XAVIER RUDD CONNECTS TO SPIRIT

SUBJECT Xavier Rudd

OCCUPATION Musician

INTERVIEWER Lydia Fairhall

PHOTOGRAPHERS Solomon Scopazzi and Arterium

LOCATION Gubbi Gubbi country

DATE June 2019

ANTIDOTE TO Pessimism

UNEXPECTED Outside muso

There is something pretty special about connecting with an artist who has thrived and survived the emerging and mid-career stages of their practice. Even more so when they are an artist who has lived; an artist who has used their creativity for advocacy, justice and politics. Xavier Rudd is no stranger to accolades and success, having carved out a formidable career as a songwriter, performer and musician over the past 20 years. But he is not the type of artist who is motivated by such things—he is well known for his stance on environmentalism and animal rights, and for promoting the strength and resilience of First Nations culture within Australia.

Although an extremely skilled and avid performer—sometimes even performing as a one-man band playing Yidaki, guitar, percussion and vocals at once—Xavier is first and foremost a prolific songwriter. His latest release, Storm Boy, is a fine example of how to walk the delicate line between raising awareness and maintaining hope. In the first track off the album, “Walk Away,” Xavier shares the liberation of letting go, and of seeing an old version of himself in others who are holding on too tightly. It is these words that make me realise I too have an outdated notion of what his inner world must be like. I’m a little ashamed to admit that when we meet, I am surprised by his wisdom, calmness and even Eldership. But apparently after decades of non-stop touring across Australia, the US and Europe, and the myriad of life experiences and connections that only that type of traversing can bring, you do learn a thing or two. Xavier is neither a voracious activist, nor a middle-aged muso who has become apathetic. He is warm, gentle, funny and wise.

As we speak, he invokes a sense of the environment around him. I am all too familiar with the country he is on, having grown up there myself. I can smell the lemon scented tea trees, feel the relief of winter approaching after a long, humid summer and hear the yellow-tailed black cockatoos feeding in small but noisy flocks. I am instantly faced with a pang of homesickness. And although I try to inspire (persuade?) him to offer up vast and complex visions of truth and understanding, it becomes quite clear that his truth is a simple one. His words end up inspiring me to let go, lighten up, stop thinking so much and to revel in the simplistic beauty of a fire in the backyard, a first-class yarn and the companionship of a good dog. He is the modern-day spiritual warrior: one who has been to war and fought and come home, still believing and passionate about all of the things he was fighting for, but never again prepared to bear arms for the sake of peace.

“That sadness that we feel when we see desperate times and we see desperate people, and we hear of all the youth suicide and all the shit that’s going on. That sadness, as it always has, gives us power.”