By Tamsin Kemp
Lake George is moody, with low mists hanging and sun spikes illuminating water sections as though choreographed. I need to pull over for a conversation with Mr Brian Canham, and this atmospheric vista, looking for all the world like a Pseudo- Echo film clip, tells me this must be the place.
Pseudo Echo, heroes of the 1980s pop-synth scene, are touring again. They have been busy over the last ten years, playing early and recent material and soaking up the decades of love that remain alive and well for them nationwide.
Listening, their first single and a huge hit, was released in 1983. The lead track from Autumnal Park, the 1984 album, the song situated these young men from Melbourne at the top of the Australian music scene.
I take this opportunity to ask Brian how that first venture unfolded and what that experience was like.
“When we signed to EMI [which happened before the first single released], they understood where we wanted to go,” Brain reveals. “They were involved with rounding up the first people we worked with. They approached Peter (Mclean, Vogue magazine photographer) to make our first clip.
“He had a keenly stylistic eye, was posh and cultured, and given that Katie (Pye, fashion designer with a significant reputation of her own) was his partner, it all fell in place.
“We were really into avant-garde fashion, so it was perfect,” he says, paying particular homage to the hair and make-up team.
“We were a big happy family.”
Brian also pays respects to the bands that carved a path for their success. Of the New Romantics, Brain states:
“They were instrumental in us finding our way. Older kids had put me onto bands like Japan, Simple Minds, and Human League. Ultravox was another massively influential one, image-wise and sonically.”
Brian is clear they were chasing something different from the start, not “the seventies left-over rock and roll”.
The ‘80s heralded profound technological advances in music, particularly in synthesisers. I was interested in asking what influence the technology—synths with effects, sequencing, and built-in tracks, for example—had on the band’s direction.
“It was incredible,” Brian says with pure enthusiasm. “There were virtually no keyboard players around, but the more I studied pop music and what was on the radio, the more I realised it was keyboards I was hearing. That rich sound… I was soon obsessed with keyboards.”
Brian recalls his fortuitous friendship with a local music store at the time. “They were so encouraging; they would loan me all the latest technology,” he says. “I would bring them home and go through all the sounds and all the dials… spending hours exploring and creating.
“All Pseudo Echo songs were written from technology… We were obsessed with the latest thing”.
And it worked. The band enjoyed widespread success, with singles from their first two albums charting strongly, especially Funkytown from 1986’s Love an Adventure, which found itself high in the UK, US, Canadian and NZ charts.
But how do young people not long out of high school cope with this level of exposure? Brian is candid: “The fame became intrusive in my personal life,” he admits. “I couldn’t get out a lot… it was starting to restrict my life. I craved being normal again.”
But normal can be, well, average. How do you cope when it all quiets down?
“It’s an interesting question,” Brian says. “It’s a real point in most artists’ careers – where you’re at the top of the rollercoaster, and then there’s the down ramp.” He takes a moment to contemplate before continuing.
“When it started to wane, around the third album, it started to plummet,” he reflects. “It was so quick; we were the biggest band in the country one moment, and the next, we were struggling to sell out shows.
“I was actually embracing it, thinking finally, thank God. Not only did I want a break from the limelight, but I was increasingly intrigued with music production.
“I liked [production] a lot,” Brian enthuses. “I liked that you didn’t have the pressure of being a star. I got into writing jingles for commercials and documentaries… so I had a creative outlet where I didn’t deal with the pressures of fame and celebrity status.
“My parents and brothers were really good to me during this time,” Brian fondly recalls.
“That supported me a lot. And children shifted my priorities. That’s how I got through.”
Brian can’t speak highly enough of the positive influence of family and friends, a good reminder to keep our relationships strong. Of course, looking after his health certainly helped.
“Fortunately, I never got anywhere near any drugs or excessive alcohol and that probably saved me too.”
Is there a balance to be found? Living not in the jaws of the fame monster but still in pursuit of creative desires? With success comes possibilities, but how do aspirations get fulfilled when fame disappears?
“You have to be pretty tough,” Brian asserts. “All of sudden, fewer people will return your calls, and fewer people will be making a fuss about you. And it happens quick. It’s a hard thing. “I explored a different view of my life… I enjoyed my producing career, working with Chocolate Starfish and making their record.”
Photo by Dean Grande
Did Pseudo Echo still have stories to tell, though? A chance meeting in a Sydney club in the mid-’90s suggested they did. Stepping in to cover for a New Year’s Eve gig the Pointer Sisters pulled out of was the beginning of another chapter for the band.
“I put together a version of Pseudo Echo,” Brains says, “and spent a hell of a lot of time honing the sound, making sure everything was authentic, because I didn’t want to go out and do a half-assed version; I wanted it to be really polished.”
While clearly having continued a creative career, Brian is honest about the hit to his self-belief.
“I’d lost all my confidence; most of my peers told me we’d had our day. They can be pretty brutal.
“But we did the show, and it was a screaming success,” he extols. “I was utterly overwhelmed; thousands of people screaming and singing our songs.
“Since that night, the phones have started ringing.”
Was this the beginning of a cunning comeback strategy?
“There wasn’t really a plan; I did just that one-off show and next thing, bang, we’re back on… going with the flow. Another rollercoaster upward.” So, what changed to bring us the stable, regularly touring, new album-producing band we have seen in the last decade?
“I completely changed my life,” Brain reveals.
It is here that Brian speaks tenderly of the death of his father in 2012.
“It had the most significant impact of my life… painful and disruptive. It put a whole new perspective on everything; everything I thought was painful or worrisome wasn’t any more.
“That’s when I re-evaluated my life. I took strength from my father’s passing; it helped me by putting everything in perspective.”
The trajectory changes included divorce and living alone at nearly fifty for the first time in his life. The next piece of the jigsaw arrived in Raquel, his now wife and manager.
“I bumped into this lovely woman randomly over the years,” Brain says with a smile. “We found each other again, and it was incredible.”
Brian tells me with obvious affection how pivotal Raquel is in Brian and the band’s return to thriving.
“She pointed out the horde of gold records and awards, stating, ‘You have all this history’,” he says. “Bit by bit, we started building this team of nice people… with a good heart and the right passion. My confidence soared.” Pseudo Echo “just did 45 theatre dates, massive visuals, sold out shows… really a lot of credit to my wife. She’s an engineer of perfection.”
Awwwwww!
How lucky we are that the melodious journey continues. Another album, a book, and even acting may be on the horizon. But that is the far future; what of the imminent? What can we expect from the MACHINE Tour?
“We go right through the catalogue of the songs we know the audience wants to hear, and we put some surprises in there and some homages… a bit of jamming. We won’t feel our job is done until we know it’s brought the house down.”
Pseudo Echo brings their MACHINE tour to The Baso on Friday, 21 June. Doors open at 7pm, and tickets are $59 via Oztix.