The Adelaide Show

Joe Evans was last on the show in 2018, picking grapes and talking about his craft. A lot has changed at Ballycroft Vineyard & Cellars since then. Joe has turned a $6,000-a-year electricity bill into a source of profit, using 33 kilowatts of solar, a bidirectional V2G converter, and two Nissan Leafs to run his house, his winery, and his cellar door without drawing from the grid. He believes Ballycroft is the world’s first winery to make and mature wine entirely on solar and car battery power. Photos of Joe for the show notes and the podcast player, were taken by Thomas Wielecki.

There is no SA Drink of the Week this episode, though Joe does give a tantalising description of his 100% Mataro and a very limited release Small Berry Shiraz Pressings 2022 that had already sold half its 400-bottle run within a month of release.

For the Musical Pilgrimage, Steve shares an original composition recorded with his virtual session band, The Virtuosos. Another Bloody Year was written just a fortnight before recording, prompted by rising fuel costs, global instability and a CS Lewis speech from 1939 that turns out to be as timely as ever.

You can navigate episodes using chapter markers in your podcast app. Not a fan of one segment? You can click next to jump to the next chapter in the show. We’re here to serve!

The Adelaide Show Podcast: Awarded Silver for Best Interview Podcast in Australia at the 2021 Australian Podcast Awards and named as Finalist for Best News and Current Affairs Podcast in the 2018 Australian Podcast Awards.

And please consider becoming part of our podcast by joining our Inner Circle. It’s an email list. Join it and you might get an email on a Sunday or Monday seeking question ideas, guest ideas and requests for other bits of feedback about YOUR podcast, The Adelaide Show. Email us directly and we’ll add you to the list: [email protected]

If you enjoy the show, please leave us a 5-star review in iTunes or other podcast sites, or buy some great merch from our Red Bubble store – The Adelaide Show Shop. We’d greatly appreciate it.

And please talk about us and share our episodes on social media, it really helps build our community. Oh, and here’s our index of all episode in one concise
page.

Running Sheet: Small Winemaker, Big Wines, Zero Power Bills

00:00:00 Intro

Introduction

00:00:00 SA Drink Of The Week

There is no SA Drink Of The Week this week, but we encourage you to browse the Ballycroft Vineyard & Cellar online store.

00:04:19 Joe Evans, Ballycroft Vineyard & Cellars

If you have ever stared at a power bill and felt a quiet fury, Joe Evans is the person you need to hear. Back in the late 2010s, South Australian electricity was already the most expensive in the country at around 28 cents per kilowatt hour. It is now around 58 cents, which Joe says makes South Australia second most expensive in the Western world. His response was not to complain but to act.

The journey started in 2019 when Joe purchased a 40-kilowatt Nissan Leaf from a rural dealership, becoming what he believes was the first person in Australia to buy an EV from such a dealer. The car he specifically chose because it had bidirectional capability: charge it during the day, discharge it at night to power the house and winery. The catch was that the V2G converter needed to make that work took three and a half years to get Australian standards approval. Joe was the first residential and small business owner in the country to install one.

Walk through a 24-hour cycle at Ballycroft Vineyard & Cellars and you begin to see how elegantly the system operates. From around 6am, the car battery powers the morning rush: kettles, hair dryers, the household waking up. Once the sun rises and the 33-kilowatt solar array kicks in, the car recharges within an hour or two while simultaneously running the house and winery. During vintage, when the fermentation chillers are working hard around the clock, Joe uses one car’s full 60-kilowatt battery per night. His figure from last year: 42 kilowatts used across 42 days of fermentation. That is one kilowatt a day, or about 58 cents. Without the system, it would have been closer to $30 a day.

He is now running two Nissan Leafs, a “his and hers” arrangement after his wife fell in love with the original car. The second, a secondhand 2021 60-kilowatt model purchased for $36,000, he describes as a generator on wheels. He bought it primarily for the battery. A 50% government rebate later led him to add a home battery as well, though the cars still do the heavy lifting.

For listeners weighing up an EV, Joe offers practical advice grounded in four years of real-world use: keep the battery between 20% and 80%, never leave it at 100%, and prioritise V2G capability when choosing a car. He notes that Tesla has explicitly ruled out V2G to protect its wall battery sales, while many newer European and Chinese models are building it in. A new Wallbox Quasar 2 with CCS2 compatibility is expected to arrive at around $5,000, down from the $10,000 Joe paid.

The conversation also covers range anxiety (real but shrinking as infrastructure grows), tyre and brake wear (largely a non-issue in his experience), battery degradation (his six-year-old car has less degradation than comparable models that only drove, because running the house draws power far more gently than driving does), and what to do when the power goes out. Joe’s answer to that last one: nothing, because the system keeps running regardless.

“Have control of your own energy. It’s a good feeling.” – Joe Evans

00:59:58 Musical Pilgrimage

In the Musical Pilgrimage, we feature Steve Davis & The Virtualosos’ new song, Another Bloody Year.

Steve frames this segment with a reference to John Schumann being told to stay in his lane after posting about Australian involvement in potential conflict, and responds with CS Lewis’s 1939 speech to Oxford students on the eve of the Second World War: “Life has never been normal.”

Against that backdrop, Steve shares an original song written a fortnight before recording, reflecting on the cost ordinary people pay when leaders make reckless decisions. The final verse lands with quiet force, borrowing a line from Schumacher: “All of us should live more simply so that others might simply live.” If there is a singer looking for material with genuine weight, Steve has flagged this one as available.

Support the show: https://theadelaideshow.com.au/listen-or-download-the-podcast/adelaide-in-crowd/

See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In Kadina, the commercial heart of South Australia’s Yorke Peninsula, farming families have been trusting the same lawyers with their most important moments for generations. This episode brings two of those lawyers to the table: Doug Reed, who has practised in Kadina for 50 years and is preparing to retire, and Kylie Mildwaters, who grew up on a nearby farm, left for Adelaide to study law, and came back to build her own thriving practice. Between them, they offer an unusually honest portrait of what country law actually looks like: the trust earned slowly, the gossip that spreads fast, and the quiet privilege of knowing the grandchildren of your very first clients.

There is no SA Drink of the Week this episode

The Musical Pilgrimage this week is perfectly timed: Adelaide artist My Chérie releases her new single Stuck Inside My Head today, the same day she performs at WOMADelaide. It is an indie folk-rock meditation on neurodivergence and the challenge of quieting a restless mind, and it could not be a more fitting soundtrack for a week when this city is buzzing with live music and big ideas.

You can navigate episodes using chapter markers in your podcast app. Not a fan of one segment? You can click next to jump to the next chapter in the show. We’re here to serve!

The Adelaide Show Podcast: Awarded Silver for Best Interview Podcast in Australia at the 2021 Australian Podcast Awards and named as Finalist for Best News and Current Affairs Podcast in the 2018 Australian Podcast Awards.

And please consider becoming part of our podcast by joining our Inner Circle. It’s an email list. Join it and you might get an email on a Sunday or Monday seeking question ideas, guest ideas and requests for other bits of feedback about YOUR podcast, The Adelaide Show. Email us directly and we’ll add you to the list: [email protected]

If you enjoy the show, please leave us a 5-star review in iTunes or other podcast sites, or buy some great merch from our Red Bubble store – The Adelaide Show Shop. We’d greatly appreciate it.

And please talk about us and share our episodes on social media, it really helps build our community. Oh, and here’s our index of all episode in one concise
page.

Running Sheet: Kadina Lawyers And The Real World Of Rural Law

00:00:00 Intro

Introduction

00:00:00 SA Drink Of The Week

There is no SA Drink Of The Week this week.

00:03:01 Doug Reed and Kylie Mildwaters

Kadina in the 1970s, as Doug Reed (Germein Reed) remembers it, was a proper provincial town: half its current size, built around farming, animated by fierce rivalry between Kadina, Moonta, and Wallaroo, and populated on Fridays by farmers’ wives dressed to the nines for their weekly shopping. Small Woolworths. No McDonald’s. Three pubs per town, and a pub meal was a night out. The frictions, factions, and fictions of small-town life, as Steve puts it, drawing on a line from The Carpathians, were very much in evidence, including, as Doug notes with some amusement, two rival Methodist churches in Kadina alone.

Kylie Mildwaters (Mildwaters Byrth Lawyers & Conveyancers) grew up on the other side of that rivalry, as a Moonta girl who had nothing to do with Kadina. The inter-town competition, she and Doug agree, has mellowed considerably since council amalgamation, though not, they hasten to add, on the sporting field. The footy rivalry remains entirely intact.

It is when the conversation turns to trust that the episode finds its real heart. Doug is direct: you cannot advertise trust. You earn it through your work, your community involvement, and your reputation, and when you make a misstep in a town this size, it spreads like wildfire. Kylie’s version of the same lesson is more pragmatic: word of mouth on the Yorke Peninsula is the best advertising you could possibly have, which means looking after every client, every time, without exception. Her additional piece of hard-won wisdom for any country lawyer? Do your Woolworths shopping online.

Doug reflects on one of the quieter privileges of rural legal practice: the moment you realise you are sitting across the desk from the grandchild of a client you first helped decades ago. He calls it a privilege, and it is hard to disagree. That kind of continuity is particularly characteristic of rural practice. The corporate memory you carry about a family, built across generations, is something a city firm simply cannot replicate. It is also a responsibility, and one reason why Doug’s decision to transition the bulk of his client base to Kylie’s firm, Mildwaters Birth Lawyers, has clearly not been taken lightly.

The conversation takes a sharper turn when farm succession enters the picture. The number of farming families on the Yorke Peninsula, one of Australia’s premier cropping regions, is now a fraction of what it was when Doug first arrived. Farms have grown dramatically, consuming neighbouring holdings, and with that growth has come a corresponding rise in what is at stake when a family asks who gets what. Kylie, who practises in estate and family law as well as holding membership of the Society of Trust and Estate Practitioners (STEP), paints a vivid picture of the legal tensions this creates: promises made about farm transfers, falling-outs between parents and children, and the litigation that follows. The old assumption that the farming son gets the farm and off-farm assets go to everyone else is, she notes, increasingly being questioned.
Doug raises another pressure on modern legal practice: the Google-armed client. He recalls a family arriving having looked up the rule against perpetuities the night before. A little knowledge, he observes drily, can be a dangerous thing. Kylie adds that this is precisely why careful, unhurried thinking remains essential, a lesson Doug drummed into her when she first started, back when her instinct was to get everything done as quickly as possible.

