Released 1996, Doing the Dishes is 10 songs, nearly 40 minutes of music. I wrote all the songs, played most of the parts. It was recorded on a 16 track reel-to-reel tape machine in the various places I lived in over 2 years, and mixed the old-fashioned way in real time, moving faders and pots on a 24 channel analog desk with my modest collection of outboard gear and whatever I could borrow.I was lucky enough to be helped by many musicians from the rich musical community of the far south coast of NSW, including Ken Vatcher on drums, old friends John McVeity and former band-mate Slim Pickens playing bass on a few songs,Guest appearances include Neil Graham on harmonica, Pol O’Shea and Bruce Mathiske playing some electric guitar solos. The album was created with love, plenty of time, and attention to detail. I had a lot of fun doing it. Finally, all the work I had put in, refining the many skills, taking out a loan to buy some decent recording equipment, spending countless hours learning how to play in time, sing in tune, discovering by trial and error over years how to get good sounds onto tape with very basic microphones and equipment – it was all coming together. Hope you enjoy the songs. My favourite track is Desperate, written around 1994 and polished by playing it live in a band with harmonica from Neil Graham, John McVeity on bass, Ken Vatcher on drums and moi on the guitars and keyboards and breaking bottles ( for careful listeners ). The lyrics don't seem to have become inappropriate, and a new version will be on my next album...DesperateWe live in desperate timesdesperate criminals, desperate crimescorporate empires out of controlselling our souls for fool’s goldHow come I always feel so desperate?Don't know no more what's false or real so desperateHave you ever seen a man who lives in total fearhis eyes hug the ground, won't let no-one neartried to find a mirror so I could sympathizeI shouldn't have bothered I just couldn't catch my eyeI find myself out in the streetpicking through the garbage for something to eatfires of hell in my brainas I watch it all go down in flamesHow come I always feel so desperate?Don't know no more what's false or real so desperateOld Mother Nature lying in the streetrobbed raped and beaten, crying in defeatthe milk of human kindness souring in the breastthe children are frightened, there's very little leftthe sheep won't pull the wool from their eyesthe butcher is waiting honing his knifethe business men are laughing all the way to the bankthe whole ship's sinking we're walking the plank