There is standing room only, and I squeeze in between a couch and a speaker. The acoustics of the café ensures that you cannot escape the soulful sounds coming from the stage. Red lights fill the roof, and reflect off the neutrally dressed crowd. An unsealed back door leaks a steady stream of smoke into the room, creating the fitting ambience of a film noir.

Aaron keeps his eyes closed for the majority of the gig, switching seamlessly between harmonica solos and backup guitar. A guy sitting nearby informs me that Aaron is an “old soul” in music terms, having a love and appreciation for the blues, but sadly born 50 years too late.

As soon as his set is finished, he is swamped with onlookers wanting to show appreciation and a chat. He has come a long way from the 16 year old that used to hang around pubs with his harmonica in his pocket, hoping to get to play with the band on stage. At 6ft 9”, he is easy to recognise. When we finally sit down he looks exhausted, but his eyes show the adrenaline is still pumping.

He first picked up an instrument at the late age of 15. The music bug didn’t bite until a year later when he realised that music was a good life choice, inspired by his music teacher’s relaxed lifestyle. Even a quick chat reveals the extent of his musical knowledge, name-dropping the greats of jazz and blues with the passion of someone who had lived through the golden era. “I think it’s important to know the background of your music genre”, he states. “Your influences shape you, not only musically, but personally”.

I wonder out loud how hard it really is to dedicate your life to music. Aaron responds logically, “Financially it can get difficult, but at the end of the day, music is the greatest job and you have to remember that”. Aaron teaches music privately to primary school aged kids, with the money earned largely going to new instruments or electrical equipment. But, it’s more than just a job, with Aaron naming his students in his list of biggest inspirations. “It’s amazing to see the huge amount of passion and talent these kids have at such a young age, I’ve even coaxed a few to take up the harmonica!”

Every musician knows that gigs are an effective way to get noticed. As Aaron frequents local nightspots, he is getting recognised and scouted to perform bigger and better venues as a headline act with singer and guitarist Lachlan Gardner. While the exposure is welcome, he feels more at home and is faithful to the small venues that supported him through his first nervous performances.

One performance sticks uncomfortably in his memory. Aaron had been invited by an unknown band to come and play his harmonica at one of their gigs. He refers to this as the ‘blind date’. The band had neglected to mention that the Cherry Bar had an unofficial dress code of black trench coats. When the singer announced to the crowd that they had a special guest harmonica player for their set, Aaron felt all eyes on him. Wearing a pink shirt and shorts, it was quite obviously to everyone that this was the new ‘guest’.

Refreshingly, Aaron isn’t hell-bent on “making it” – being uninterested in music hysteria forums such as Idol – rather preferring a life of music appreciation over stardom. I realise that this may be a forced choice, as the commercial market has little demand for jazz and blues. Yet, Aaron is encouraged by locals such as Xavier Rudd and Ash Grunwald, whose massive talents are being recognised by the mainstream music contingent. These musicians often have a more costly and lengthy rise to fame, most under independent record labels and self-funded. Aaron is unfazed by this path, commenting that the Melbourne Fringe Music scene is a positive one. “There is almost camaraderie with the musicians, and we always support each other and give advice”.

Support is a crucial factor in Aaron’s life and career, as I glance over to see his mum still front-and-centre to the stage. His parents sensed his disinterest in conventional curriculum early on, and helped him in applying for numerous music programs and an eventual tertiary course. But, not all are as lucky, “Most parents find it hard to accept that their child won’t become a doctor or a lawyer, as some see a music career as ‘bludging’ – which is far from the truth”.

“Luckily for me, my parents have always been extremely supportive, and have provided everything I need.”

I find it unusual and encouraging that a man of such a blues influence is only 20. Even his image, check shirt and signature bowler hat, screams ‘musician’. I can’t help but be excited when Aaron talks about his influences of Robert Johnson and Sunny Terry, his gangly body gestures and bright eyes are contagious. It’s easy to get off topic when philosophising about the greatest contributions to music, this being his favourite procrastination pastime.

The ratio of musicians to success stories is an unbalanced one, “I think there is definitely an element of luck needed to make a profitable career out of music. You can only hope to be at the right place at the right time, but I am a firm believer that hard work does pay off – you have to get yourself out there”.

“But it would be nice to magically end up sitting next to Bono on a long haul flight!” he says.

A tap on the shoulder breaks our conversation momentarily, as a man with a beer in hand points cheerfully at me, and then Aaron. “If Miles Davis could play harmonica, he’d be this guy!” I can’t disagree. His talent is undeniable, as is his personality and pure love for what he does. Aaron just laughs at this stunt, and I am unsure whether the comment was preconceived or spontaneous.

A waitress comes over and hands Aaron $50, already broken into smaller notes to be divided between himself and his band member of the night. Tonight it’s Simon Weston. He graciously accepts it, and turns to me. “Well, that’s one less tobacco pouch I have to think about!”

I can see Aaron compulsively twirling his beloved harmonica on the coffee table. It’s hard to believe that he originally picked up the instrument as a means to attract girls. Yet, he reflects on how it was impromptu musical challenge that gave him the desire to want to improve his skills. After a gig, Aaron noticed Josh Teskey (of the Teskey Brothers fame) had been in the audience, and asked Aaron if he could play a song on his harmonica. Aaron agreed, and immediately tried to better Josh’s performance. A heated harmonica competition followed between the two. Song after song, they tried to outdo each other. “After about an hour, I conceded defeat” Aaron reflects. “But, since that, I practiced day and night. Revenge was the push I needed”, he chuckles.

Aaron is still awaiting the rematch.

It’s not hard to find Aaron, generally spending his weekends at the iconic ‘Espy’ hotel in St Kilda. Or in his opinion, “Melbourne’s central blues scene hub” of St Andrew’s pub. Always in the smokers room, beer in hand and foot tapping enthusiastically to the music on offer.

So, what lies ahead for Aaron Gillett? “Immediately, perfecting my live performances. Later? Try recording with Lachlan, and hopefully release something in the next couple of years”. It is obvious that he is more comfortable in front of a small crowd than a recording studio. I have decided that Aaron really is in his element in the small café in Eltham, with his infectious relaxed and carefree persona. But the career options seem endless, with his course opening up various avenues, such as production, song writing, sound technics, etc. With the talk of careers, it is obvious that Aaron is deliriously happy and appreciative of his current situation.

“Hey! I’m unaffected by the global economic crisis”, he quips.