Biography

Have you ever read a biography on an album cover or website and thought “Wow, is this all too good to be true?... Is this artist really that wonderful ? …I’ll have to buy what they’re selling !!”

Well, this is one of those biographies and, yes, we’ll say anything necessary to sell you product. This doesn’t alter the possibility that Bob Beresford is a genuinely wonderful human being, who should probably be nominated for the Nobel Peace prize. He should also be appointed poet laureate of Australasia….or New Zealand……… or at least Christchurch, where he lives. That’s a personal opinion, but one that more people should share.

There are other great things that could be said about Bob, and as soon as we realise what they are we’ll publish them here.

In fact, this page will be updated on a regular basis in order to best convince you to buy what we are selling, thereby reducing the huge current deficit and moving Blanc Productions into a state of joyful remuneration, or even world conquest.

At this moment there is a small problem – we don’t have any product to sell. But you have to think ahead and a CD-release is planned soon. We want to be ready for that, and, above all, we want you to be ready for that so you will rush out to your favourite record store – or even one that you don’t like at all – and buy Bob’s CD for far more money than its worth.

We don’t know exactly what you’re looking for in a recording artiste (note the French variation with the 'e' on the end), and you might not really know either, but don’t worry – Bob is the answer! Why waste money on other alternatives just because they are better looking and can dance really well? The music happens through your ears!

Your opinion is important to us. So is your money. The advantage with the money, though, is that while your opinion might change, after you buy a CD it’s all too late. A surprisingly small amount of the high price you paid will eventually come back to us by a mysterious process understood only by most record company executives, many accountants and some lawyers.

To be continued soon with more biography, believable or not.

BOB’S BIOGRAPHY
( continued )

Well, here we go. First a look at the musical stereotypes that sell records to see what chance there is of Bob cashing in on the image.

Rap music!? What’s with this stuff – why is it huge business? Okay, so some underprivileged guy with no musical talent, who can’t sing, grew up in a housing project listening to traffic noise. I can sympathise, but why do I have to buy his records – which also sound like traffic noise ? Then, there have been a few clever and interesting rap acts. But most successful ones look like they got rich via pimping or running crack cocaine and then bought their own record label. Why do pimps need so many chains hanging round their necks anyway?

Rap – now a style with no musical ideas - just sample everyone else’s. Sinnging voice irrelevant, but you need an impressive body and ability to dance. Its ‘street cred’ gone crazy. Just cause a guy can sell you drugs, sex, or beat you up in ten seconds you’re supposed to buy his record ?!?

So that all rules Bob out, anyway.

But a big new genre - which now seems to be rivalling Rap as a money spinner is ‘classical crossover’ or ‘popera’. Hard to know how to take it…. very pretentious but at least in the end you get some good enough singers and instrumentalists doing some reasonable music – which is more than can be said for rap.

The formula now is to take a marketable singer/musician who isn’t good enough to get far in the demanding classical world and market them based on looks/image and a mushy repertoire of overproduced ‘standards’ and new pseudo-classical pieces. It’s a marketing exercise - but it really makes bucks - and just goes to show that most people either don’t know or don’t care what a good classical singer actually sounds like. And the loophole with this ‘crossover’ music is that you only need a minority of actual ‘classical’ numbers on the album to claim success on the ‘classical’ charts!

So all this is sounding like a good starting point for Bob’s biography, which will still take in as many musical markets as possible before it’s finished – noting that it may never actually finish while there is still the chance to alter it in order to milk more sales.

So here we go, again………….

Bob Beresford was born in the usual way, but unlike so many of today’s classical superstars he didn’t start playing the piano immediately upon delivery. In fact, he didn’t even make music his early career at all! It was his early passion and precocity for sports that ruled his young life – progressing from ludo and chess at the age of ten months to mastering all kinds of activities in his first year as he tore around the back yard. Whether it was mastering soccer, badminton, hockey, cricket, synchronised swimming ( with other tots ) or just doing advanced gymnastic manouevers on the climbing bars – somersaults, or swinging in circles with one hand - there was no stopping young Beresford.

