On high rotation right now is New Zealand songstress Dear Time’s Waste aka Claire Duncan, who has just come out with her debut album Spells (Speak n Spell). This song in particular has become a firm favourite, thanks to its very ‘In Between Days’-esque vibe and definite similarity to my favourite Sydney band, Songs, through its distorted jangly guitars and beautiful femme vocals. A must for the summer, so stick it on your iPod and off you go.

Coming down from a holiday is always really hard to do, and I only know this now that I’m experiencing it. I spent nine weeks in Europe and neglected to update the blog in that time, mainly because of the awful little netbook I borrowed from my dad – hope you guys didn’t miss me too much, sorry for being such a slob! Now that I’m home it’s just a matter of staring at the sixteen figurines I collected from over there – one from each city – and wishing myself back. I love Sydney but there is something about the freshness of foreignness that I can never find at home, and I feel like I’m going to spend most of the rest of my life chasing that taste, that smell and feeling.

The first gig we checked out abroad was Josh Ritter at Botanique, Brussels (September 14). I first listened to good old Josh in 2007 when I was interning at Rolling Stone, so he’s always been really special to me and the fact that he would be my first overseas gig ever made him even more so. The venue was a little hard to navigate but rather pretty – an old botanical garden centre, with some plant life still around, with the Orangerie, where the gig took place, tucked neatly away in a corner. In the support slot was Ritter’s wife Dawn Landes, who lifted spirits with her upbeat folk tunes with the help of her backing band, The Hounds. Ritter himself was one of the most genuine showmen I’d ever seen – never without a smile on his face, he bounded through a set of tunes lifted mainly from his latest album So Runs The World Away, also slowing down for incredibly intimate moments starring just him and an acoustic guitar. There were also some surprises, including a perfect cover of Talking Heads’ ‘Once in a Lifetime’ – hearing a thousand people chanting “same as it ever was” was definitely one of the highlights of my entire holiday – and the finale ‘Wait For Love’, sung a cappella by Ritter, Landes and both their respective bands, all in a line with hands joined. Though there was sadly no ‘Girl in the War’ or ‘The Temptation of Adam’, this was an absolutely beautiful evening with one of music’s most underrated poets and showmen – and the set list I got afterwards made a wonderful souvenir, too.

After some problems with the ticketing bureaucrats in Munich that ended up seeing us pay double, our second gig was Grinderman at Muffathalle (October 11). Everyone in my life seems to be a Nick Cave tragic but I was never fully convinced – I can say, though, that this performance was intense. After some vocal gymnastics from opening act Anna Calvi Cave and friends took the stage and wasted no time in getting started with ‘Mickey Mouse and the Goodbye Man’, continually spitting “we sucked her, we sucked her, we sucked her dry”. Not a family friendly show by any means, but one that showed just how much influence this 53-year-old dude has had not only in Australia, but in the world – these were some of the most dedicated fans I’d ever seen, sweating and screaming along. Cave was an electric showman, barely keeping still and thrusting like someone decades younger, and though sometimes vocally he missed the mark a little (‘Palaces of Montezuma’, my favourite track from Grinderman 2, saw a little off-key vocal delivery) it was a performance too charged to really fault. Brilliant performer and a good introduction to Nick Cave live – now just to get more into the back catalogue.

Oslo was an absolute dream – without a doubt one of the best stops on the trip. The first night we were there (October 24) we went to a little jazz club called Blå, located in a dingy little alleyway with a chandelier randomly hanging overhead and graffiti covering the walls. A chandelier. In an alleyway. Only in Norway, friends! Though it took about 45 minutes to actually get in it was well worth it. Packed full of interesting characters and strung with flags of the world, it was absolutely pumping with the most passionate music and laid out a little like an open mic night, with performers getting up on stage and giving it their all – from beat boxers to tuba players and an amazing a cappella group from Iceland who set the floor on fire with their cover of Beyonce’s ‘Crazy in Love’. Due to having just arrived that night, we were exhausted and had to call it a night after about an hour in the club, but I definitely recommend this place for anyone visiting Oslo who’s the least bit interested in music and culture – it runs every Sunday night and is a wonderful introduction to the busy Norwegian music scene.