The episode closes with one of its most enjoyable exchanges: Steve asks about fictional lawyers. Doug nominates Perry Mason and, with considerably more warmth, Dennis Denuto from The Castle, a man whose grasp of the law was limited but whose faith in the vibe of it was unshakeable. Kylie, more practically, notes that films have given clients thoroughly incorrect expectations about everything from courtroom procedure to the formal reading of the will (there is no such legal requirement) to the idea that marriage automatically entitles each party to half of everything. As for Steve’s elaborate video will, he has just learned it will never be shown. He is very sorry to hear it.

Here are links to a few of Kylie’s blog posts about farm succession, referenced in the discussion:

Kangaroo Island: What a Movie About Two Sisters Can Teach You About Estate Planning

What Troy Cassar-Daley’s ‘Family Farm’ Teaches About Succession Planning On Yorke Peninsula

Why the Most Well-Intentioned Promise About Your Will Might Not Help Your Children

00:38:09 Musical Pilgrimage

In the Musical Pilgrimage, we feature My Chérie‘s new song, released today, Stuck Inside My Head.

Adelaide is buzzing this week. WOMADelaide is upon us, and right in the thick of it is local artist My Chérie, whose brand new single Stuck Inside My Head drops today. Written and performed entirely by My Chérie, with additional production, mixing, and mastering by Mario Spate, it is an indie folk-rock meditation on neurodivergence, spiritual longing, and the very human challenge of quieting a restless mind. My Chérie has described wanting the production to feel like summoning an inner power: a moment of connection with something bigger, almost like nature answering back. For fans of Soccer Mommy, Samia, and Wolf Alice, and for anyone who has ever lain awake with their thoughts looping at full volume, this one will feel like a hand on the shoulder.

Support the show: https://theadelaideshow.com.au/listen-or-download-the-podcast/adelaide-in-crowd/

See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

The white marquees are not going up in the Pioneer Women’s Memorial Garden this year. Adelaide Writers’ Week, a festival that has graced this city since 1960, was cancelled following a sequence of events set in motion by a disinvitation that drew international condemnation, triggered the resignation of director Louise Adler and nearly the entire board, and ultimately prompted an unreserved apology from a newly constituted board. Community alternatives, including Constellations at the Adelaide Town Hall, have stepped forward to keep the spirit of the festival alive. The Adelaide Show is doing the same, in its own way.

There is no SA Drink of the Week in this episode.

The Musical Pilgrimage closes the episode with an original composition, “Uncomfortable Ideas,” written by Steve Davis and performed by Steve Davis & The Virtualosos. More than a few people have suggested it deserves to be the unofficial anthem of this year’s festival.

You can navigate episodes using chapter markers in your podcast app. Not a fan of one segment? You can click next to jump to the next chapter in the show. We’re here to serve!

The Adelaide Show Podcast: Awarded Silver for Best Interview Podcast in Australia at the 2021 Australian Podcast Awards and named as Finalist for Best News and Current Affairs Podcast in the 2018 Australian Podcast Awards.

And please consider becoming part of our podcast by joining our Inner Circle. It’s an email list. Join it and you might get an email on a Sunday or Monday seeking question ideas, guest ideas and requests for other bits of feedback about YOUR podcast, The Adelaide Show. Email us directly and we’ll add you to the list: [email protected]

If you enjoy the show, please leave us a 5-star review in iTunes or other podcast sites, or buy some great merch from our Red Bubble store – The Adelaide Show Shop. We’d greatly appreciate it.

And please talk about us and share our episodes on social media, it really helps build our community. Oh, and here’s our index of all episode in one concise
page.

Running Sheet: Adelaide Writers’ Week in Absentia

00:00:00 Intro

Introduction

00:00:00 SA Drink Of The Week

There is no SA Drink Of The Week this week.

00:06:25 Adelaide Writers’ Week In Absentia

Steve Davis opens by acknowledging the cancellation of Adelaide Writers’ Week and the circumstances behind it, without dwelling on controversy for its own sake. The spirit of the festival, he argues, cannot be legislated out of existence, and The Adelaide Show is here to prove it.

Before the archive episodes begin, Steve offers a handful of literary touchstones. Patrick White observed that writing a novel is like an illness from which one is trying to recover, and that the artist’s role is to make sense of a world becoming increasingly nonsensical. Clive James described great books as voices that speak across the centuries, telling you that you are not alone. Vonnegut reminded us that we must be careful about what we pretend to be, and that reading leads to a life more grand, more empathetic, more civilised. And Douglas Adams, who loved deadlines for the whooshing noise they make as they go by, gives us a fitting frame for a festival that simply did not happen.

Two archive episodes follow, chosen for what they reveal about the real work of writing and the underappreciated world of genre fiction.

Segment One: Writing, Publishing, and Resetting Expectations, Episode 308
The pandemic was supposed to be the great gift to aspiring novelists. Time, solitude, and the vague sense that history was being made. What actually happened, for most people, was considerably less cinematic.

In this 2020 recording, four people who know the industry from the inside cut through the life-coach optimism that surrounded the period. Authors Jane Ainslie and Michelle Prak bring the writing perspective. Publishers Michael Bollen of Wakefield Press and Rommie Corso of Hardshell Publishing bring the business view. Together they create an unusually candid picture of what it actually takes to turn a manuscript into a book that someone buys.

The moment that sets the tone comes early. Jane Ainslie addresses the idea that everyone has a book inside them with the sort of directness that suggests she has been asked this at a lot of dinner parties: not every story the world has inside it is a story the world is waiting to read. Michelle Prak, who has put herself through five, six, sometimes seven drafts before a manuscript goes anywhere near an editor, adds that writing is a deeply enjoyable, deeply expensive hobby that tends to crowd out a great deal of everything else.

Michael Bollen introduces a concept that most aspiring authors have not quite faced: a book’s shelf life, for literary fiction, sits somewhere between milk and yoga. He describes the editorial process as a dance, with the editor standing in for the general reader, keeping an ego-free eye on whether the character who died on page seven has somehow reappeared at the party on page 86. Rommie Corso explains that self-published authors often resist the very commercial adjustments that would help their books find readers, wanting independence and viability at the same time. These do not always coexist.

There is a fine moment around the ethics of drawing real people into fiction. Michelle Prak describes her novel Goodbye Newsroom, set against the backdrop of shrinking newsrooms, as inspired by rather than transcribed from real events. Jane Ainslie explains that fictionalising her nursing experiences allowed her to treat them with more dignity than a straight memoir would permit. Steve raises the precedent of a Wakefield Press novel about South Australian politics whose characters bore a striking resemblance to identifiable figures (that was a reference to The novel you’re thinking of is Never A True Word by Michael McGuire, a former journalist and long‑time political writer for The Australian and The Advertiser – his interview was in episode 198). Michael Bollen confirms, diplomatically, that some adjustments were made.

Segment Two: The Art and Heart of Romance, Episode 111
The candles are on the table. There is a fire going. The Scenic Hotel has given this conversation a room of its own, and three romance authors have settled in to make a serious case for a genre that represents the largest slice of fiction sales on the planet, and which continues to be treated by the literary world as something slightly embarrassing.

Trish Morey, Victoria Purman, and Bronwyn Stuart are completely clear-eyed about what they do and why it matters. Romance, Trish explains, is not a “whodunit” but a “howdunit.” You know who ends up together. The pleasure is in the journey, and in not being able to work out how on earth these two people are going to find their way through all the obstacles between them. Victoria adds that romance readers were among the earliest adopters of digital books, and that the genre has long sustained a community of writers who support one another in ways other literary communities have not managed to replicate.

The conversation turns, as it always does in the best episodes, on a moment of genuine revelation. Victoria puts it plainly: the deepest appeal of romance fiction is that the heroine is truly seen by the hero. Trish confirms it. Steve, in what he describes as his second light bulb moment of the evening, sits with this for a beat before acknowledging that this is not a small thing.

Steve is also pressed into service reading from one of the novels in the voice of a cowboy hero. He brings considerable commitment to the performance. The authors’ response is warm, specific, and entirely at his expense.

The episode closes with the “Is It News?” quiz, hosted by Nigel Dobson, which draws on historical romance headlines from 1923 South Australia and, against all odds, confirms that the real thing was considerably more scandalous than anything currently on the romance shelf.

02:15:32 Musical Pilgrimage

In the Musical Pilgrimage, we feature Uncomfortable Ideas (The Adelaide Writers’ Week Song) by Steve Davis & The Virtualosos.

Writers’ festivals exist, at their best, to put uncomfortable ideas into a room and let people sit with them. Adelaide Writers’ Week found itself this year at the centre of a very public argument about whether that is still something institutions are willing to do.

The festival has been here before. Germaine Greer being Germaine Greer. The exposure of fabricated Holocaust revisionism behind the Helen Demidenko affair. Patrick White in 1986 urging writers to ignore critics if they wanted to avoid producing work that was safe and uninspiring and pleasing to nobody. Writers’ festivals are unsettling because they surface ideas people would often prefer to leave alone. They are necessary because a society that cannot examine uncomfortable thinking out loud gradually loses the capacity to protect itself from thinking that goes unexamined.

“Uncomfortable Ideas” was written by Steve Davis to speak directly to that tension. It addresses the short-sightedness of those who believe audiences need to be shielded from difficult thoughts, and it takes seriously Patrick White’s case for artistic courage that does not stop to ask permission. Listen for the bridge, which captures the specific feeling of an invitation to speak in the open air being overshadowed by voices that underestimated what a well-read audience is capable of holding.

Support the show: https://theadelaideshow.com.au/listen-or-download-the-podcast/adelaide-in-crowd/

See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

After 25+ years of reviewing Adelaide Fringe shows, Steve takes a sabbatical this year. But there’s one show he can’t help spotlighting: Rob Newman’s debut solo performance “Don’t Die Wondering”. Newman’s story offers something rare, a comedian willing to be deeply reflective about the journey that brought him to the stage at 60, shaped by a decade of hospitals and life-or-death moments.

This episode contains no SA Drink of the Week segment.

The Musical Pilgrimage features Steve’s own song about the Adelaide Fringe. Through “Centre Stage”, performed by Steve Davis and The Virtuosos, he offers a bittersweet love letter to a festival he’s watched change over decades. The segment includes his conversation with FiveAA’s Richard Pascoe about reviewing standards, five-star review inflation, and why the Fringe remains a jewel in South Australia’s crown.