Adventure sports were to follow – kayaking, ballooning, ski mountaineering, but it was a parachuting trip, at age 2½, that really changed his young life.

Beresford had enjoyed many jumps already in the company of old professor Stan McKenzie who taught at the NSW conservatorium of music. He and Stan would talk philosophy, before, during and after the jumps, but on this occasion – a flight over scenic Dubbo – something went wrong. As they floated earthwards, admiring the view and discussing the impact of Nietsche on the rise of Nazism in Germany, old Stan got some chords tangled and lost some control - as his speed increased. He ended up landing violently on a barbed electric fence. Beresford landed safely nearby and then watched in horror as his mentor – wrapped around a fencepost and hopelessly tangled in the wires, convulsed to the unnecessarily powerful electric current, so typical in the Dubbo area. They must be trying really hard to punish their livestock.

It was a slow and painful death and a heart-rending experience as old Stan asked the young Bob – with his dying words - to carry on his musical work and legacy. As the Professor convulsed for the last time, Beresford vowed he would give up parachuting ( obviously too dangerous ) and become an outstanding classical musician – a pupil that old Stan would be proud of!

Returning to Sydney, Beresford plunged headlong into violin and piano studies at the Conservatory. By age five he had achieved honours in violin with a repertoire of 25 sonatas and was becoming a pianist to reckon with. From dextrous renditions of Chopin, to passionate interpretations of Rachmaninov, to the harmonic, melodic and rhythmic complexities of Scriabin, Beresford was shining through it all.

Finally, by age 5½ he was ready for a career as a soloist and he was soon performing piano in the world’s famous concert venues, armed with his special piano stool and leg extensions that enabled him to reach the pedals. These were difficult to walk on, so he usually came on stage using crutches. Audiences took a while to adjust to a six year old on crutches – at every performance – but at least the music was good.

By this stage, Beresford was focusing on Liszt and was renowned for his ability to play the 12 transcendental preludes with one hand (which ever one he felt like on the night). Dazzling hand speed was eventually matched by touch sensitivity and an image improvement when at age seven, with longer legs, he was finally able to reach the peddles, abandon the leg extensions and appear on stage without crutches. A new image, perhaps, but it was also a new beginning as an artiste as he confidently strode onto the stage in his mini tuxedo and took bows and encores ……without falling over, as had usually happened before. That had usually been head first into the bunch of flowers they’d just given him.

But his new found style and success was soon fading by comparison as a new wave of child prodigies – mainly overworked Chinese performers willing to do it for less – swept the world’s concert halls and Beresford found his popularity waning and his performance fee often too high. As the performance dates dried up, Beresford had to make career choices. It was too early to start teaching – at age 7½ he just didn’t have the patience – but a new career was possible if he teamed up with other young prodigies as a light classical ensemble. Thus was born the seven piece child ensemble “Starlets on High” a multi racial group of six to ten year olds with a combined cuteness factor somewhere off the scale. They could play the smaller venues, too, so it prolonged Beresford’s ‘child’ career for a few more years – till the age of ten – when internal politics, power struggles and tantrums on stage finally broke the young group up.

Tired of working with other kids who were as ruthlessly ambitious as himself, and with a fading ‘classical’ future, Beresford did the next logical thing – pop music. After all he was bright and smiling, had really good teeth, could sing well enough for pop purposes and could play keyboards better than most ten year olds.

His record company saw the chance and spent a fortune promoting him as ‘Bobby Juniour’ with his photogenic teeth and such hits as “Can I Hold Your Hand ?”, “You Make Me Want To Smile”, “You Can Mother Me”, “I’m Too Young For That”, “I’m Too Cute For That” and the chart topping “You’ll Miss Me When I Grow Up”.

