By NOEL MURPHY
FEW musicians can turn their hand to as many tricks as blues legend Broderick Smith.
The singer-songwriter and blues harp Aussie icon might be renowned for his work with the Dingoes, Carson, Big Combo and solo work but he’s been many other things, too.
Actor, graphic artist, teacher, copywriter, soldier, storeman, drummer, guitarist, banjo player – it’s an extensive list and this one isn’t even exhaustive. Smith will happily turn his hand to whatever’s on hand.
But when it’s not working, he’s out, and sometimes for reasons not everyone might fathom.
“For a brief spell I was working in advertising, earning lots of money,” he told the Independent.
“I found myself coveting this car, a Porsche. Jesus, it was a great looking car but after a while I thought, ‘Hold on, I’m not car guy, I’m coveting things I don’t want’.
“People get caught up in that, I didn’t – I threw in the job.”
Music had been eminently more rewarding, Smith said.
“I’ve had a lot of doctors and lawyers who say they wished they played music. I think that’s because they’re confined to rooms and it drives them nuts.
“Years ago, when I was in ads, I had a big government department CEO almost got teary on phone telling how he went to uni, had all this stuff going on around him, but then found himself stuck working in a building looking at a grey wall out his window.
“I ended up counselling the bloke.”
Smith is lined up to play at Geelong’s upcoming Motor City Music Festival. He’ll have on board with him keyboard guru and humourist Richard Tankard and gun guitarist Shannon Bourne, who seems set to be sharing festival stages with another blues legend in Chris Wilson.
It will be rare opportunity for 66-year-old Smith, who doesn’t play as often as in the past.
He’s lived at Castlemaine for 20 years and enjoys a quieter pace of life; writing, getting out to the occasional festival , gigging with the remarkable Backsliders, the odd bit of art work and acting and the prison work.
When he’s not playing, Smith helps people deal with life inside four even more restrictive walls than office buildings – working at Dhurringile and Loddon prisons.
“Basically, I facilitate more than anything.
“They don’t want to be studious, they just want to bash things, play some rock.
“The Islanders will rap, it’s interesting. I try to nurture them into writing songs.
“They’ve got all the gear, not top-line stuff but it works, and they’re allowed acoustic guitars in their cells but not with steel strings.
“We’ve become quite friendly. I never ask what they’re in for, it’s not my business.
“Besides, they’re doing time for it already. I try to give something they can do in their cells, noodling around on guitar is kind of like meditating.
“It’s very good for them because what they’re trying to is beat the clock, they want it to go faster.”