You can navigate episodes using chapter markers in your podcast app. Not a fan of one segment? You can click next to jump to the next chapter in the show. We’re here to serve!

The Adelaide Show Podcast: Awarded Silver for Best Interview Podcast in Australia at the 2021 Australian Podcast Awards and named as Finalist for Best News and Current Affairs Podcast in the 2018 Australian Podcast Awards.

And please consider becoming part of our podcast by joining our Inner Circle. It’s an email list. Join it and you might get an email on a Sunday or Monday seeking question ideas, guest ideas and requests for other bits of feedback about YOUR podcast, The Adelaide Show. Email us directly and we’ll add you to the list: [email protected]

If you enjoy the show, please leave us a 5-star review in iTunes or other podcast sites, or buy some great merch from our Red Bubble store – The Adelaide Show Shop. We’d greatly appreciate it.

And please talk about us and share our episodes on social media, it really helps build our community. Oh, and here’s our index of all episode in one concise
page.

Running Sheet: This Adelaide Fringe Don’t Die Wondering

00:00:00 Intro

Introduction

00:00:00 SA Drink Of The Week

There is no SA Drink Of The Week this week.

00:03:17 Rob Newman

Rob Newman appears on screen in full purple surgical scrubs against a hospital backdrop. It’s not a gimmick. Over the past decade, he’s spent considerable time in hospitals and operating theatres, told more than once to gather his family and say goodbye. These experiences form the bedrock of Don’t Die Wondering.

The path to standup wasn’t part of Newman’s original plan. He traces it back to a coffee conversation with Steve 10 to 12 years ago. “Your suggestion at the time was, come and try standup,” Newman recalls. “It’s a great way to get the confidence to do public speaking.” What began as preparation for property market speaking tours became something much deeper.

Steve shares his own early standup experience, driving across Adelaide to work with Glynn Nicholas, heart palpitating so strongly he could feel his pulse under his eyebrows. Newman agrees about the terror, offering perhaps the most vivid description of pre-show nerves: “It’s the best cure for constipation you’ll ever get in your life.”

But the terror serves a purpose. Newman describes managing the fear of judgment. “Not so much to lose it, but control it in the sense of embracing the fear of it,” he explains. That fear never entirely disappears. What changes is the ability to handle surprises, to relax into improvisation, to step away from verbatim scripts.

The conversation explores performing as yourself versus hiding behind characters. Steve admits he gravitated toward characters partly because “anything negative feedback that might happen is water off a duck’s back. In some ways it’s the cheat’s way out.” Newman has stuck with vulnerability. “Be yourself,” he says. “Basically unzip yourself and be vulnerable.”

Steve’s immediate response: “What’s your show rated?” Newman confirms it’s R-rated, though the rating speaks more to emotional honesty than shock value.

Newman’s been running around Adelaide dressed as a surgeon, offering free medical checks as promotion for the show. It’s playful promotion, but also a way of inhabiting the hospital world that shaped his perspective.

Newman’s journey through the comedy ranks has been patient and methodical. Starting in his early fifties, he’s spent years developing his craft before attempting a solo Fringe show at 60. The title “Don’t Die Wondering” carries weight when spoken by someone who’s genuinely faced that possibility.

Rob Newman was a grant recipient through the Adelaide Fringe Foundation.

00:38:30 Musical Pilgrimage

In the Musical Pilgrimage, we feature Centre Stage (The Adelaide Fringe Song) by Steve Davis & The Virtualosos.

After 25+ years of reviewing Adelaide Fringe shows, often two to three per night, Steve presents his own song about the festival. “Centre Stage” is what he describes as “still a love song to the Fringe and just a cheeky fringe type, steampunk, gothic reflection on the state of play.” The lyrics trace the festival’s shift from experimental counterculture to celebrity-driven programming: “You were fringe to me / You did not need celebrities / But now a household name comes and cash in on fame / And crowds out smaller shows that have more soul.” His reviewing experience infuses the verses, cataloguing years spent in theatres, on blankets in parks, and sweltering in church halls without air vents, always writing reviews “to help all thinking people choose emerging art in our town.”

The conversation with FiveAA’s Richard Pascoe addresses reviewing standards and the proliferation of five-star reviews. “There are some reviewers who are promised critics, et cetera, but there’s a lot of light dusting out there,” Steve observes. “They have become cheapened, like the money in Argentina during their inflation.” Steve’s reviewing philosophy was always accountability: “I had to write them knowing that you would go and buy a ticket and you need to be able to look me in the eye and say, yep, that was accurate.” Despite his criticisms of how the Fringe has changed, Steve’s message remains clear: attend the Fringe, take chances on weird and experimental shows, support artists attempting something genuinely different. “Enjoy the Fringe. We should, no matter how we do it. It’s an absolute jewel in our crown.”

Support the show: https://theadelaideshow.com.au/listen-or-download-the-podcast/adelaide-in-crowd/

See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

As the March 21st, 2026 South Australian state election approaches, the Malinauskas Labor government maintains polling numbers that would make most incumbents envious. Yet beneath this apparent stability, questions linger about whether today’s ALP still embodies the values of the workers’ movement from which it emerged, or whether it has become something else entirely.

** The image features Gemini's best effort of imagining Steve Davis and Robert Godden as modern day Don Dunstans.

This episode features no SA Drink of the Week, a decision that tips its hat to both Robert Godden’s teetotalling preferences and to King O’Malley, the flamboyant insurance salesman who permanently removed the ‘u’ from ‘Labor’ while dodging questions about his own birthplace.

The Musical Pilgrimage presents Australia Day by Steve Davis and The Virtualosos, a song that addresses social cohesion and community connection in contemporary Australia, themes that connect directly to the political fragmentation discussed throughout the episode.

You can navigate episodes using chapter markers in your podcast app. Not a fan of one segment? You can click next to jump to the next chapter in the show. We’re here to serve!

The Adelaide Show Podcast: Awarded Silver for Best Interview Podcast in Australia at the 2021 Australian Podcast Awards and named as Finalist for Best News and Current Affairs Podcast in the 2018 Australian Podcast Awards.

And please consider becoming part of our podcast by joining our Inner Circle. It’s an email list. Join it and you might get an email on a Sunday or Monday seeking question ideas, guest ideas and requests for other bits of feedback about YOUR podcast, The Adelaide Show. Email us directly and we’ll add you to the list: [email protected]

If you enjoy the show, please leave us a 5-star review in iTunes or other podcast sites, or buy some great merch from our Red Bubble store – The Adelaide Show Shop. We’d greatly appreciate it.

And please talk about us and share our episodes on social media, it really helps build our community. Oh, and here’s our index of all episode in one concise
page.

Running Sheet: Is The ALP Guaranteed Victory In The 2026 South Australian Election?00:00:00 Intro

Introduction

00:00:00 SA Drink Of The Week

There is no SA Drink Of The Week this week.

00:02:37 Robert GoddenThe Adelaide Show: Special Briefing — The Labor Machine

This conversation serves as the companion piece to episode 423’s examination of the South Australian Liberal Party. Where that episode explored the Liberal Party’s challenges, this discussion has our political commentator, Robert Godden, apply the same analytical rigour to the South Australia Labor Party‘s position heading into the 2026 state election.

The conversation begins with King O’Malley, that peculiar figure in Australian political history who was, in Robert’s memorable description, “50% staunch Australian politician, 50% carnival worker.” O’Malley’s legacy includes both Canberra and the Commonwealth Bank of Australia, institutions that prompted Robert to reflect: “Most of us Australians can just give thanks to the days, you know, before you go to bed, you think, I’m glad I live in a country that has a bank with an appalling logo and a capital city in the middle of nowhere.”

The historical roots of the labour movement trace back to the Industrial Revolution, when workers were, as Robert puts it, “really the AI of the day, you know, come and get this. It’s cheap, it’ll do your work for you and you’ll make a huge profit.” This parallel between 19th century industrialisation and contemporary technological disruption threads through the conversation, particularly when Robert shares the story of a logistics company owner whose business is failing because “the work he used to do in working stuff out for people is now done by AI.”

The discussion explores how guilds differed from unions, with Robert explaining that guilds “were designed to move their members toward the ruling class. They weren’t, guilds didn’t really exist to lift all boats. They were a highly specific rising tide.” This distinction becomes relevant when examining modern Labor’s approach to worker representation.

Robert traces the evolution of Australian labor politics from its foundation in the shearers’ strikes of the 1890s through to contemporary challenges. The ALP emerged as the world’s first labour party to form government, a fact that speaks to Australia’s democratic traditions. Yet the party has undergone significant transformation, moving from representing primarily blue-collar workers to a broader base that includes professional and service sector employees.

The conversation examines whether modern Labor still serves its founding principles or has become absorbed into the political establishment it once challenged. Robert notes the irony that many Labor MPs now come from professional backgrounds rather than the shop floor, raising questions about whether they truly understand the working-class experience they claim to represent.

On the Malinauskas government specifically, the analysis reveals a pragmatic administration that has maintained stability during challenging economic conditions. However, Robert questions whether this stability comes at the cost of bold vision. “Is it enough to simply manage well, or should a labor government be pushing for more substantial change?” he asks.

The discussion touches on the tensions within modern Labor between traditional unionised workers and newer constituencies, between economic management and social justice, between South Australian interests and national party directions. Robert suggests that while Malinauskas has successfully navigated these tensions so far, the test will come when difficult choices force the government to reveal which interests truly take priority.

When examining Labor’s electoral prospects for 2026, Robert notes the Liberals’ current disarray creates favourable conditions, but warns against complacency. “Oppositions don’t win elections, governments lose them,” he observes. The question becomes whether Labor can maintain discipline and avoid the kinds of missteps that have undone seemingly secure governments in the past.

The conversation concludes with broader reflections on the state of South Australian politics. Robert suggests that both major parties face a fundamental challenge: reconnecting with an electorate that increasingly feels disconnected from traditional political structures. This alienation creates opportunities for minor parties and independents to claim territory that major parties once dominated.

Throughout the discussion, the historical parallels between past industrial disruption and contemporary technological change illuminate present challenges. Just as workers in the 1800s faced displacement by machinery, today’s workforce confronts automation and artificial intelligence. The question of how a modern Labor party responds to these challenges reveals much about whether it remains true to its founding mission of protecting workers’ interests.

01:24:41 Musical Pilgrimage

In the Musical Pilgrimage, we feature Australia Day by Steve Davis & The Virtualosos.