After milking the pop market in a syrupy way and doing commercials for chewing gum and toothpaste, young Beresford’s hyped pop career eventually ran its course and he was replaced by other marketing exercises, some of whom had even better teeth.

So at the age of 13, with mounting self doubt, but a large personal fortune, despite what various managers had cheated him of, young Beresford started playing and even writing more personal songs while filling in on keys in Reggae and Rock bands. Who can forget the reggae classic “Getting Lively Up My Trousers” done by Rufus and the Brothers, with Beresford’s distinctive keyboard line? Or the follow up hit “You’s A Woman And I Can Prove It”.

But Beresford wasn’t just at home with the bump and grind of reggae. He was soon gyrating and posing with rock bands such as Spotted Panther (some kind of social disease was implied) with their hit songs “Slide Onto Me” and “Are You Ready For This?”

But Beresford was too young for the groupies, or much else, so he quit the glam world to launch his own teenage straight rock band “The Monotones” which explored teenage themes of isolation, rebellion, injustice and - after a couple of years - sex.

Notable for being young and musically competent they had stand out songs like “I’m Miserable”, You Just Don’t Understand”, “You Just Don’t Care”, “I Don’t Care Either”, “I’m Confused” or the epic 13 minute track “Why Are We Here?” And they eventually attracted some groupies ……. depressed ones. This repertoire sold pretty well, though Beresford became increasingly alienated from his parents.

But then the young Beresford was saved from selling out ( again ) – or becoming terminally neurotic – when he discovered Progressive Rock . It was also called Prog Rock or ‘Techno Rock’ – because of the grand scale of it and the dazzling technical ability of the musicians. It was also a genre in which most people really believed in what they were doing.

The mind expanding instrumental solos and lyrics were a revelation to him as he joined Techno rockers “Maybe” for their successful album “Breakable”. All the band did long solos (yes, that included the drummer ) - stoned or otherwise – but somehow they tightened the music into three long but powerful and rather cosmic tracks to make their landmark album “Close to the Brink” - originally titled “On the Edge”. This earned them many devoted fans since this music could completely blow your mind without taking anything stimulating, legal or otherwise.

Their concerts were packed with peaceful, cosmic minded vegetarians who didn’t bother with alcohol – or even with most other drugs. That was an achievement, considering that most rock music has usually been fuelled by alcohol – or often dope, speed or even acid. Other technorockers were succeeding too - the English band H.E.L.P. , Dutch band ‘Out of Focus’, PFM from Italy and Sticks from USA.

It was expansive, expensive and technically impressive. But eventually the bubble burst as the Punk/New wave movement started and the big record companies backed that instead, as the fashionable new money spinner. Once again, despite appearances, music was being dictated by current and profitable fashions and record company policy and profits.

So, the imaginative high point of Rock Music ended, because the techno-rockers needed to tour stadiums, with large audiences. Since Maybe couldn’t justify another tour, they famously broke up, leading to the headline “Maybe aren’t sure”.

For the still young Beresford it was a time to rethink …... or just stop thinking altogether. He chose the latter and took up punk rock. It was crude and ignorant. But at least it was different.

Soon, though, the punk image of rebellion and non-conformity, heavily backed by the music industry, was the new conformity. And big business. Not so ‘different’ anymore.

Beresford, in fact, really felt like ‘dropping out’, at age 17½. He started a punk rock band - “Rex Wrecked and the Hopeless”. Rex was the guitarist – real name Sebastian – while Beresford, with stage name ‘Dennis’ wrote most of the songs. They had fair success – dying their hair purple, wearing safety pins all over and throwing themselves into audiences – who usually couldn’t tell that the sweaty punk they were now handling had stopped playing his instrument. In fact, it was unusual for more than half the band to be playing at any one time, but it was all energetic stuff. Just like the neurotic sex they’d have with the punk girls who’d hang out at the concerts. And they had their anthems like “I Want Out”, “Everything Stinks” or their even more profound anthem “Everything Sucks”. A return to teenage depression, really. All been done before.

