J’accuse an entire nation of musical crimes. Yes, this
is you Australia in the dock. In your attempts to prove you have cultural
leanings you forced upon us Kylie, Dannii, Guy Sebastian, The Bee Gees, The
Wiggles, The Seekers, Powderfinger, Peter Andre, Jessica Mauboy, Rose Tattoo,
Tina Arena, Olivia Newton-John, John Farnham, Cold Chisel, Delta Goodrem (okay,
okay, we’ve got the point, get on with the bloody article – Ed).
So, in no particular order, here’s a list of ten acts
from Oz that are more than bearable.
The Go-Betweens: A band in cahoots with the
back catalogues of both the Velvet Underground and The Monkees were on a hiding
to nothing in the 80s. Yet the Go-Betweens, formed in Brisbane in 1977 around
the nucleus of arts students Robert Forster and Grant McLennan, garner little
more than a cult appreciation. Up to 1989 the Go-Betweens released six albums, most
of which were lavishly praised, but none of which sold. Though revered by
critics and fellow musicians, the band remains an acquired taste. They are
filed away in the what-could-have-been cabinet. I have a compilation album from
the 90s, a glorious double-album that filled me with both joy and melancholy.
But mostly joy. They are perhaps a mood band and I haven’t found the right mood
to listen to them again in a long time. That day will come however.
 |
| Bad Seeds |
Nick Cave and the
Bad Seeds: Born out of the ashes of the Birthday Party (see
below), Cave and his merry men set forth on a career built on death ballads, rock’n’roll, gloom, happiness, and more gloom. They soon became the
goths it is acceptable to like. If such a thing is possible. Undoubted
highlights are Abattior Blues/The Lyres of Orpheus, a double album released in
2004 that is one half rock-blues ideal for the bad side of your character, the
other half a more sedate affair with a theatrical flair; and Dig !!! Lazarus
Dig !!! released in 2008, was about as scuzzy as Cave and his mob would ever
get.
Tame Impala: Like The
The and Aztec Camera, this Perth act is really a one-man band, centred around
one Kevin Parker. Tame Impala embody the sound of The Beatles, Syd-era Pink
Floyd, and The Flaming Lips. In 2010 they released the excellent neo-psych
album, Innerspeaker, setting the controls for the heart of Sgt. Pepper. The
follow-up, 2012’s Lonerism was better arranged, but like many acts that produce
a corker of a debut, the second lacks a certain edge. It sounded contrived, but
was nevertheless more of a commercial success. Parker has since released Currents (2015) and is no doubt feverishly
working on another collection of psych-drone-pop.
Yothu Yindi: Perhaps this is
the most important band of them all. A mixed race band from the Northern
Territory which played traditional instruments like the yidaki and bilma, and proudly displayed their aboriginal
cultural identity. ‘Treaty’ is the band's most recognised hit. It was written after Prime Minister Bob
Hawke had pledged to recognise Indigenous Australians. Yothu Yindi toured the
United States with Midnight Oil in the late 1980s, which would have made for a
curious evening.
 |
| Radio Birdman |
Radio Birdman: Borderline entry
perhaps but included because they were the first real punk band in Oz alongside
The Saints. The Sydney six-piece formed in 1974 when Stooges and MC5 fanatic Deniz
Tek relocated from the States. The police would regularly shut down their gigs
because of the noise or raucous behaviour of their fans. The early days
featured performance art at the gigs, including poetry readings of pieces by
Jim Morrison and the Last Poets. That ended when frontman Rob Younger scooped
offal from a skull and spat it into the audience. They produced one of the first punk records – the
Burn My Eye EP in October 1976, but only released one album*, Radios Appear.
The Saints: Formed
about the same time as Radio Birdman, The Saints beat their rivals to a debut
release by a month with the incendiary ‘(I’m) Stranded/ No Time’ on their own
Fatal Records label when no other labels wanted to know. Their brand of high
octane punk/rock'n'roll first got them a recording deal with EMI Harvest in the
UK. The band described themselves as being ".. a punk group before it was
fashionable", and their music seemed in tune with the (then) current British
punk scene. The problem was that The
Saints didn’t put a great deal of emphasis on their image, when punk was an image as much as a sound and an
attitude. Comparisons to AC/DC probably didn’t help. Retrospectives are more
favourable. In the year of punk, The Saints released the sizzling ‘This Perfect
Day’, the Know Your Product EP and the brilliant (I’m) Stranded LP. They were
fucking immense.