The Musical Pilgrimage connects directly to the episode’s themes of social cohesion and political fragmentation. Steve introduces his original composition “Australia Day” by reflecting on how disconnection fuels the rise of fringe political movements.

The song addresses the transformation of Australian community life, opening with the observation that “The Australia which I was born had lots of backyards and lots of lawn, and we knew our neighbours down the street.” This nostalgia isn’t mere sentimentality but recognition of something lost: the neighbourhood connections that once helped integrate newcomers and build social cohesion.

Steve explains how two factors exacerbate contemporary division. First, physical disconnection: “My dad used to know everyone in our neighbourhood, and therefore we did too. Now most of us hardly know anybody. We’ve got our houses closed off.” Second, algorithmic isolation: “The communication we do have externally is very filtered. Algorithm-focused content that feeds more of what the big American corporations like Meta and Google think is going to pander to our vulnerabilities.”

Drawing on his own experience living in Hungary, Steve reflects on the immigrant perspective: “When you’ve moved somewhere new… you look for compatriots to connect with, so you’ve got something to hold onto.” This understanding shapes the song’s call for empathy and connection rather than fear and division.

The song’s chorus captures the core message: “Who’s here is here now let’s make it work. It starts with learning. We share this dirt, we share the same song, we share the flies, and there’s a vibe here beneath our skies. Just tone it down, be laid back, bend a little, and cut some slack.”

Steve positions the song as a counterpoint to political and social fragmentation, a reminder of Australian values that have, imperfectly but meaningfully, helped diverse groups find common ground. “Part of that is not blowing a fuse at the smallest thing. It’s actually calming the farm and being a little bit laid back, holding things a little bit loosely, drawing a line in the sand when it needs to happen, but not making that a knee-jerk reaction.”

The song is available on all streaming platforms, and Steve extends an invitation to performers who might want to bring their own interpretation to the material.

Support the show: https://theadelaideshow.com.au/listen-or-download-the-podcast/adelaide-in-crowd/

See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

When a South Australian theatre company that began with The Tragical Life of Cheese Boy – performed more than 800 times worldwide – prepares to take its final bow, it doesn’t fade quietly. Instead, Slingsby is staging its most expensive and ambitious production yet: A Concise Compendium of Wonder, a triptych of three interconnected shows housed in a custom-built structure in the Botanic Gardens during the Adelaide Festival.In this episode, we settle into Slingsby’s Hall of Possibility in Parkside with artistic director and CEO Andy Packer for a wide-ranging conversation that explores the company’s distinctive aesthetic, their commitment to treating young audiences with intellectual honesty, and why nostalgia creates the perfect emotional space for processing difficult truths.

In the South Australian Drink Of The Week, we taste the company’s signature Hall of Possibility Tea – a bespoke blend featuring licorice root, organic lavender, red rose petals, spearmint and peppermint that Andy describes as both “invigorating and calming.

“The musical pilgrimage features the Slingsby Ensemble performing “Song for the Adolescent Seal” from their 2018 Adelaide Cabaret Festival show Songs for Those Who’ve Come Across the Seas – a piece Andy realised he’d forgotten to mention during our conversation, despite being extremely proud of it.

You can navigate episodes using chapter markers in your podcast app. Not a fan of one segment? You can click next to jump to the next chapter in the show. We’re here to serve!

The Adelaide Show Podcast: Awarded Silver for Best Interview Podcast in Australia at the 2021 Australian Podcast Awards and named as Finalist for Best News and Current Affairs Podcast in the 2018 Australian Podcast Awards.

And please consider becoming part of our podcast by joining our Inner Circle. It’s an email list. Join it and you might get an email on a Sunday or Monday seeking question ideas, guest ideas and requests for other bits of feedback about YOUR podcast, The Adelaide Show. Email us directly and we’ll add you to the list: [email protected]

If you enjoy the show, please leave us a 5-star review in iTunes or other podcast sites, or buy some great merch from our Red Bubble store – The Adelaide Show Shop. We’d greatly appreciate it.

And please talk about us and share our episodes on social media, it really helps build our community. Oh, and here’s our index of all episode in one concise
page.

Running Sheet: A Slingsby Life Of Wonder With Andy Packer

00:00:00 Intro

Introduction

00:03:12 SA Drink Of The Week

The SA Drink Of The Week this week is Brewed by Belinda Hall of Possibilitea.

Belinda Hill of Brewed by Belinda created this bespoke blend specifically for Slingsby, capturing both the company’s aesthetic and the practical needs of artists in creative process. The brief: create something both invigorating and calming.

The blend looks almost theatrical. Organic lavender, red rose petals, organic blue cornflower petals creating visual layers in the pot. Licorice root provides the grounding bass note, with spearmint and peppermint lifting everything. There’s aniseed hiding in there too.
Andy explains the tea’s role in Slingsby’s creative practice. During those inevitable moments developing new work when “you get very lost,” the tea provides structured pause. “People go off and do different things and I’ll have a cup of tea and I might go outside for a little while. Usually you find the solution.”

What’s crucial is that Hall of Possibility Tea won’t get bitter or overly steeped. “There’s no black tea leaf or anything like that. It just gets better.” Andy keeps a flask throughout rehearsal days, taking sips during fifteen-minute breaks.

As we taste, the experience unfolds in layers. Initially, the mint notes dominate. Then the aniseed emerges from backstage, as Andy puts it, “ready for you, it knew you were coming, it was just waiting in the wings.”

By the end of our tasting, all the subtle players have made their entrance. No single flavour dominates. They’re holding hands across the palate like a well-mannered audience at a Slingsby show.

Slingsby has been gifting this tea to presenting partners around the world since 2019. After performances overseas, small tins of Hall of Possibility Tea remain behind, tangible tokens of the connections Slingsby creates between communities.

00:13:08 Andy Packer

Andy Packer describes A Concise Compendium of Wonder as “the perfect bookend” to Slingsby Theatre Company’s twenty-year journey. We’re sitting in the Hall of Possibility in Parkside, where families have gathered to experience work that never softened darkness for young audiences, never offered easy answers. In a few weeks, after the final curtain falls on this ambitious triptych at the Adelaide Festival, Slingsby will cease creating new work. The company that began with The Tragical Life of Cheeseboy, performed more than 800 times worldwide, closes with its most expensive, most ambitious production yet.

In this interview, you’ll discover:

The origins trace back to amateur theatre at La Mama in the late eighties, where Packer learnt that being involved in every aspect wasn’t just practical necessity but essential training. “You are crafting an experience for an audience, not just there for your ego to be on stage, but actually to prepare the space to welcome people into the church that theater can be.”

The crystallising moment arrived in Montreal in 2005, watching Danish company Group 38 perform The Little Match Girl. Packer sat in the audience afterwards and wept for fifteen minutes, unable to move. That company’s aesthetic showed him precisely what he wanted to create. Slingsby’s first expenditure as a company was flying their entire creative team to Hobart to see Group 38 perform again, establishing that benchmark from day one.

The distinctive Slingsby voice, that curious blend of the new and familiar, serves a specific purpose. “When you create a nostalgic space, it’s like you’ve gone on a holiday back in time,” Packer explains. “You let your guard down and that allows you to attend to the deep concern, the deep anxiety that sits deeper.”

Slingsby productions have never shied from exploring loss, loneliness, domestic violence and grief. “We can’t protect our audience, we can’t protect children. We have to prepare them.” But preparation doesn’t mean pessimism. Every show ends with hope.

The conversation hopscotches through key productions:

• The Tragical Life of Cheese Boy (800+ performances)
• Man Covets Bird (where a boy’s parents no longer recognise him)
• Ode to Nonsense (a full opera celebrating Edward Lear)
• The Young King (Oscar Wilde’s fable about capitalism performed without softening)
• Emil and the Detectives (capturing post-war reconstruction with audiences building cardboard cities)
• The Boy Who Talked to Dogs (an Irish-Australian collaboration about surviving domestic violence)

The final chapter confronts climate reality. Measuring carbon use revealed that flying sets internationally consumed vastly more carbon than shipping by sea or road transport. “We can’t be flying sets around anymore. We wanna make the world a better place, but we wanna do it now in a way that reduces our impact on the climate.”

The solution: A Concise Compendium of Wonder. Three shows, Hansel and Gretel, The Selfish Giant, and The Little Match Girl, performed by one cast on one regeneratively designed wooden building that can be disassembled and reused. The Wandering Hall of Possibility features 17 speakers, 5,500 pixels built into walls, seating that reconfigures for each show, all touring by road only.

The three fairytales trace a journey from medieval times to 3099 on a lunar colony. At the centre of each story sits a tree or forest, moving from living as part of the forest, to fighting for access to a single Moreton Bay fig, to finding the last tree on the moon whilst Earth re-greens in humanity’s absence.

For Adelaide audiences, the Wandering Hall sits on Plane Tree Lawn in the Botanic Gardens. This is both thank you season and goodbye. Audiences can experience one show or commit to the full “sling cycle” across one day.

“I think it is the most important thing happening in the universe right now,” Packer says about the intent behind every Slingsby show. “We want this for the people that have bothered to come and be with us.”

01:07:07 Musical Pilgrimage

In the Musical Pilgrimage, we feature a piece from the Slingsby show that Andy Packer forgot to mention during our conversation, an oversight that left him “racked with angst.”

Songs for Those Who’ve Come Across the Seas premiered at the Adelaide Cabaret Festival in 2018 and was subsequently invited for a three-week season at the New Victory Theater in New York and a festival in Atlanta. COVID prevented those tours. “Sometimes even the big fish get away,” Andy philosophically notes.

The Slingsby Ensemble perform Song for the Adolescent Seal with the distinctive musicality that characterises Quincy Grant’s compositions, spare and emotionally direct. The piece explores the necessary letting go that allows children to grow into their full selves.

There’s additional resonance hearing this now, as Slingsby itself prepares to let go. The song’s metaphor of adolescent seals venturing beyond safe shores speaks to trusting that what you’ve nurtured will survive and flourish independently.

Support the show: https://theadelaideshow.com.au/listen-or-download-the-podcast/adelaide-in-crowd/

See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

When Indian cricket fans unleash fury on Twitter about disputed LBW calls, host Steve Davis fields the abuse meant for someone else. This episode brings together both Steve Davises for the first time. The retired umpire who stood in 57 Test matches shares what it’s like to make split-second decisions in front of millions, survive a terrorist attack in Lahore, and maintain composure when Shane Warne announces his next delivery to the batter.