Things were going well for them – riding the ‘new wave’ and they were even selling records.

But just when “The Hopeless” were enjoying success and acceptance by neurotic young people everywhere the bubble was cruelly burst by astute muck-raking journalist Sophie Slant who had noticed that ‘Rex’ and ‘Dennis’ were far too musically competent to be real punk rockers. She soon uncovered the facts underneath the purple mohawk and orange wigs. Rex was really Sebastian – who had studied classical singing (done musicals and light opera) and guitar, and ‘Denis’ was the notorious Bob Beresford who was still very wealthy from his child classical and pop career, and toothpaste commercials.

When that hit the papers ‘The Hopeless’ became ‘The Damned’ – their credibility completely blown – and they disbanded mid-tour in Germany, creating legal and financial problems. Sebastian eventually became a classical voice teacher while Beresford took time out and finally concluded that he couldn’t escape his past …… and the numerous critical newspaper articles. His integrity would always be in question, so why not try for blatantly commercial success some other way?

He had always quite liked disco, so with the help of a great hair stylist he soon had an impressive afro hairdo and he launched his generic disco’ record ‘Friday Nights On High Heels’. This featured tracks such as ‘You Move Like A Woman’, ‘Feel That Beat’, ‘Love To Love Me’, ‘Night Fever Every Day’, and the epic dance number ‘Staying Alive And Credible’.

The record was a complete flop but, crucially, the company’s marketing department saw potential in the hairdo and took a gamble that, matched to the right musical format, they could recoup recent losses and get some good sales from their long time protégé.

That led to the launch of Beresford, at age 23, as a sentimental crooner for bored middle aged women. The album ‘Music For Housewives’ was designed to be played early afternoons while relaxing after a TV soap opera. It featured a now chubby Beresford with his new impressive afro and still attractive teeth. His stage name was now ‘Bobby Blank And His Unlimited Strings’. And the music hit the target.

With tracks like ‘You’re My Everything’, ‘I’m Your Everything Too’, ‘There’s So Much Of Me To Give’, ‘Can’t Stop Giving You Everything Baby’, ‘You Want All Of Me’, ‘Oh Baby, Ooh Baby, Uumph, Aah – Oh Yes Darlin’’, ‘Can You Feel My Love Baby’, ‘Just Do It Again For Me Honey’, ‘Love The Way You Do That Darlin… Oh Yeah, Ooh’ and ‘Don’t Stop Doing That’ all set to plush but boring and repetitive string arrangements, with no discernible melody, the critics really gave it a hard time.

“Music for slow, boring, imaginary sex” was the leader on one article, while others pointed out that he was ripping off the hugely overweight and highly successful American crooner Barry White, with his Love Unlimited Orchestra.

While Beresford could at least sing better than Mr White (who couldn’t ? ) it was clearly a shameless attempt to cut into a niche market that everyone had thought Barry White owned.

But the album sold well in Australia and England – suggesting there were a lot of bored housewives who couldn’t stomach Barry White and would settle for another alternative with the right kind of teeth.

But the follow up record did poorly and Beresford was soon back ‘on the scrapheap’ wondering just what he could do next. His basic credibility had been blown after so many blatantly commercial ventures and the press were always finding ways to make fun of him and sell copy.

This started to get to him quite badly and he became reclusive and alcoholic.. It was stifling and depressing – hard to change, in a society that knew so much about him - and it eventually lead to an alcohol assisted nervous breakdown. Which of course hit the papers.

Therapy and rehab brought him back up to ‘normal’, almost, but he was now rather disoriented and had apparently lost most of his musical ability (and some of his memory)……. which conveniently explains his current condition – musical and otherwise.

After much vegetating and wondering about his future he suddenly discovered – and loved – country ‘n western music. It was usually very simple ( like himself ) with nice heartfelt tunes and simple chords ….. usually the same ones every time. This inspired Beresford to rediscover himself emotionally and musically and buy a guitar so he could play along.

