I read an article by PJ O’Rourke recently, called ‘Keeping the 60s on life support’, in which he ponders the reluctance of Baby Boomers to let the 1960s go, get over them, and stop glorifying them as some kind of historical high point. While he claims to be as guilty of this as the rest of his peers, PJ’s realisation that his teenage daughter and her friends barely knew (or cared) who JFK was prompted him to reflect on his generation’s tendency to mythologise the era. Were the 60s really as great/important/world-changing as all that?
As a Gen Xer, I have to admit it bugs me to hear Baby Boomers gushing on about how the decade was so freakin’ fantastic. Check out any documentary or book on the subject, and there they’ll be: smugly recounting all the great bands they saw, the drugs they took, the fab clothes they wore, the freedom they had and the unbridled optimism they felt back in this golden heyday.
Why does it bug me? Because I’m envious of them!
Ever since I since I watched reruns of Batman and The Monkees as a child ― since I saw how cool my parents looked in their wedding photos ― since my adolescent crush on Little Stevie ― I’ve been fascinated by and drawn to the 1960s. Whether they’re the most important decade of last century, I’m not qualified to judge. But they were definitely the grooviest.
This blog is my attempt to experience the 60s vicariously by exploring what was shaking in Melbourne at the time ― musically, culturally, sartorially ― and who was making it shake. Then (as now) Melbourne was way ahead of the pack and totally where it was at. Puzzled by the blog’s name? Check out my profile.
Were you there? I’d love to hear from you! Your memories, your suggestions, your corrections, your photos. As this blog progresses, I hope to include personal anecdotes from people who were lucky enough to enjoy the decade firsthand.
In the meantime, whether you’re a Baby Boomer or not, please join me on this time-trippin’, wig-flippin’ voyage into Melbourne’s groovy past…
NB: Background photo - View of Bourke Street at Dusk, Looking East, Melbourne, 1960s, taken by Mr Frank Park (Museum Victoria)
As a Gen Xer, I have to admit it bugs me to hear Baby Boomers gushing on about how the decade was so freakin’ fantastic. Check out any documentary or book on the subject, and there they’ll be: smugly recounting all the great bands they saw, the drugs they took, the fab clothes they wore, the freedom they had and the unbridled optimism they felt back in this golden heyday.
Why does it bug me? Because I’m envious of them!
Ever since I since I watched reruns of Batman and The Monkees as a child ― since I saw how cool my parents looked in their wedding photos ― since my adolescent crush on Little Stevie ― I’ve been fascinated by and drawn to the 1960s. Whether they’re the most important decade of last century, I’m not qualified to judge. But they were definitely the grooviest.
This blog is my attempt to experience the 60s vicariously by exploring what was shaking in Melbourne at the time ― musically, culturally, sartorially ― and who was making it shake. Then (as now) Melbourne was way ahead of the pack and totally where it was at. Puzzled by the blog’s name? Check out my profile.
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| Image" 'Under the Clocks'/Angus O'Callaghan |
In the meantime, whether you’re a Baby Boomer or not, please join me on this time-trippin’, wig-flippin’ voyage into Melbourne’s groovy past…
NB: Background photo - View of Bourke Street at Dusk, Looking East, Melbourne, 1960s, taken by Mr Frank Park (Museum Victoria)
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