The SA Drink of the Week features Ballycroft Vineyard and Cellars’ 2024 Small Berry Montepulciano from Langhorne Creek, tasted and endorsed by both Steve Davises. The wine presents an intriguing contradiction, its dark appearance suggesting heavy Barossa Shiraz, yet delivering a lighter, fruit-forward palette that Joe Evans recommends chilling for summer enjoyment.

The Musical Pilgrimage features Steve Davis and the Virtualosos with “From the Cathedral to the City End,” weaving together Test cricket, Adelaide Oval, and the 1662 Book of Common Prayer into a meditation on how this game brings us together.

You can navigate episodes using chapter markers in your podcast app. Not a fan of one segment? You can click next to jump to the next chapter in the show. We’re here to serve!

The Adelaide Show Podcast: Awarded Silver for Best Interview Podcast in Australia at the 2021 Australian Podcast Awards and named as Finalist for Best News and Current Affairs Podcast in the 2018 Australian Podcast Awards.

And please consider becoming part of our podcast by joining our Inner Circle. It’s an email list. Join it and you might get an email on a Sunday or Monday seeking question ideas, guest ideas and requests for other bits of feedback about YOUR podcast, The Adelaide Show. Email us directly and we’ll add you to the list: [email protected]

If you enjoy the show, please leave us a 5-star review in iTunes or other podcast sites, or buy some great merch from our Red Bubble store – The Adelaide Show Shop. We’d greatly appreciate it.

And please talk about us and share our episodes on social media, it really helps build our community. Oh, and here’s our index of all episode in one concise
page.

Running Sheet: Steve Davis Talks Cricket With Former Umpire Steve Davis

00:00:00 Intro

Introduction

00:01:50 SA Drink Of The Week

The SA Drink Of The Week this week is a 2024 Ballycroft Montepelciano.

Joe Evans of Ballycroft Vineyard and Cellars made an unexpected connection five weeks before this recording. During a Barossa wine tour for friends visiting from England, Steve Davis the umpire introduced himself at the cellar door. Joe mentioned knowing another Steve Davis from Adelaide, someone involved in cricket. The dots joined. Both Steve Davises then converged on this episode, linked by Langhorne Creek grapes and the patron saint of Adelaide.

The 2024 Small Berry Montepulciano arrives in the glass looking deceptively heavy. Its dark colour suggests bold Barossa Shiraz, thick and commanding. Yet the first sip tells a different story. Light fruit dances on the palette, a brightness unexpected from that brooding appearance. Joe recommends chilling it slightly and serving through summer, perfect with Italian or Mexican food.

Steve the umpire remembers that 10:30am Sunday morning tasting at Ballycroft. When Joe poured this wine, Steve thought immediately of Barossa Shiraz. That’s his drink. But then came the taste, revealing something gentler yet structured. The wine builds as it sits on the palette, gaining weight and presence. Like a pitch heading into day three or four, settling into its rhythm rather than losing life.

The conversation meanders through wine, travel and cuisine. West Indies food has never won Steve’s heart, so more of this Montepulciano would help those meals considerably. Host Steve notes how the wine shifts from what seems like a marriage between Pinot Noir and rosé to something with genuine body and staying power. It’s not Pinot weight, not Grenache or Merlot either. The complexity reveals itself slowly, rewarding patience.

The 2024 Small Berry Montepulciano from Ballycroft Vineyard and Cellars, endorsed by two Steve Davises, stands as this week’s South Australian drink.

00:10:25 Steve Davis and Steve Davis

INTRODUCTION:
So, I need to come clean about something. For years on Twitter, I’ve been fielding abuse meant for someone else. Indian cricket fans would see “Steve Davis” and unleash fury about a disputed LBW or a missed edge – and when I’d reply, mortified apologies would flood in. They’d meant the *other* Steve Davis. The one who stood in 57 Test matches, 137 ODIs, survived a terrorist attack in Lahore, and spent 25 years making split-second decisions in front of millions. Today, finally, I get to meet the bloke whose honour I’ve been accidentally defending. Steve Davis, welcome to The Adelaide Show.

NOTES:

The conversation begins with a revelation. Far from being retired, Steve Davis the umpire spends twelve months a year refereeing cricket across two continents. Every six months he travels to England for County Cricket, returning to Australia for Sheffield Shield and Big Bash matches. When he thought retirement from umpiring might leave him lost, the England and Wales Cricket Board offered him a lifeline that turned into a globe-trotting vocation.

His cricket origins trace back to Elizabeth, newly formed with perhaps eight houses when his parents arrived as ten-pound Poms. His father Dave Davis played for WRE Cricket Club alongside John Scarce, whose son Kevin Scarce kept wicket for Steve at Elizabeth High School and later became Governor of South Australia. Cricket in Adelaide was woven through family, friendship and those Saturday afternoons where you’d stand in as a sub fielder, watching your father’s team and falling deeper into the game’s rhythm.

The path to international umpiring began humbly in D Grade after finishing his playing career at West Torrens. Within two seasons he’d progressed to A Grade, and by November 1990 he was officiating his first Sheffield Shield match. His debut came partly through circumstance rather than genius. When Tony Crafter retired to become Australia’s first full-time umpire manager, a vacancy opened among South Australia’s two eligible international umpires. Steve joined Darryl Harper in that select group.

On 12 December 1992, exactly 33 years ago yesterday, he walked onto Adelaide Oval for his first One Day International. Pakistan versus West Indies. His home ground, but the nerves were overwhelming. Terry Prue, his Western Australian colleague, radioed from square leg to report that Richie Richardson had noticed Steve missing all of Wasim Akram’s no balls. In his nervousness, he’d forgotten to look down at the front foot. When he finally started calling them, Wasim’s response was gentlemanly: “Oh, come on, we’re all friends out here. Give me a bit of warning.”
The umpire’s process demands intense concentration. First, watch the front foot land. The moment it’s safe, eyes shoot straight to the bottom of the stumps, letting the ball come into view. As soon as the ball dies, switch off briefly, then begin again. Steve ran his counter one ball ahead, clicking after each delivery so the number five meant two balls remaining. This meant no clicking back for no balls, just not clicking forward. Tim May once stopped mid-delivery and demanded Steve stop clicking his counter during the run-up.

His Ashes Test debut at Adelaide Oval in 1997, just his second Test match, stands as one of his finest days. He got every decision right on a 44-degree day when England lost the toss and their bowlers were bowling one-over spells in the heat. Steve Bucknor, his partner that day, also had a flawless match. Alex Stewart still calls him “legend” when they meet at English grounds.

The Decision Review System arrived while Steve was umpiring, transforming the role completely. Some umpires, like Mark Benson, couldn’t handle seeing their decisions overturned repeatedly. Benson flew home after two days of a Test match in Australia and never returned to international cricket. Steve embraced DRS immediately. His philosophy was simple: we’re going to end up with the right decision. Better that than five days of a team reminding you about that first-ball error while the batter you gave not out compiles a century.

These days, third umpires call all no balls in televised matches. The technology highlights the foot crossing the line, removing that split-second judgment from the on-field umpire. Steve wonders if he’d survive in today’s game, his neural networks so hardwired to glance down then up that retraining might prove impossible.

The theatre of the raised finger remains cricket’s most iconic gesture. Steve took his time with it, though not as long as his late friend Rudy Koertzen, dubbed “Slow Death” for the excruciating journey his hand took from behind his back to above his head. Some umpires point at the batter instead of raising the finger, a practice Steve abhors. The law says raise the index finger above your head. The drama lies in that pause, that moment of tension before the finger rises.

He carried the essentials: a counter, a wallet-style kit with sprig tightener, pen and pencil, notepad for recording incidents, light meter readings, and lip balm. Some umpires packed their pockets with everything imaginable, but Steve kept it minimal. His process worked. He knew what every ball demanded of him.

Shane Warne’s deliveries would fizz through the air with such spin and accuracy that he’d announce his intentions to batters. “This is my wrong one. This one’s going on your leg stump.” It worked brilliantly, planting doubt even as batters wondered if he really meant it. Murali presented different challenges. Steve couldn’t predict where his deliveries would spin until he noticed Sangakkara’s gloves lining up behind the stumps. The great wicketkeeper knew exactly where every Murali ball was heading, providing Steve a crucial visual cue.

The conversation turns to safety. Fast bowlers send the ball down at 150 kilometres per hour. When batters connect with the full force of their bats, that ball can come back even faster. Steve got hit more than once. At St Lucia during a West Indies versus Pakistan match, he turned at the wrong moment and the ball struck him square in the backside. Looking up at the big screen, he saw himself mouthing the words that immediately came out, while David Boon and Paul Reiffel, his Australian colleagues that day, doubled over in laughter. The Pakistani batter complained that Steve cost him four runs. Steve’s reply: “Bad luck. You cost me a bruised bum.”

The smashing of glass still triggers something in him. Loud noises. Fireworks. His wife Annie says he didn’t get enough counselling after Lahore. She’s probably right. On 3 March 2009, terrorists attacked the Sri Lankan team’s convoy in Lahore. Steve’s van, carrying the umpires, was the only vehicle left in the roundabout after the team’s bus escaped. Every window was shot out. The driver died instantly from a gunshot wound. All five security outriders were killed. Lying on the floor among broken glass, Steve thought: this is not the way I should die. Not here. Not on the way to umpire a Test match.

They survived. The terrorists realised the Sri Lankan team had escaped and stopped firing. Steve returned to umpiring but never went back to Pakistan. He did return to other parts of the subcontinent, to other places that required trusting local security. During the drive back to the hotel after the attack, past kids playing cricket on dust bowls, he knew Pakistan wouldn’t see international cricket for years. Those kids who loved the game wouldn’t see their heroes. The political and ideological conflicts would keep cricket away.

Asked which game he’d relive for eternity, Steve chooses that second Test match at Adelaide Oval. The Ashes. England versus Australia. His home ground. Forty-four degrees. Every decision correct. Recognition from players like Alex Stewart who still speak warmly of his performance. It represents everything he worked towards: getting it right when it mattered most, on the ground where he grew up watching cricket, in the series that defines the sport.

He umpired with characters who became dear friends. Ian Gould, whose father was also named Cyril George, just like Steve’s dad. An impossibly unlikely pairing of names that bonded them immediately. In Calcutta, when Gould was being carted off to hospital with dehydration, he had to fill out a form listing his father’s name while smoking and drinking black tea. Steve looked over his shoulder and saw “Cyril George” written there. On Gould’s final stint umpiring in Birmingham, Steve was the referee. They spent every evening walking the canals with a few pints, the only four-day match where Steve never filed a meal claim. Rudy Koertzen. Steve Bucknor. These were the colleagues who made the profession worthwhile.

