photograph courtesy Gab Bates December 2020
It’s a year since Old Man Crow left the stage, the saddest most magical year of my life.
“Poet Kahlil Gibran said, “The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.”
from The Geometry of Sorrow interview with Francis Weller
with thanks to Barry Ferrier, Pierre Luniere and John Kaldor for making Fairfarren a great send off for Old Man Crow
Barry Ferrier is a champion, here’s the songs he has edited so far from the Fairfarren opening at Artsite Contemporary when he played with Pierre Luniere and John Kaldor in honour of Rod Crow aka Roderick Morgan aka Old Man Crow (1947-2022)
Love this photo Richard Whitfield took at the opening of Fairfarren. Barry is a champion, his 40 minute set of Rod’s songs was magic, the audience was spellbound, it was a fine send off. Here’s Barry’s write up from over on FB;
“I returned home to the North Coast flood disaster a few days ago, driving through the drastic rain bomb that hit Sydney, after performing at the ‘Fairfarren’ exhibition at Artsite Contemporary in Camperdown, which is a celebration of the life and music of my recently departed, life-long friend, Roderick Morgan, aka ‘Old Man Crow’. The show is on at Artsite for two weeks.
Rod and his brilliantly talented partner Mo collaborated through art and music over three decades, and the remaining artworks from these years of fascinating creativity are on display in this very cool gallery space.
I was honoured to be invited by Mo to play a selection of Roderick’s finely crafted songs at the opening, and was grateful to be accompanied by two of Sydney’s finest musicians Pierre Luniere on bass guitar and harmonies, and John Kaldor on pedal steel guitar.
These fine gentlemen, though not knowing Roderick personally, took up the challenge and shared the musical adventure with me, and raised the performance to a sublime level with their skills and sensitivity – because they understand that pure love of the abstract beauty of music, and the camaraderie and mutual trust, which is at the essence of what makes being a musician so exciting.
The fact that Roderick’s songs are superbly crafted little masterpieces made the whole experience magical, and an audience of the people whom Roderick had touched in their lives who had gathered created a sacred celebratory atmosphere that moved us all, and was a fitting send off for Roderick, my great unsung hero.
But there is a very touching story here, behind the scenes. In the mid 70s when Roderick was launching his inner city grunge band ‘Sourpuss’ I made a trade with Roderick.
At the time I owned a powerful 4-way PA system, typical of the time, with huge bass bins and horns, crossovers, mixer – the whole caboodle – and I swapped this van load of electronic boxes and wires for Roderick’s beautiful early 70s, wine coloured, Gibson ‘Les Paul Deluxe’ electric guitar. I cherished this classic instrument when I played with Jeff St John, Skeleton Crew, and various other outfits in the late 70s.
Then, when my late wife, the extraordinary vocalist Cammie Landon, and I separated, I only owned two valuable items – the ‘Les Paul’ and my ‘L series’ Fender Stratocaster (destroyed in my house fire in the 90s). It was a painful parting, but I gave the Les Paul to Cammie, who then ironically sold it back to Roderick!
For decades it was a standing joke between us for Roderick to razz me about getting that unique guitar back, because he, of all people, knew just how majestic an instrument it was.
But such was the poetic nature of this fine human being that he had the final ‘last laugh’ – and just before leaving to play the Gallery opening, Mo told me that Roderick had bequeathed that once cherished Gibson guitar to me in his Will, along with his vintage Fender Blues Junior Amplifier!
I am now in guitar heaven, as the subsequent years of playing have made me appreciate it so much more than I could back then. I am debuting the rig this coming Sunday 13th at my first official gig with ‘Hubcap Stan and the Sidewalk Stompers’ at Eltham Pub.”
This arvo Barry Ferrier aka Doctor Baz will open the show at 4pm playing a selection of Old Man Crow’s songs with backing by Pierre Luniere on bass & John Kaldor on pedal steel
See you there!
Artsite Contemporary
a friend just sent this photo of Roderick from back in about 1976 at Julie’s place in Nimbin
Missing my magical man so much but as Oscar Wilde said “They were built out of music and so not built at all and therefore built forever”
The illustrated lyrics of Old Man Crow
listen to all 4 CDS on YouTube
Pt1
Pt2
Pt3
Pt4
& videos at rodshedmusic
Vale Roderick Wyn Morgan aka Old Man Crow
1947-2022
The cremation is scheduled for tomorrow morning at 7:30am Tuesday January 25th
I will make little bundles of Rod’s ashes to be scattered in the gardens we have known over the years
fly free magical man
carry my heart to the stars
On the day Roderick left the stage Barry Ferrier aka Dr Baz wrote this beautiful tribute
“I woke knowing my dear, life long friend Roderick Morgan was close to the abyss and news has now come through that he left the stage peacefully at 4:44 am this morning with Mo at his side. I feel so deeply for Roderick who has been an inspiration and such a constant in my life since I met him in the gothic halls of Sydney Uni cafeteria when I was 18. I am proud to be shedding real heartfelt tears for him now. I feel privileged to have shared so many tiny magic moments of hilarity, deep conversation, and music over the decades since we were naive uni students doubling around Glebe and Paddo on his Bultaco motorbike, him with big pink plastic ears glued to his bike helmet. That image still cracks me up. He always had such a wicked sense of humour. I smoked my first joint with Roderick under a palm tree in Bondi and dropped my first acid trip with him and a bunch of friends in the beautiful Blue Gum forest at the bottom of Govetts leap near Blackheath. All the crazy, deep and meaningful, silly times. Our shared house in Glebe when I first moved out of my parents home. Learning to sing in harmony with Roderick and my late wife Cammie when she was still at school. The mad trip to Melbourne to perform ‘the Milky Way Cabaret’ with Chris Clark and Cammie at the wonderful ‘Flying Trapeze Cafe’ and Roderick singing Alice Cooper’s ‘Cold Ethyl’ in a long red velvet coat, posturing hilariously with his red Les Paul guitar, on that tiny stage, with Lo-fi backing by Ernie Thud, the primitive drum machine, with only two beats. I remember the joy he radiated when he came up and stayed with me in Bangalow and we made some of the first recordings of his quirky, brilliant songs – must have been late 80s. I always felt he was an undiscovered genius with his songwriting. He had a unique voice. It was quite unexpected to me, after our glorious misspent arty youth, and his maths background, that he was to develop a love for and deep knowledge of plants and spent his life as a gardener. And his surprising mid-life passion for wind surfing, which inspired me to take that up too… and so many all night, drunken sessions, singing and laughing and raving on in your kitchen in Leichhardt, with our special close friends. It is so surreal when someone who is a rock in your life leaves you. I can only imagine the emotions his lifelong partner Mo is feeling though she is wise and strong, these are the hardest times, facing loss of someone so dear. It’s such a mystery. I only wish I could have been close at the end. Vale Roderick my true magical man. I am so grateful for the time we had together – Old Man Crow there will never be another like you.”
It's Crow Time 