The Birthday Party:
Born out of The Boys Next Door - a poor excuse for a Melbourne punk band
in reality - The
Birthday Party were a challenging act, one that people either loathed or wet
their pants over. It was rock’n’roll at its edgiest and most unhinged; like the
band itself, perhaps. Two albums were recorded for that home of weird bastards,
4AD: Prayers On Fire (1981)
and, Junkyard (1982). This
was uncompromising music, with Nick Cave ranting and raging about lost souls
and the grotesque characters who infested his imagination.
The Thought
Criminals: I knew nothing of this lot till I entered an Adelaide
record store a few years back and asked for “something punky and new wavy” and
was directed by the owner to a few CDs, one of which was the Peace Love and Under
Surveillance EP, released in 2007. They didn’t sound new though and I later
discovered they were one of many punk bands that formed in 1977 - in Sydney - but doing well to last till 1981. The Thought Criminals took their name from George Orwell’s novel
Nineteen Eighty-Four and based some
of their songs on the ideals from the book. There were also songs called ‘Hilton
Bomber’, ‘I Won’t Pay (For Punk Records)’, and ‘Fuck The Neighbours’. Jangly
guitars rather than full on distortion and drums that didn’t puncture the ear,
and a sort-of manifesto: “Don’t want no top ten hit/ Don’t want no disco shit/
Just wanna have fun”.
 |
| Midnight Oil |
Midnight Oil: Formed,
like, forever ago (ie mid-70s) the Oils are a national institution and figures
of hate in almost equal measure. While musically their straight-down-the-line-rock’n’roll
is hardly earth-shattering we include them for their hard-hitting attitude and
defence of the vulnerable. For example, Indigenous Australians on the universal
hit ‘Beds Are Burning’. Too many albums since 1978 to detail, and they remain a
live circuit favourite, reforming last year for a world tour that included a
couple of dates in Newzild.
The Triffids: There
were few Velvets/ Stooges/ Eno fans in Perth in the late 70s, and the select few
of them ended up in the Triffids. Breaking Australia is a mission in itself with
days spent travelling to gigs, but the Triffids built up quite a following. Attempting
to replicate that modest success in Europe proved tough, however. “Even the ballads were confrontational”,
recalls singer David McComb. A string of low-key, lo-fi releases, some only on
cassette, came before a trilogy of fey, and magnificently lovelorn albums
arrived in the shape of Born Sandy Devotional (1986), Calenture (1988), and The
Black Swan (1989). I have two of them, one bought from an op shop in St Andrews
for the price of a bag of lollies.
The Laughing Clowns:
After The
Saints’ demise, the band’s guitarist Ed Kuepper formed The Laughing Clowns
which strayed a rather different path, integrating jazz influences into their
unique take on post-punk. The Clowns released several records between 1980 and
1985, with their debut, a self-titled, six-song EP on Aussie independent
Missing Link. In 1982, they moved to London, where they recorded their debut
LP, Mr. Uddich Schmuddich Goes to Town. The Law of Nature was released in 1984, and the band's final studio LP, Ghosts of an Ideal Wife, came out in 1985. And
then the laughing stopped.
 |
| Everything's A Thread |
The John Steel
Singers: A six-piece from Brisbane for whom the word obscure
was invented for. I know only of them from the illuminating album cover I
spotted at Wellington Central Library and took out on the basis of that.
Sometimes you can judge an album by its cover and Everything’s A Thread (2013)
was incredibly illuminating. They sound like ... ummm ... a bit like ... well
... ah, just go on Bandcamp. Oh, and there is no John Steel.
Severed Heads: Minimal
electronic and synthpop are among the terms bandied about to describe Severed
Heads but neither are entirely appropriate. Essentially the life project of
sole core member, Tom Ellard, Severed Heads is not a band but more a
representation of what a truly creative life can be. Ellard showed touches of
self-flagellation when in 1985 they were signed to a major label and flown to
the UK for some gigs that were expected to open doors. As The Quietus explains,
it didn’t quite go to plan ... “A
crowd gathered expecting to hear dance-floor friendly synth pop, and instead
Ellard and co treated them to a 30-minute ambient trance piece. The reception
was mixed, to say the least.”
Yes, I know there’s 13, I got carried away.
Also recommended: You Am I, The Church, The Drones,
The Scientists, The Primitive Calculators, The Vines, Machine Gun Fellatio, The
Hoodoo Gurus, Paul Kelly …
(* I fear Porky has forgotten about a second Radio Birdman album, Living Eyes, which was recorded prior to the band breaking up in 1978, but not released until 1981. There may have been a completely unheralded post-millennium album also - Ed).
By 1985, and the
rather belated release of the Sisters of Mercy debut album, First And Last And
Always, the band had already established its reputation, alongside the equally
influential likes of Bauhaus and the Jesus And Mary Chain, as forefathers of
the still fairly embryonic goth-rock genre. 
