Remembering Tim Hemensley

As the fourth anniversary of Tim's death approaches, it felt like an appropriate time to post some thoughts.
I met Tim when we were both quite young- I was about 18, he was about 11. I already knew who he was- the local papers delighted in carrying stories about the "primary school punk" antics of his first band, Royal Flush. For whatever reason, we didn't get on too well at first, but by the time GOD were up and running we were firm friends.
He had a complicated and busy life, usually based around music, girls and partying, and would occassionally drop by my East Melbourne flat late at night, for a chat, to play a new record he'd discovered ("Hermann Brood! He's like, like, the Dutch Lou Reed!") or just shoot the shit in general.
I was overseas during his time in Bored! and the Powdermonkeys, and bitterly regret never getting to see him play live with either of them.

There are some samples of their stuff available here courtesy of John Nolan's Powdermonkeys home page. Take a minute out to listen.

The last time I saw him was the Saturday before his death. Tracey & I went to the infamous "Star Wars" bar at the Espy, to see Tim's old bandmate Joel Silbersher playing with HOSS. He seemed to know everyone in the room, and was in fine form that night, darting from conversation to conversation, drinking anyone's beer, even getting up to sing. At one slightly serious moment I pointedly asked him how he was doing- a polite way to ask about his off and on chemical dabblings- and he assured us he was fine. He looked it too. Damn, but it was fun to hang out with him.
Then on the following Wednesday, listening to RRR on my way home having just been sacked from my job, I heard the news of his death.
I don't want to talk about the funeral, or the wake.
So, he's gone, but in no way is he forgotten. There's a memorial plaque on the wall of the Tote, and the Tim Hemensley medal is awarded at the St. Kilda Community Cup each year. He was partly responsible for christening me with this nom de plume, that I still use proudly. I still find myself humming "You piece of punk rock shit, you know you look like all fuck" now and again sometimes, and I'll make a point of playing some of his stuff over the next few days, too.

And I'm sure he'll get a mention from the stage on Saturday night.