In the fashion typical of country singer/guitarists he learnt a new chord every six months and then, to really experience the music properly, he took up truck driving! Soon, motorists from Queensland through to Victoria were being blasted by country classics from Beresford’s comprehensive ‘inside and out’ speaker system as he overtook them in his big Kenworth rig. Or if stuck behind him it was much the same – a generous earful of Jimmy Rodgers, Merle Hagard. Or even country rock, like the Flying Burrito Brothers.

Unfortunately for Beresford it was music that brought him unstuck. Whilst enthusiastically hammering away on his steering wheel to a country classic, on a tight corner near Coonabarabran he lost control and jack knifed his rig – both trailers – and rolled into a field. This crushed a fence, releasing a herd of dairy cows to happily wander onto the road, crapping everywhere and causing further accidents.

It was an insurance nightmare and while Beresford escaped only bruised and shaken it was the end of his truck driving career. No one would hire him. But it left him to ponder and practice the country music he now loved so much and he soon realised that all the interstate driving had given him the feel and understanding of the music to become a country music performer himself. So he started writing songs based on his experiences.

Some unforgettable songs emerged – ‘Come Sunup I’ll Be Gone’, ‘The Highway’s My Friend’, ‘You Only Loved Me Because Of My Rig’, ‘Get Out Of My Slipstream!’, ‘I Can’t Reverse For No One, Babe’, and the classic ‘The Sheriff’s After Me ‘Cause I Double-Parked In Mudgee’.

Confident about his music and fortunate that the country music fraternity was insular and didn’t know or care about his previous career, Beresford turned up at the Tamworth Country Music festival and the Gore festival in New Zealand. He was well received both places leading to the release of his album “Dust On The Trail, In My Hair And All Through My Cabin”. The album struck a chord with truck drivers everywhere and it sold quite well in New Zealand and Australia – where he toured on it……. in a big rig.

Unfortunately, though, the Australian press soon caught up with him, joking about his transition from commercial sell out to ‘grass roots’ country singer. The Sydney Morning Herald article “What’s that in my rear view mirror” was particularly sarcastic, talking about whether the reader was about to be overtaken by a truck drivin’ country singer, a pianist, a failed disco singer or a toothpaste commercial. It certainly flattened Beresford’s career in Australia and was all too much for him – leading to depression and a withdrawal from public performance, again.

Beresford then decided to resettle in New Zealand, to relative anonymity and enjoy the spectacular scenery and the fishing and other outdoor activities. The wildlife was a pleasant change too. Quite different from Australia…..in fact most of it was unlikely to kill you. The general absence of flies and mosquitoes was also a plus, though the sand flies could be even more vicious – in areas like the wild West Coast. It was great scenery to photograph and a relaxed lifestyle and Beresford learned to appreciate National TV sports like rugby – though not Lotto, since he was still a non gambler.

Beresford’s musical ability deteriorated even further – maybe it was because he’d stopped thinking , maybe the fact that he never practiced………. perhaps both. But despite being out of touch with musicians and his musical past, he still became convinced that it was his destiny to make a comeback as a great performer. So he left his rural holiday home in the South Island to try his luck with auditions in Europe.

A breakthrough finally came when the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra agreed to hire him part time as their lead triangle player. Once again, Beresford was back performing with an orchestra, but this time he was really blowing it. He’d frequently miss cues by as much as 17 bars – either way – which really stretched the tolerance of everyone around him. But the powerful musicians union argued on his behalf. They said that the condition of his brain and the limited attention span wasn’t really his fault, and everyone deserved equal opportunity.

It was a victory for Political Correctness and impending legal and/or strike action……all in the face of plain common sense, and the orchestra had to retain him. Until one fateful performance. After falling asleep and missing his cue he finally fell off his stool and onto the tympani….. via the tubular bells.

