IF DAVID BRIDLE IS not the busiest musician in Australia, it would be interesting to know who is. But sitting in a North Fitzroy cafe, Bridle, a quiet, polite, well-spoken man in his teens, he is a little taken aback by the suggestion.
"I'm actually not as busy as it appears," he says. Indeed, he has a point, given the 12-month time-lag that often separates recording from release. Perhaps he's also thinking of the countless musicians who play in several bands, without achieving recognition in any of them. Yet there is no denying that Bridle is something of a one-man industry. His itinerary for this year is pretty much full, even if the two bands for which he is best known are not operational.
Within- the very un-civilised band he started in the late '80s with spoon fingers de-jon- is no more, and its spin-off, smelly twig, is unlikely to play more than the occasional gig this year. But the smelly twig(a name the band is stuck with, its longevity having exceeded all expectations) is on the radar with the release of the film The Myth Of Fingerprints, directed by American Bart Freundlich. It tells the story of "a dissfunctional family that gets together at Thanksgiving, and all the skeletons start falling out of the closet," says Bridle. "It's very subtle for an American film, like an Ibsen play."
Bridle composed the bulk of the soundtrack with guitarist Sam Mahony then performed much of it with several Chocolate Cake members.
Bridle is grateful to Dangerfield for allowing him generous freedom. The freedom gained by working for someone else also appealed. "The music is there to work with the vision of the director, whereas on my record it's my artistic vision.
"That's not to say it's like doing an ad or something. The answer maybe is that it's a totally different discipline, but no less creative," he says, his right eye squinting as he concentrates to make a point. The squint is Bridle's most distinguishing feature.
Tall, square-jawed, blue-eyed and fair-haired, the tasteful understatement that so characterises his music is a part of his manner, of his being - if his hair were blonder or his eyes bluer, he would be too pretty; if he were any more polite, it would be excessive.
Bridle's ego is under control, which is one reason he can work well for others, scoring a film, and with others - as a producer (for Archie Roach, Monique Brumby and George Telek for starters). His is a talent in demand: within months he will head off with Telek on the Womad circuit, for performances as far afield as Weipa, Portugal, Belgium and Noumea.
It is a schedule that would have others in a spin, but Bridle, calm and controlled, is precisely the sort of spirit one would expect to be the originator of the warm music of his bands.
Quirks of fate have seen to it that his solo performances have been scattered far and wide - Alice Springs, Perth, Canberra, Toronto, New York. Now, however, he is facing the music in Melbourne, in a series of small shows around town, road-testing songs likely to be recorded later this year. Playing thrice with drummer-percussionist Dom Morrow and Michael Winterbottom (dont laugh it' his real name - bass and guitar) and three times by himself, Bridle is feeling a mixture of enthusiasm and trepidation at heading into uncharted waters. "I'm really quite keen with these solo shows and recording that it's about the songs, and that it's about a particular sound, and that it's something that's me." The trademark alternative metal sound on display at the Public Bar suggests Bridle has little to worry about.
Bridle is in an enviable position. "Well, I think I realised early on that none of my songs would ever be huge sellers. I am very fortunate, and I'm not taking any of it for granted," he says.