The spirit of cricket exists, though interpretation varies. Steve recalls Andrew Strauss making a fair point during the Steve Finn incident at Leeds. Finn had a habit of knocking the bails off at the bowler’s end with his knee during his delivery stride. Both batsmen, Graeme Smith and Alvaro Petersen, complained it was distracting. When Finn did it again and Smith edged to Strauss for a catch, Steve had already signalled dead ball. Strauss came over and said quietly: “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to do that?” Steve acknowledged it was a fair point. He probably should have warned the captain. The laws changed after that Test. If stumps are dislodged at the bowler’s end, it’s now a no ball. Cricket people sometimes call it the Steve Finn Steve Davis law change.

Cricket’s hierarchy remains clear. Test cricket stands at the pinnacle. Always has, always will. Ask any umpire who the best officials are, and they’ll list those who’ve done the most Tests. Steve’s 57 Tests mean everything to him. The 137 ODIs are nice, but Tests define an umpiring career. The Hundred in England draws families beautifully, but Test cricket is where greatness lives.

At the end of play, Steve would call “Time, gentlemen. That’s time.” A simple phrase marking the end of another day’s combat, another day of split-second decisions, theatre, and that noble spirit that still runs through cricket despite everything that tries to corrupt it.

02:00:15 Musical Pilgrimage

In the Musical Pilgrimage, we listen to From The Cathedral To The City End by Steve Davis & The Virtualosos.

IThe Cathedral looms over Adelaide Oval, watching cricket unfold from the city of churches. Steve Davis and the Virtualosos have woven together Test cricket, the Cathedral End, and the 1662 Book of Common Prayer into “From the Cathedral to the City End.” The song opens with the Prayer of Humble Access rewritten: “We do not presume to come to this thy over trusting in our own righteousness.”

Host Steve explains his childhood love for that beautiful English language, attending Church of England services where those words embedded themselves in his memory. The prayer’s cadence and dignity stayed with him. When writing this song, he wanted to capture three elements: Test cricket, Adelaide Oval’s special significance through Bradman and Bodyline, and that cathedral presence overlooking the ground.

The question arises: have you ever stood as an umpire and thought a captain made a terrible decision bringing on a particular bowler at the wrong end? Steve the umpire smiles. Sure, sometimes you think it’s surprising, maybe even adventurous under your breath. But someone who knows better than you made that choice, usually the bowler themselves selecting their preferred end. Most decisions are sound, even if they don’t prove successful. You can’t roll your eyes. You can’t show any reaction.

Commentators now need special accreditation to enter certain areas. The hierarchy maintains that barrier. Umpires can visit the press box, but commentators can’t come into the umpires’ area without risking trouble. It’s a good separation. Before play they chat on the field, saying hello to the numerous commentators modern broadcasts require. Steve never worried about Tony Greig sticking his key into the pitch. Didn’t seem to do much damage.

The song plays, capturing that ritual: hours before proceedings commence, sandwiches thoughtfully made, pushing close to the fence, ladies and gentlemen on the village green putting down their glasses. Two thousand balls, two thousand trials, each one potentially a wicket or hit for miles. Concentration demanded because no two are the same. From the Cathedral to the City End, making cricket bring us together again, forever and ever and ever.

Support the show: https://theadelaideshow.com.au/listen-or-download-the-podcast/adelaide-in-crowd/

See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Political commentator Robert Godden returns to The Adelaide Show with a thesis that cuts to the bone: The South Australian Liberal Party has no realistic chance of winning the forthcoming election. But his essay raises an even more unsettling question: can they realistically ever win another one?

This episode doesn’t feature an SA Drink of the Week, allowing more time for a forensic examination of what’s gone wrong with liberalism itself, and the party that bears its name.

In the Musical Pilgrimage, Steve shares “Spring Gully Road”, his song chronicling four generations of the Webb family’s beloved pickle company, from Edward McKee’s small brown onions in 1946 to the recent appointment of administrators, drawing a tenuous but poignant parallel to the Liberal Party’s own decline.

You can navigate episodes using chapter markers in your podcast app. Not a fan of one segment? You can click next to jump to the next chapter in the show. We’re here to serve!

The Adelaide Show Podcast: Awarded Silver for Best Interview Podcast in Australia at the 2021 Australian Podcast Awards and named as Finalist for Best News and Current Affairs Podcast in the 2018 Australian Podcast Awards.

And please consider becoming part of our podcast by joining our Inner Circle. It’s an email list. Join it and you might get an email on a Sunday or Monday seeking question ideas, guest ideas and requests for other bits of feedback about YOUR podcast, The Adelaide Show. Email us directly and we’ll add you to the list: [email protected]

If you enjoy the show, please leave us a 5-star review in iTunes or other podcast sites, or buy some great merch from our Red Bubble store – The Adelaide Show Shop. We’d greatly appreciate it.

And please talk about us and share our episodes on social media, it really helps build our community. Oh, and here’s our index of all episode in one concise
page.

Running Sheet: Do The Liberals Have No Chance Of Winning This Forthcoming South Australian Election?

00:00:00 Intro

Introduction

00:00:00 SA Drink Of The Week

No SA Drink Of The Week this week.

00:05:07 Robert Godden

Before diving into party politics, Steve and Robert tackle a fundamental question: what is liberalism itself? Drawing on American political philosopher Patrick Deneen’s work (as sampled from the glorious podcast, Econtalk, episode July 9, 2018), they explore how liberalism originally meant self-governance within community, where individuals held themselves accountable within the framework of church and society. Deneen argues that modern liberalism, both classical and progressive, has fractured into two economic camps: classical liberals claiming government interferes with freedom, and progressive liberals arguing that economic inequality prevents people from achieving liberty.

Robert offers his working definition: liberalism has always been about “the bigger pie theory”. Classical liberals like John Locke, Adam Smith and John Stewart Mill championed free markets as the path to prosperity for all. But as Robert notes, these philosophers wrote their treatises while people lived in gutters within ten miles of them, suggesting their definitions had blind spots about who they actually represented.

The conversation turns to neoliberalism, which Robert describes as taking the apple of classical liberalism and focusing on its core: free market capitalism, fiscal austerity, individual responsibility, and globalisation. The problem? Many neoliberals benefited from generous government support before pulling up the ladder behind them. As Robert puts it, they’re “more like a wild jackal in a wolf’s clothing”, presenting themselves as something more palatable whilst pursuing fundamentally conservative ends.

When Steve asks about the overlap between liberalism (lowercase L) and the Liberal Party (uppercase L), Robert’s answer is stark: “The Venn diagram of liberalism and the Liberal Party is not a perfect circle. It’s more like a third overlap.” John Howard’s famous declaration that the Liberal Party is “a broad church” marked both the high point and the beginning of the end. Where Howard allowed diverse opinions united by shared values, today’s party demands conformity. Robert observes you could “literally interchange” Angus Taylor with five other Liberal members and several Nationals, they’ve become so ideologically uniform.

Robert shares a revealing personal story from his childhood in Whyalla. At age 12 or 13, he wagged school to attend a lunch where Malcolm Fraser was speaking. After enduring mumbled warnings about Bill Hayden, young Robert lined up afterwards and asked the Prime Minister where he could find out what the government would actually do if re-elected. The dismissive response and perfunctory policy booklet were Robert’s first disillusionment with political rhetoric over substance.

This leads to a broader discussion about accountability’s erosion in Australian politics. Robert identifies a turning point: when Jay Weatherill wasn’t held responsible for abuse discovered in South Australian schools because “nobody had told him”. This represented a complete rewriting of Westminster conventions about ministerial responsibility. Compare that to Barry O’Farrell resigning as New South Wales Premier over failing to declare a $300 bottle of wine, or John Howard’s principled approach to the GST, admitting he was wrong, explaining why he’d changed his mind, and taking that position to an election.

The discipline of the Fraser and Howard years came from a culture where the party room would discuss issues on merit, then Fraser or Howard would determine the right course, and the party would follow with discipline, not through fear but through shared purpose. Today’s Liberal Party has abandoned that model for something closer to authoritarianism without the competence to make it work.

When discussing South Australia specifically, Robert doesn’t hold back about Vincent Tarzia’s challenges. Beyond policy positions, there’s the fundamental problem of presence. Robert recalls a body language seminar by Alan Pease where five people were cast for different film roles based purely on appearance. We can’t help making these visual judgements. Tarzia, Robert notes, is “one of the 5% of the population that never blinks”, creating an unfortunate vampire quality. He looks like “a Muppet version of Dracula”. Combined with a voice lacking joy, he presents as “the joyless undead” when facing off against Peter Malinauskas’s considerable charisma.

Robert’s assessment of the Malinauskas government is admirably even-handed for someone with Liberal roots. He calls it “the best government in Australia” whilst adding the qualifier “a totalitarian dictatorship that makes you feel good”. Everything is done Malinauskas’s way, but unlike Putin or Trump, he’s careful never to say anything that isn’t actually true. He might make predictions that don’t pan out, but he won’t barefaced lie, and if an idea isn’t popular, he simply doesn’t voice it. The result is what Robert calls “preshrunk jeans” of political messaging.

Robert’s father, a lifelong Liberal voter and member, has only been impressed by two political figures: Gough Whitlam, whose charisma was “absolutely off the chart” despite taking four people to dinner when a Whyalla event was mistakenly under-attended, and Peter Malinauskas, who regularly visits the Whyalla Men’s Shed. This speaks to something fundamental about political success. As Robert observes, great Labor leaders have consistently been better communicators and sellers of vision because their message is easier: “you’re being ripped off by the system, and we’re going to sort it for you” beats “if we govern ourselves, all will be great” in almost any contest.

The federal picture offers one glimmer of hope: Victoria’s new opposition leader, Jess Wilson. In her thirties, a lawyer and former business advisor to Josh Frydenberg and the Business Council of Australia, she represents exactly the kind of moderate Liberal who should have been in the party all along but whom the party’s rightward drift has made anomalous. As Robert puts it, “the idea that Jess Wilson should be in the Liberal Party is an idea that is eight years out of date. She should be a teal.” The teals, after all, are liberal party people who haven’t gone down the right-wing rabbit hole.

