John Butler’s return to Blues at Bridgetown festival will be a full circle moment

Looking back at his early days busking on the streets in Bridgetown as a one-off gig 30 years ago, John Butler has said returning as a solo act for this year’s Blues at Bridgetown festival was a full-circle moment. Three decades on from his first performance at the festival, Butler has been waiting for the right time to return. And this year, he feels the time is right. Partly, that is because he has been working again back in his old stamping ground, throughout the South West, from Pinjarra to Bridgetown, through Manjimup and Nannup to Margaret River. Moving to Australia as a young boy from the US, the South West has become his home — musically, culturally and familiarly. The “chill” South West community has also kept him humble throughout his international success with his former band John Butler Trio. “The South West is hugely significant for me culturally and as far as my family,” Butler told the Times. “No one is better than anyone else (in the South West), no matter how popular you are or how good you may think you are — and I appreciate that. “If you go to the pub in Bridgetown or Pinjarra, and you walk in, and I don’t know anyone, from John Butler to John Farnham . . . they’re going to be like ‘is this guy gonna be a tosser or he going to be f...... cool?’ ‘Is he gonna walk around like he’s king s..., or is he gonna be like mellow and humble?’” Now in the thick a new creative season, Butler has been working in his Margaret River studio to bring a four-album collection to life. He released the first, titled Running River, in May, with the other three set for release within a year. “That feels good after five years of trying to make one album — and failing,” Butler told the Times. Lost in the area between fear and intuition, Butler said “sometimes you have to push through” and “suck it up” but struggling to complete to album he had in mind was one of those times he felt he wasn’t moving in the right direction. Throwing his hands up in a “little tanty”, he chose to pull back and allow space into his creative process. Then, the idea dropped for what to do next. “That’s where as far as science and faith heed each other,” Butler said. “The pulling away is scary because there’s nothing there — no answers to make that thing’better, and that’s where faith comes in. “Music and art, your passions, whatever they are, they’re vehicles to meet yourself — it’s also an extremely beautiful spiritual process of meeting your maker through your art. “It is wild brumbies, it is wilderness, it is divinity, it whatever you call God, coming through you as an instrument when it’s done well — and it’s not always done well by me.” While he doesn’t often listen to his own music, he does play Running River in the background of his life while exercising, meditating or writing. Dialling back on the number of tracks he would normally put on an album, and creating a calming trance — a contrast to some of his earlier works — the album series symbolises the four seasons of his life. “I was touring the world 10 months of the year, I had two kids under four years old (and) we’re travelling around the world together with cloth nappies — it was f...... intense. It was awesome, but it was full-on,” Butler reflected. “I love it, but like you do it for 30 years and it takes a toll. That happens with our line of work after 30 years of being on stage literally ripping my ribcage open and standing naked before people I don’t know . . . like it fries you out.” Butler told the Times while his early busking days were fun, he was also “scared” of whether he was “good enough”, leading to a more than 15 year tussle with anxiety. “It probably took 15 years to realise — I was just thinking the world was kind of distorted, and it was the world’s fault, and it was other people’s fault,” he reflected. “I would be moody and grumpy because that’s what happens when I’m anxious. “You think anger is your kind of energy and it actually makes you less strong — your anger. Whether it’s your anger at society, or governments, or yourself, or your dad, or whatever it is. “I’m not saying it’s all me, obviously everybody plays their own part in the human drama, but I could have probably done a little less damage knowing myself a bit better.” Butler told the Times a spontaneous dance with his wife Danielle Caruana had helped to change his perception on anxiety. “I remember the moment— I used to always get nervous and anxious before leaving on tour,” he said. “I was having a f...... moment about to leave the next day and my wife put on an Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong album, which is our favourite album to dance too. She grabbed me and we started dancing — and I just started crying, f...... bawling my eyes out. “I was like ‘oh, I’m actually upset because I’m leaving, not because the house is dirty, or because people don’t respect me, or whatever thing I was making up,’ but that’s how my anxiety presented — like a complete p...... “What I needed was a hug. The irony is so sad that what you need is a hug, but your behaviour pushes everybody away. Butler said his loved ones had never been afraid to call out his behaviour. “It’s always really important to surround yourself with people who don’t always agree with you and that challenge you,” he said. “They might admire your talents, and your drive, but they’re still gonna call you out if you’ve been in a p.....” Keen to get back on stage despite the challenges, Butler said some things will never change. “I’m still as a totally obsessive compulsive nut for music and guitar,” he said. “I still make the same ugly facial expressions that I did when I play guitar solo. That hasn’t changed. And I still ramble on a bit, and I’m still a little bit crazy. “But what you see is what you get, I wear my heart on my sleeve. And those things kind of haven’t changed as much as sometimes I’ve wanted to change them. “At least, whether you agree with me or not, you know that I believe in it, and I’m not bulls....... you. It may not be what your jam is, but you know I’m not trying to sell you anything or take advantage of you. “I’m just being me.”