Some critics wondered if this was a new and novel interpretation of the slow movement of Dvorak’s New World Symphony. Perhaps it was bringing Dvorak into line with modern composition, with it’s far-too-clever themes of randomness, atonality and pseudo intellectualism and absence of the dated elements……. such as melody? Others saw it as an incompetent idiot ruining an otherwise excellent performance. Crucially, the conductor and management thought so too and Beresford was immediately sacked.

But he still longed for the stage and he managed to land significant parts – such as the rear half of a pantomime pony. Or a mobile magic mushroom in a new version of Midsummer Night’s Dream. There, he had to be replaced after repeatedly tripping over the trees…… who were also wandering around the stage. They then tried him as a grassy hummock – but he kept moving when sat on. A walk on part as a drunken tramp in an amateur play followed, but he kept forgetting his line.

It seemed like theatre wasn’t working for Beresford, or visa versa, but after a few months out he suddenly appeared in a role he’d always wanted – conducting a symphony orchestra. And it was the Berlin Philharmonic, no less!

The unscheduled ‘surprise’ piece – ‘Rhapsody on a Score of Mahler’s Ninth’ certainly stretched the imagination of the German audience, as Beresford directed the huge orchestra and choir into musical phrases previously unimagined or heard of. The juxtaposition of the double basses with the percussion, woodwinds and upper registers of the choir was unusual, as were the timing and rhythmic elements as Beresford enthusiastically flailed his arms, overcome by inspiration.

At one point everyone stopped (except Beresford) only to start again in a disjointed manner, looking bewildered. Whole existing sections of the score - and apparently new ones - started to overlap as Beresford exhorted the orchestra to rise to greater heights, finishing in a crescendo that happened at five different times and in various sections of the orchestra and choir.

After that, musicians started walking out. It was a very unusual and thought provoking performance. The audience was silenced and later some critics talked about new interpretations of Mahler’s relatively conservative music. “Is this where modern music is taking us” was one leader (in German). The critic from Die Welte was relatively blunt “….. Scheiss! .… ….

…..und mehr scheiss…”.

But others were more critical……. while some were just dumbstruck. Certainly, resident conductor Herbert von Karajan, later found bound and gagged in his dressing room, was speechless at the power of the performance.

After the initial bewilderment there was a certain ‘anti-reaction’ to the performance. Beresford missed it because he left Germany overnight to keep a psychiatric appointment in Antwerp, Belgium, the next day. It didn’t do any good. That shouldn’t be surprising from a semi – competent profession which is legally able to define ‘sanity’ and routinely and rapidly hands out heavy chemical sedation and electric shock therapy to ‘treat’ many so-called ‘abnormal’ personality states. Though the near total failure of this expensive profession hasn’t stopped Americans from spending a fortune on it.

Later, Beresford discovered there was an arrest warrant out for him in Germany and soon found many people worldwide had classified him as a “musical terrorist”. Most of them were German. But, undaunted, he still sought musical experiences on the grand scale, leading to his famous performance on the pipe organ at Westminster Abbey. The performance was only short, but was distinct and quite unforgettable.

Apparently Beresford had turned up at the doors claiming to be an Anglican monk on a pilgrimage to the Holy City of London, and so the cleaning staff had let him into the inner part of the Cathedral. Then, after leaving him kneeled in prayer at the altar, they were surprised, 5 minutes later, to hear the organ booming through the cathedral . It was dischord at full volume and returning, they found Beresford frantically playing a solo on the pedals. It sounded a bit like ‘Chopsticks’.

Some unorthodox keyboard work followed during the long struggle to remove him from the huge instrument, but eventually he was dragged to the door and locked out. He did write a letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury apologising and explaining his musical aspirations. But the response he got only banned him from all Anglican churches worldwide. At any time of day. Even getting back into England, later, proved difficult.

…..to be continued……..

Well, what about that for a biography ?! And it could get even bigger and better.