The Out-of-towners: Kevin Mitchell and Adalita on festival antics, beach breaks and the dream of the 90s

Kevin Mitchell and Adalita Srsen came at Sydney from different angles when they first visited back in the 90s. That's meant both geographically – Mitchell from Perth, Srsen from Geelong – and mentally. For the longtime Jebediah frontman, it was a proving ground for his fledgling band from the other side of the country. Already signed to Murmur by the time they first arrived Over East, they were often subject to the dreaded label showcase events. 

“It was really intimidating,” says Mitchell of his early Sydney experiences. “We were outsiders, and we were very young. We didn't really know anybody, either. Oftentimes, there were more guests from the record company than paying punters.” Srsen, on the other hand, blazed through the city with early iterations of Magic Dirt with little more than insatiable hunger to plug in and play. She was, to borrow a phrase from a later album, young and full of the devil. “We were ready to go anywhere,” she says.

“We just loved being on the road and tearing through those long drives. I romanticise Sydney a lot nowadays, but back then? Roll up. Rock out. Next town.” She laughs, before turning to Mitchell and adding: “I suppose, being from WA, it would have been a much bigger deal for you guys? We were always east coast, so it was just what you had to do as a band.” Mitchell agrees: “I can remember being starstruck by the venues alone,” he replies. “Like, the Annandale Hotel and the Metro were venues we'd only heard of because of triple j and because of Live At The Wireless. I can remember Tim Rogers being at the back of the Annandale the first time we played there – we're mates now, but at the time I couldn't believe he would be at our show!”

Srsen's earliest memory of a Sydney gig is playing at the long-gone Max's in Petersham circa 1993. There, Magic Dirt supported an upstart indie band from the US by the name of Pavement on their first Australian tour. “We were freshly cracked out of the egg,” she recalls. “We'd just gotten a new name, which was Magic Dirt, and I was still rocking spectacles and skivvies on-stage.” Mitchell is tickled by this vision, who has only ever seen Srsen in full flight with cut-off sleeves and 20/20 vision. “Is there evidence of this look anywhere?” he asks. “Yes, there's a full video on YouTube!” Srsen replies. Sure enough, there is.

Mitchell, meanwhile, recalls the Unipalooza tour – a six-week run of, wouldn't you know it, university gigs with Murmur labelmates Something For Kate circa 1996. Though Mitchell can't recall if it was at Hermann's Bar at the University of Sydney, or the Underground at UTS, he recalls seeing and meeting Sydney indie stalwarts Bluebottle Kiss for the first time – a friendship that has lasted through to this very day. “We were the opening band, and nobody knew who we were,” he recalls. “It took us a while to figure out where we fit in, but thanks to bands like Bluebottle it was the first city outside of Perth where we sort of found a community around our music. Every time we came back after that was more exciting – it made us feel like we were part of something big.”

1996 is also a crucial intersection for both “the Jebs and the Dirt,” as Srsen so cheerfully refers to them. Both bands ended up playing at the first iteration of Homebake in Sydney – not yet in the Domain, but on the grounds of the University of Sydney. Both remember the elements of twentysomething debauchery to the festival more than the performances themselves – which feels fitting, given the context. 

“We were early on, maybe 1 in the afternoon,” says Mitchell.“That suited us just fine, because it meant we could spend the rest of the day drinking and hanging out with the other bands. There were so many that played at Homebake that we'd only heard on the radio, and there they all were in front of us. It was a real coming-of-age moment for us as a band.” 

Srsen, meanwhile, specifically recalls some justifiable rule-breaking for the greater good. “There were these girls on the other side of the mesh gate backstage, and they called me over,” she says. “They were desperate to get in! Normally I didn't do stuff like that, as a rule, but they were just dying to see the show – and I was that young girl once, too, so I sneakily let them in.”

Ultimately, Mitchell credits Sydney with making him feel as though Jebediah were no longer just a Perth band – they were an Australian band, of national significance. “It was this moment around ‘98 or ‘99, going across the Harbour Bridge in peak-hour traffic on our way to the Metro,” Mitchell recalls. “I think it was our first time headlining – it was definitely the first time we'd sold it out. I just had this realisation in the van, then and there. It's Saturday night, we're in Sydney, and over a thousand people have chosen to spend their Saturday night seeing us play. It was almost like an out-of-body thing for me – you don't often stop and reflect when you're in the whirlwind of it all, but in this case I'm glad I did. It was incredibly gratifying.”

Over half an hour of non-stop conversation, there's reverential talk of the (old) Annandale, which both attribute to being the home of some of their best ever shows. They tip their hats to The Vanguard, which hosted both when they forayed into performing solo and gave them new rooms to discover well over a decade into their careers. There's also enthusiastic talk of Crowbar, which both bands played last year. “It's got a real Annandale feeling to it, which is nice,” says Srsen. “You can tell a lot of love goes into that venue – it generates a lot of goodwill from both the bands and the punters.”

And when you're a rock band on a budget in the pre-Airbnb era, finding a spot to spend the night after a gig could lead you to some particularly interesting places. “Did you ever stay at the Hotel New Hampshire in Kings Cross?” Mitchell asks Srsen. “Yeah!” she replies. “They had all the photos of the bands that would stay there on the wall behind the reception desk.” Mitchell laughs: “We always wondered when the Jebs were going to get their photo on the wall! We wanted to be up there between Frente! and Hunters & Collectors.”

“Remember staying upstairs at the Lansdowne?” Srsen’s talking about the pre-revamp, $5 steak era, and Mitchell absolutely does. “God, the cockroaches in the mattresses!” Srsen exclaims. “It was pretty grungy,” Mitchell says, wincing at the memory. “We've done our time, as you can tell.”

The trip down Memory Lane concludes with scenic beachfront views, as both Srsen and Mitchell recall rocking out seaside in different parts of Sydney's seaside. For Magic Dirt, the band headed to Cronulla in 1995 to live out a cinematic fantasy: “We were obsessed with the movie Puberty Blues,” explains Srsen, “and that all took place on Wanda Beach. I don't know how we managed to pull it off, but we managed to book a gig at the Wanda Beach Surf Lifesavers Club.

“It was one of the best gigs we've ever played, but also one of the most dangerous. There was no security, so there were kids climbing through windows to get in. One kid was crowdsurfing and got caught in the ceiling fan! Thankfully no-one was hurt, and the kids all looked after one another. It's gone down as a pretty legendary show – there's actually a Facebook group of people who were there that night!”

Mitchell, inspired by this anecdote, recalls the Jebs playing at the Bondi Pavilion. “We were on tour with Something For Kate and a band called Fur; it must have been 1997,” he says. “We had this all-ages show booked at the Pavilion, but the night before the show Kim [Myers] from Fur had gotten into an accident and ended up with her arm in a cast. She rocks up to the gig, still in her hospital gown with the tag on her arm! They still played the gig, too – Kim sang while Paul Dempsey played guitar. Note-perfect too, I might add. It was very rock'n'roll.”

Jebediah and Magic Dirt play LABEL. in Brookvale tomorrow night and the Manning Bar in Camperdown on Friday night, with Merpire opening both shows. Tickets for Brookvale can be bought here, while tickets for the Manning Bar can be bought here.

Oiks is out now via Cooking Vinyl Australia. It can be streamed, downloaded and purchased here.