This raises the central question: are there eight to ten members of parliament the federal Liberals could have had? Yes, the teals. “All of those teal candidates could have been Liberal Party candidates and would have been 15 or 20 years ago if they had not wilfully taken this blindness about the climate.”

Speaking of climate, Robert dissects Susan Ley’s recent positioning as if she’s discovered that abandoning net zero and embracing fossil fuels will bring electoral victory. The polling suggests otherwise. Among diverse Australians, Labor’s primary vote sits at 46%, the Coalition at 17%. Gen Z voters break 51% Labor, 10% Coalition. The Liberals are “aiming at the wrong target”, trying to chip 10% from groups with 10% when they should be targeting Labor’s 46%. They should be saying “your ideas are great, it’s a pity you’re not smarter, we’re going to get to where you want to get but we’ll do it better.” Instead, they get their facts from Facebook.

The cognitive dissonance is staggering. National Party MPs stand up claiming farmers don’t want renewable energy whilst farmers lead the way with innovative approaches: solar panels in fields that collect water, provide shade for sheep grazing underneath, and generate income. Farmers don’t want bushfires or floods, they want to make money. Watch ABC’s Landline, Robert suggests, though the Nationals would dismiss it as left-wing propaganda.

Looking ahead, Robert sees no Liberal victory on any horizon in the next five to six years. More likely? “No Liberal Party, or let me put it another way: the Liberal Party not being the opposition.” They’re seriously under threat of other parties overtaking them. Federally, if you separate the Coalition partners, the numbers are nowhere near the historical imbalance where Nationals made up numbers for the Liberals. Now those numbers are close. A One Nation-National coalition would be numerically viable.

Victoria represents the critical test. If Jess Wilson’s woeful Liberals manage to topple a deeply unpopular Victorian government by picking the right leader, “that’ll be a critical moment for the Liberals to take that lesson.” Robert’s prediction? “The only reason we have to think they’re incapable of learning is all the evidence.”

Robert’s father once said that Don Dunstan’s departure horrified him, not because of policy agreement, but because Dunstan was a strong leader with ideas who made the state feel good about itself. That’s what’s missing from the contemporary Liberal Party: ideas that inspire rather than divide, leaders who build rather than tear down, and the humility to recognise when the world has changed and they haven’t.

The conversation closes with Winston Churchill’s 1920s quote distinguishing socialism from liberalism. Robert agrees it was “100% correct” for about 1924, when those ideologies were genuinely competing and distinct. But it’s become a caricature over the intervening century. The quote doesn’t really apply to 2025, when the ideologies have mingled, adapted, and in the case of the Australian Liberal Party, lost their way entirely.

01:14:33 Musical Pilgrimage

In the Musical Pilgrimage, we play Spring Gully Road, a song written by Steve Davis and performed by Steve Davis & The Virtualosos, chronicling the four-generation story of Spring Gully, one of South Australia’s most beloved food companies.

The story begins in 1946 when Edward McKee returned from the war and started growing small brown onions outside his back door on Spring Gully Road. His pickled onions became a South Australian staple. The company expanded under Allen and Eric, then weathered storms under Ross and Kevin’s leadership, before Russ and Tegan faced the modern challenge of cheap imports and changing market appetites.

Steve reveals a personal connection: his colleague Domenic at Funlife Fitness in Ingle Farm remembers his father growing small onions and cucumbers, taking sacks to Spring Gully weekly to be weighed and paid. It was simply part of the fabric of South Australian life.

In full disclosure, Steve is friends with Russell Webb, who along with Tegan led the company through its recent challenges before administrators were appointed. Most believe it’s written off and gone, but Steve holds hope for a way forward. They were doing innovative things to fight back against retailers bringing in cheap overseas alternatives, gutting the market for local sovereign food production capability.

The song’s folk-influenced simplicity captures something essential about generational enterprise, family legacy, and the challenge of maintaining local production in a globalised economy. The repeated refrain, “Turn the earth, turn the earth when it’s harvest time, pick the bounty and preserve it in your sweetly seasoned brine”, becomes a meditation on the cycles of growth, harvest, and preservation that sustained Spring Gully through good years and hard years.

Steve offers a tenuous but poignant link to the episode’s political discussion: the Liberal and Country League, precursor to the modern Liberal Party in South Australia, formed in 1932 and became the South Australian Division of the Liberal Party in 1945. Spring Gully started in 1946. Now in 2025, we have administrators appointed for Spring Gully, and Robert Godden suggesting you might as well call them in for the Liberal Party as well.

Both represent South Australian institutions facing existential questions about their future in a changed world. Both have served their communities for generations. Both are confronting the reality that what worked for decades may not work anymore. And both deserve more than a quiet fade into history.

Support the show: https://theadelaideshow.com.au/listen-or-download-the-podcast/adelaide-in-crowd/

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For months, as an algal bloom wreaked havoc on the South Australian coast, most residents steered clear but not Johanna Williams. She’s been down to Glenelg Beach daily, ruler and phone in hand, methodically tracking the carnage. What started as a small, concerned step by a self-described occupational therapist soon transformed into a citizen science project with over 10,000 observations of dead and dying marine life, offering a grim, close-up view of the ecological disaster. Johanna’s commitment, though personally confronting, gives scientists and the community essential data and a crucial human perspective.

This episode does not feature the SA Drink of the Week segment.

The show concludes with a Musical Pilgrimage that connects directly to the episode’s urgent environmental theme. We hear Steve Davis & The Virtualosos’ “While the Ocean Died,” a lyrical and sonic reflection on the collective pain and political complexities surrounding the algal bloom event.

You can navigate episodes using chapter markers in your podcast app. Not a fan of one segment? You can click next to jump to the next chapter in the show. We’re here to serve!

The Adelaide Show Podcast: Awarded Silver for Best Interview Podcast in Australia at the 2021 Australian Podcast Awards and named as Finalist for Best News and Current Affairs Podcast in the 2018 Australian Podcast Awards.

And please consider becoming part of our podcast by joining our Inner Circle. It’s an email list. Join it and you might get an email on a Sunday or Monday seeking question ideas, guest ideas and requests for other bits of feedback about YOUR podcast, The Adelaide Show. Email us directly and we’ll add you to the list: [email protected]

If you enjoy the show, please leave us a 5-star review in iTunes or other podcast sites, or buy some great merch from our Red Bubble store – The Adelaide Show Shop. We’d greatly appreciate it.

And please talk about us and share our episodes on social media, it really helps build our community. Oh, and here’s our index of all episode in one concise
page.

Running Sheet: Algal Bloom Beach Witness Johanna Williams

00:00:00 Intro

Introduction

00:00:00 SA Drink Of The Week

No SA Drink Of The Week this week.

00:02:55 Johanna Williams

Arriving home from a holiday to find Glenelg Beach “covered in dead fish” , Johanna Williams had a choice: unpack and write an angry Facebook post, or take action. She chose the latter, inadvertently becoming one of the state’s most dedicated, non-professional "marine biologists". Initially hoping the algal bloom would be a “transient, short-term event,” the surreal extent of the death spurred her to use the citizen science platform iNaturalist to upload her observations, believing this crucial “coalface” data would reach qualified scientists and government bodies to “formulate responses”.

Her daily 500-metre trek between Pier Street and the Jetty has revealed a tragic yet fascinating marine diversity. What she’s documenting—now over 10,000 observations—includes rare deep-sea fish like the long snout boar fish and warty prowl fish, species scientists rarely encounter alive. This wealth of data is heartbreakingly significant, as it allows researchers to collect, age, and perform genetic and toxicological testing on specimens that could never be found otherwise, highlighting the deep reach of the bloom into the ecosystem.

The work is intensely confronting, involving more than just dead fish. Johanna describes a traumatic encounter with a still-alive, spiky globe fish whose eyes were “really gazing and tracking” her. This and finding a paralysed silver gull due to toxic effects highlight the profound emotional toll and moral dilemmas faced by citizen scientists, such as whether to “prolong its death by putting it back in the water”. Johanna discusses how a supportive network of friends and a new community, including people from the university, has helped her “channel that energy” and despair into empowerment and meaningful data collection.

This environmental disaster also casts a shadow over the Glenelg foreshore, with Johanna noting a ripple effect of reduced foot traffic and the closure of local businesses, a “double whammy” alongside local tram disruptions. For listeners wanting to help, Johanna suggests starting with iNaturalist uploads, or connecting with projects like the SA Marine Mortality Project 2025 to assist with collecting fish for testing or contributing to local rehabilitation efforts, such as making oyster beds (wind chimes) to help filter the water.

• Great Southern Reef
  • Website
  • Mission: “Our mission is to inspire and empower society to protect and sustain Australia’s Great Southern Reef by promoting recognition, stewardship, and sustainable actions through impactful education, community engagement, and collaborative science.”
  • Janine Baker
• OzFish Unlimited
  • Website
  • Description: OzFish Unlimited is a not-for-profit organisation dedicated to helping the millions of Aussie recreational fishers take control of the health of their rivers, lakes and estuaries and shore up the future of the sport they love. OzFish Unlimited partners with fishers and the broader community to invest time and money into the protection and restoration of our waterways, counteracting decades of degradation.
  • Brad Martin
• Data gathering for South Australian 2025 marine mortality events
  • Project Link
  • Description: This project is set to automatically add aquatic vertebrates and macroinvertebrates annotated ‘dead’ from Feb 2025 onwards. Janine Baker is a key contact for this projects and has links with universities and researchers.
• SA Surf and Bloom
  • SA hub for information on our bloom. Share surfing/algae/ocean/coastal pictures and videos. Ask questions. I aim to share the love we have for our oceans, and keep surfers informed of the symptomatic surf spots.
  • Facebook Group
• ADELAIDE ALGAE BLOOM DISASTER
  • Facebook Group
  • Description: A place to upload pictures of this marine disaster that’s going to impact the Adelaide fishing scene for many years to come.
• Phytoplankton Society of South Australia
  • Facebook Group
  • Description: This group is for sharing knowledge on the Phytoplankton of South Australia, particularly in regard to the 2025 algal bloom we are experiencing. We welcome photos of microscopic phytoplankton (and accompanying pics of where they were taken) and especially experts who can identify them. This is a citizen science project for the benefit of everyone. We are also on iNaturalist. Big Thanks to Faith and Peri Coleman, Gabby at www.asisscientific.com.au, the Big Duck Boat, Victor Harbor Dolphin Watch and others who have made this possible.
• Sarah Hanson-Young, Manager of Greens Business in the Senate & Senator for South Australia
  • Annual Report 2025
• Further articles:
  • “Harmful Algal Bloom Aerosols and Human Health“
  • “Thousands of seadragons dead in South Australia’s worst recorded harmful algal bloom — IUCN Seahorse, Pipefish & Seadragon“
• An underwater guide to plants and animals in South Australia
  • PDF Guide
• PIRSA Factsheet – What to do if you have seen sick or dead birds
  • PDF Factsheet
• Birdlife Australia: Helping injured birds
  • Article
• Fishwatch SA
  • If you find an injured fish on the beach, stay a safe distance away and do not touch it. Report the animal by calling the local fish authority, such as FISHWATCH in South Australia (1800 065 522), or a wildlife rescue hotline, as professionals are trained to handle these situations.

