Mark Fitzgerald

Having spent many of my early years on a farm in country Victoria, it became clear to me as a teenager that my life was going to be either music or sports.  Given that I'm not one for beating up guys on the football field, making that decision was easy. 

Drums weren't my first choice.  When I was 15 I asked my folks if I could learn a musical instrument, specifically the Saxophone.  Mum refused on the basis that it was “too loud and annoying” (i-r-o-n-y).  She agreed to the drums with the provision that I never own a kit and only play the school's.  Once I started lessons that condition didn't hold up for long.
My first live performace was at 16 and we sucked.  A small repertoir consisting mainly of Metallica covers was poorly performed to a politely approving audience.  Thankfully, as time went on I improved and so did my choice of bands. 

A short stint in a cover band playing at colleges and bad night spots convinced me that original bands were more my thing.

At 20 I joined a punk band, which opened my eyes to many things but then kind of half closed them again as the affects of passive marijuana smoking slowly coaxed my addiction to band rehearsals in the singer's small garage.  When I realised the ratio of bong hits to song plays I quit the band and as far as I know it fell apart after that.   Don't do drugs.

My next step was to an already gigging rock band with two charismatic frontmen and a chick bassist.  Finally I felt I belonged somewhere.  The songs were great and the dynamic of the band worked well.  Two years passed before we threw in the towel.

Then I joined Kanvas Grey.  The rest you know.