We also met up with Sjur Lyseid from The Little Hands of Asphalt – the reason I fell in love with Oslo in the first place! After a really lovely afternoon with Sjur at Revolver, one of the biggest venues for independent music in Oslo, he kindly got us into a gig called Havresekken (October 27) at Gamla, right in the middle of town. It was undoubtedly one of my most unique live music experiences ever, and one that I’m not likely to soon forget! We were given a ticket at the start of the night which we were to exchange for a scoop of oatmeal (yes, oatmeal). Each of the four bands had a jar and we were to pour the oatmeal into the jar or jars as we saw fit, and that was how the organisers figured out how to divide payment between the artists! A really clever idea, yes – but the question is, why oatmeal?! But onto the acts for the night – first up was My Little Pony (pictured), the band I was there to see. They play adorable twee indie pop with alternating boy-girl vocals, which may sound typical but still has an edge all its own, with lyrics about wanting to be Andrew Bird and that distinctive Norwegian accent present in the English vocals. Definitely a band worth checking out for fans of Belle and Sebastian, Camera Obscura etc, and a good indication of the indie scene in Norway right now.

The second artist, Javid Afsari Rad, played the traditional Persian santur, a stringed and hammered instrument that provided a real departure from the last set. It was an emotionally charged set that was mostly instrumental but also included some vocals, and for most of it the crowd was too stunned to speak. Certainly not like anything I’d heard or seen before – incredibly passionate and stylised, probably the don’t-you-dare-even-breathe moment of the night. Experiences like these are definitely worth checking out if you’re not all too familiar with world music. Check out the video below – not from the night I saw him, but great nonetheless.

Naming your band after an album by an influential metal group from your own country is an awful idea, but apparently Deathcrush doesn’t really care. The trio, with a male drummer and two female vocalists (also on guitar and bass), played an incredibly contrived brand of metal that reeked of trying far too hard. Though there was certainly skill – especially with the drummer, who hit the skins with precision – it didn’t cancel out the absurdly cringeworthy lyrics, such as “you don’t love me, you just love my doggy style” whilst both vocalists strutted around the stage, jumped off it to stroll around the crowd seductively… You get the picture. Just a really unpalatable performance all in all, and to top it off one of the singers was seen socialising with two older women who were most likely her mother and grandmother after the show. “Hey mum, what’d you think of my new lyrics?”

The final band, Centre of the Universe, was one of the most bizarre things I’d ever witnessed. Playing an eclectic set of experimental electronic, what really stood out about this group was just how absurd it all was, not musically but visually. One band member, on clarinet and keys, wore a vest covered in floppy disks – yes, floppy disks – which he would sporadically rip off and throw into the crowd. It was this strange performance art which kept the audience captivated rather than the music, or at least that’s how it worked for me – but at the end of the night their jar was pretty full, so maybe it worked out well after all. The clarinet was an interesting touch for sure, though, and one which elevated the tunes from throwaway experimentation to something a little more intriguing. So all up, Havresekken was a total hoot – four completely unrelated bands, beautiful venue and the most insane payment method ever. Oslo is really one of the best places in the world for music – it’s absolutely crazy and beautiful and full of so much passion.

Aside from live music, I was also incredibly happy to be able to visit Liverpool and check out all the Beatles stuff there. I’ll spare you the rant but it was amazing to see some of the places where those four influential men grew up and wrote some of the best songs this world has ever seen – and I kissed John Lennon outside the Cavern Club and had a flower picked for me from his childhood gardens! Best few days ever.

Nine weeks, twelve countries, sixteen cities – I am the luckiest girl in the world. It really has been difficult settling back into normal life after all of that, and I do wish I’d been able to check out more music while I was there – especially local bands – but I can’t really ask for much more than what I got. Music is just as brilliant everywhere else in the world and it was a real honour and pleasure to find that out first hand. Thank you, Europe, and see you again soon.