00:37:06 Musical Pilgrimage

In the Musical Pilgrimage, we play a deeply personal and thematically appropriate piece by Steve Davis and the Virtualosos, titled “While the Ocean Died”.

The song, which Johanna describes as an “earworm” that helps her “process what’s going on”, was inspired by Johanna’s ground-level work, leading Steve to appreciate the “cost of this whole thing”. The host reveals that songwriting is his way of thinking out loud to process complex issues. The track’s bridge reflects on the political challenge leaders face in times of crisis, where a long chain of “short-cuts and shortcomings” has left the region vulnerable to a multitude of causes—from the River Murray flood of nutrients to the sea heatwave—that have fuelled the toxic bloom. It’s a poignant, urgent piece that closes the show by connecting the human story of witnessing with the broader South Australian environmental tragedy.

Support the show: https://theadelaideshow.com.au/listen-or-download-the-podcast/adelaide-in-crowd/

See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

The red stage of the Semaphore Workers Club provides the backdrop for conversations that capture the essence of community-driven music culture. Festival director Debra Thorsen explains how she’s become a “mother” to the music scene, connecting emerging artists with opportunities that change their careers. The festival spans multiple venues across Semaphore, creating what participants describe as a “love fest” where friendships form naturally over shared musical experiences.

With no SA Drink of the Week this episode, focus remains entirely on the music and community connections that define this seaside suburb’s cultural heartbeat. Although, “Green Death” does get a mention.

The extended Musical Pilgrimage becomes an intimate exploration of songwriting craft with Don Morrison, featuring two of his compositions alongside stories of guitar-making, touring with Midnight Oil and Bo Diddley, and the creative process behind songs that capture Grand Junction Road’s gritty poetry.

You can navigate episodes using chapter markers in your podcast app. Not a fan of one segment? You can click next to jump to the next chapter in the show. We’re here to serve!

The Adelaide Show Podcast: Awarded Silver for Best Interview Podcast in Australia at the 2021 Australian Podcast Awards and named as Finalist for Best News and Current Affairs Podcast in the 2018 Australian Podcast Awards.

And please consider becoming part of our podcast by joining our Inner Circle. It’s an email list. Join it and you might get an email on a Sunday or Monday seeking question ideas, guest ideas and requests for other bits of feedback about YOUR podcast, The Adelaide Show. Email us directly and we’ll add you to the list: [email protected]

If you enjoy the show, please leave us a 5-star review in iTunes or other podcast sites, or buy some great merch from our Red Bubble store – The Adelaide Show Shop. We’d greatly appreciate it.

And please talk about us and share our episodes on social media, it really helps build our community. Oh, and here’s our index of all episode in one concise
page.

Running Sheet: Semaphore Workers Strike Up The Music

00:00:00 Intro

Introduction

00:00:00 SA Drink Of The Week

No SA Drink Of The Week this week.

00:04:24 Debra Thorsen, Don Morrison, Sally Mitchell

Our three guests take us deep into different parts of Semaphore’s musical DNA.

The Semaphore Music Festival

Debra Thorsen’s eyes light up when describing a recent moment that encapsulates her role in Adelaide’s music ecosystem. A young musician approached her at Don Morrison’s fundraising show, wrapping her in a grateful hug after she’d connected his duo with booking agent John Howell. That introduction led to their first interstate gig at the Echuca Moama Blues Festival. “He put his arms around me, gave me the biggest hug, and said, ‘we think of you like a mother,'” Thorsen recalls, her voice catching slightly at the memory.
This nurturing approach has shaped the Semaphore Music Festival‘s character over 21 years. Rather than simply booking acts, Thorsen cultivates relationships that extend far beyond single performances. The festival operates across multiple venues throughout Semaphore, creating what has been described as “the joy of going from one venue to the next with your friends and catching up with people along the way.”
Don Morrison, observing from his perspective behind the scenes, notes the festival’s uniqueness lies in its sprawling, community-integrated format. “We get to play all over Semaphore, you know, and Debra’s organising it and organising all these venues all over the place,” he explains, acknowledging the massive coordination effort required.

The Semaphore Workers Club

Sally Mitchell arrives mid-conversation, bringing with her the institutional memory of the Semaphore Workers Club‘s transformation from exclusive yacht squadron to community music hub. The venue’s journey mirrors broader social change, she explains, describing how a dying men’s club was revitalised by members who prioritised music and inclusion over tradition.
The club’s unique positioning becomes clear through Mitchell’s description of its diverse patronage. “We have people who travel here regularly from the likes of Mallala and Clare to come here for shows,” she notes, before adding the observation that captures the venue’s spirit: “People come from all walks of life, all political persuasions, all economic backgrounds, but they come here because of the music and the place that it is.”
This levelling effect extends to behaviour expectations. Steve then teases out a discussion about Geoff Goodfellow’s birthday party story, where “crooks, poets and federal court judges” mingled naturally, with a poet lighting her cigarette from a coal provided by a judge managing the barbecue. The poet’s comment, “isn’t it good to have friends in high and low places,” could serve as the club’s unofficial motto.

Musical Craft and Community Connection

Don Morrison’s relationship with songwriting emerges through discussion of the Semaphore Songs project, where local artists created works inspired by their experience of Semaphore and Port Adelaide. His contribution, “Semaphore Workers Club,” captures the venue’s character with lines like “they got cougars there by the dozen, some of them look like they might have killed their husband,” delivered with characteristic dry humour.
When pressed about his songwriting process, Morrison remains characteristically modest: “Once I’ve finished a song, I sort of look back and said, well, where does that come from? And I can’t think of it. It just flows out.” This intuitive approach extends to his guitar-making, where instruments crafted from the rubble of his father’s childhood home in Perponda and his grandmother’s cottage in Broken Hill became his primary performance guitars.
The conversation touches on broader questions about community participation in music-making. Morrison recalls the ukulele groups that flourished a decade ago, bringing together people who “had never played in a band before” but would “come along and they’d learn a song and then we’d all sing it together.” This grassroots musical participation contrasts with the professionalisation that can distance audiences from creative expression.

The October Long Weekend

Thorsen drops a significant announcement near the episode’s end: for the October long weekend festival, South Australian public transport will feature blues musicians in the front carriage of the 12:17 train from Adelaide to Glanville. This innovation, months in negotiation with the Department for Infrastructure and Transport, creates a musical journey that begins before festival-goers reach Semaphore.
The train connection resonates with both hosts’ memories of using public transport to access Semaphore’s music scene, creating a full-circle moment that links past and present community experiences.

00:48:02 Musical Pilgrimage

In the Musical Pilgrimate, we play two tracks by Don Morrison, Grand Junction Road, and Five Men In A Car.

Instruments Built from Memory

Don Morrison’s guitar-making extends far beyond craft into emotional archaeology. His most treasured instruments were constructed from materials salvaged from family homes, creating objects that carry both musical and personal history. “I didn’t really care nor expect that they would turn out to be very good guitars,” he admits, “because I just wanted to make something out of the memories.”
The irony that these memory-guitars became his primary performance instruments speaks to the intersection of sentiment and practicality in Morrison’s artistic life. With close to 500 guitars, 60 mandolins and 80 ukuleles crafted over his career, Morrison has built instruments that found their way across America, where the once-favourable exchange rate made his handmade resonator guitars accessible to blues musicians seeking alternatives to vintage Nationals.

Grand Junction Road’s Poetry

Morrison’s most-streamed song, “Grand Junction Road,” emerged from a Christmas Day observation that reveals his songwriter’s eye for finding universal themes in specific places. Walking home from family lunch, he encountered a sex worker operating on Christmas Day, which crystallised his understanding of the road’s character and the people whose lives intersect with its industrial landscape.
The song’s final verse connects personal history with broader social observation: “My father worked in a factory there just down from the prison, sometimes six days a week, but most often seven. And I wonder what he thought about all those years, he drove first thing every morning down Grand Junction Road.”

Family Music and the Raging Thirst

Morrison’s current project, Raging Thirst, brings together his sons Eddie and Jake in a configuration that demonstrates musical heredity. “They’re so good at their instruments that they wouldn’t be playing with me unless I was their dad,” Morrison jokes, characterising their involvement as “a charity move.”
The family dynamic reveals itself through natural musical communication. “We don’t even need to practice quite often,” Morrison explains, crediting their shared rhythmic sensibility to familial connection. His observation that “what they got from me was music is a human thing you can do” suggests an approach to musical education that prioritises accessibility over formal training.

Memphis Blues Challenge Ahead

Morrison’s upcoming representation of Adelaide at the Memphis International Blues Challenge places him on Beale Street alongside musicians from around the world. His preparation remains characteristically low-key, with set lists roughly planned but not overthought. The competition format includes various performance lengths, from 20-minute sets to half-hour showcases, requiring versatility in song selection and pacing.
His plan to potentially sell his handmade guitar in Memphis rather than transport it home reveals the practical mindset that underlies his artistic career, where sentiment and business considerations maintain careful balance.

Five Men in a Car

The episode concludes with Morrison’s reflection on his touring days with The Bogie, encapsulated in “Five Men in a Car.” The song captures the grinding reality of professional musicianship in the 1980s Australian circuit, where bands would “finish at the Mansfield room at four o’clock in the morning and then hop in the van to drive back down to Melbourne for a gig the next night.”
These experiences, detailed in Morrison’s autobiography “This Could Be Big: 45 Years at the Dag End of the Australian Music Industry,” provide context for understanding the difference between romantic notions of musical career and its often-unglamorous reality. Yet the song’s tone suggests fondness for those shared experiences, even when “not sure where we’re going” becomes both literal navigation and career metaphor.

Support the show: https://theadelaideshow.com.au/listen-or-download-the-podcast/adelaide-in-crowd/

See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.