Before even hearing the song “Dandelion Flower” I already felt an affinity with it. I have a dandelion tattoo that blows up my ribcage. Since I’m spontaneous and a general gypsy, I am often associated and accused of “just blowing in the wind.” A dandelion flower describes me.
I can always find a connection to music that’s precious and personal, but there aren’t many artists that I consider to tell my story. Yes, at times I’ve accused Alanis Morissette of spying on me and singing songs specifically about my life. Sure, Alexi Murdoch hits me in the heart with his intimate expressions. I may have personal jokes with Joni Mitchell, feel like I share a secret with Susanna and the Magical Orchestra about their song “Believer,” but other than The Donnas I don’t know anyone that describes my adolescence so appropriately. In the Christopher Coleman Collective, I have found a new friend.
From Fern Tree, Tasmania, Australia, Christopher Coleman – Singer/Songwriter/Guitars/Piano, Jonno Coleman – Guitar/Vocals, Jesse Munnings – Bass Guitar, Michael Panton – Lead Guitar, Sam Stansall – Acoustic Guitar/Vocals, and Sam Forsyth – Percussion don’t just sing songs, they tell stories. Picking from their past, they make music that blooms with introspection and insight. It’s honest and authentic. It has a folk feel, and it’s even funny: “I stole the food from a Japanese florist…then drank all of her wine, and then I walked out backwards, therefor it never happened,” are a little bit of the lyrics from “Dandelion Flower.”
Their songs even seem to be self-evident, as “Sweet, Sweet Melody Part 1 and 2” directly describes how I feel about them. They muse over mishaps, are adventurous and applicable. You can promptly see a performance by the Christopher Coleman Collective November 24th at the Tasmanian International Beer Fest in Hobart. A three track EP entitled “Burnt Black Wood” will be released on December 1st at Fair @ Square in Federation Square in Melbourne. That doesn’t even nip the bud of what’s next in the new year.
Dandelions, among many meanings, are made for well wishing. You brainstorm before blowing your belief off with the wind. You send your secret away with the seeds to find fruition. When it comes to good music, the Christopher Coleman Collective is a wish come true.