The House That Russ Built

March 31st, 2009

Strange us not all being together for a couple of days. I didn’t see it coming, but quickly felt exposed without family Brand, like I’d woken up in one of those ‘naked from the waist down dreams’ in the middle of Sydney airport. Sorry Russ, I’ve just realised that might be a slightly insensitive analogy considering recent events.

As you know we’ve all split for a few days holiday having finished in Oz with some scintillating gigs. In fact, I’d say the first night in Melbourne was one of his best ever…..adlibs and vocabulary pouring from him like a burst dam. Very proud we were.

Obviously with the schedule we’ve been keeping everyone, particularly Russ was due a bit of time off. However, the group goodbye on Sunday seemed laden with a surprising poignancy, like the end of summer camp. Don’t worry it was still littered with typical innuendo and fart jokes, but if I’m not mistaken even ol’Russ had a slight glaze in his eye. I know we all did.

It must be the intensity of the experience and the lack of hiding places that’s galvanised everyone. Each person diligently managing their aspect of the operation with a respect and understanding for the others – all pulling in the same direction. Inspiring.

See, despite the prolific speed at which he’s been rising, Russell’s success is built on solid foundations. A set of foundations he has built himself. For a man who confesses to using his “mental illness for a job” he is a cunning judge of character and a very motivational leader. “Hello, ‘Cult Awareness’ how can I help you?” “Yeah it’s about my boss…”

Nah, what I’m saying is that the people he surrounds himself with are testament to him. Because now I’m home alone in a foreign city I’ve realise the stability the network around you provides. It’s tricky now, because while on tour certain elements of your regular life are taken care of so that the show can be the main focus. When I was this week confronted by the simple task of collecting baggage and finding a taxi my bottom lip dropped and I cried for my mummy.

I guess the danger if you’re not careful could be a weird detachment. Something that must be avoided at all costs. I recently heard that Bono’s wife makes him stay in a hotel for an extra 2 weeks before he’s allowed home from touring so he can readjust to family life. I guess this came about after he phoned his 5 year old daughter for room service and then offered his teenage son the pick of the groupies. Naughty Bono.

I’d laugh if when Russell arrives home there is a note on his front door signed off with a paw print stating: “Until you realise that cats can’t make double expresso you are booked into the Dorchester. Kind Regards Morrissey.’

Perhaps it’s best we’ll all just live together from now on.

by Producer Jack