For the cool trendy blokes

While I've showcased plenty of groovy 60s chicks in this blog, I'm the first to admit that I haven't given the same kind of coverage to Melbourne's stylin' blokes of the era. But stumbling upon this priceless article from a 1968 issue of Go-Set, I figured it was high time to redress this imbalance. 

But first, a few highlights from the article, which boasts 'easy fashion ideas for the swinging blokes in the GO SET'. These ideas are based around a simple suit pattern, and the author encourages any interested chaps to con their sister, mum or girlfriend into making one or more for them.

Calico and satin are suggested as ideal fabrics, and the writer advises extra-wide legs on the trousers so 'they flap around and keep your legs cool. Of course, no socks, just sandals!' 

But the real genius moment is saved for last: adapting the shirt for the beach.

'For the beach, the same shirt; shorter, and minus sleeves. A huge pocket for fags, glasses, bottle opener and all the other things that blokes carry. This is much zappier than a T-shirt, and to be really smart, get some enterprising bird to make you a matching hat.' By Jove, I believe that's the first time I've ever come across the words 'fags', 'zappier' and 'enterprising bird' in the same paragraph!

Alternatively, a go-getting go-setting guy could always have pinched a few ideas from the following local style stars:

Melbourne's real 'cool trendy blokes' (in no particular order)

1) One of my top local fashion faves has got to be Doug Ford. I was originally dazzled by Doug when I saw him with an ad hoc incarnation of the Masters Apprentices back in 2004 - with his pointy wizard's hat, chunky pendant and long scraggly hair, he came across like some kind of defiant single-fingered salute to ageing boringly. So great. (More about that memorable gig here). 

Doug demonstrating how to do sideburns (right)

In his 60s hey day (and before the 70s got their boganoid clutches into him), Doug had the best hair, coolest sideburns and a personal style that was flamboyant without being quite as foppish as his more extroverted bandmate, Jim Keays. And all set off by that cheeky baby face. What's not to love?

Gangster chic at Catcher. Lobby Loyde looks uncharacteristically stylish too!

2) Wit and a sharp intellect will never go out of style, and Barry Humphries is living proof. Just look at him in this photo, taken in Melbourne in 1969, lounging against the lamp post like a model, rocking a killer combo of polka-dot neckerchief, raffishly tilted hat and Philip Marlowesque trench coat. Add to this his casually dangling ciggy and eyes full of knowing amusement, and we've got the embodiment of bohemian cool.

Meanwhile, his alter-ego Dame Edna remains a fashion icon to this day, with her mauve rinse and maximalist approach to all things sparkly. But check her out below, in this rare 60s go-go ensemble! I have no idea what the context is, but it's fab (albeit just a tad bizarre)!

I could do with a pair of boots like that...

3) And speaking of Humphries, I grew up believing that The Loved Ones' Gerry Humphrys was Barry's brother! It was only recently that I discovered it was Gerry himself who spread that rumour. But while there may not be a family connection, both men do share a certain je ne sais quoi... 

Gerry gives a masterclass in style

Calico and satin may be the fabrics of choice for Go-Set's fashion writer, but personally, I think velvet is a groovier choice. While we'll never know what colour the suit was that Gerry's wearing in the photo above, it's pretty obvious he wore it well, teamed with a silky shirt and psychedelic tie. I also think we're safe in assuming his ensemble probably tended towards the brighter end of the spectrum rather than sticking to 'tasteful' standards, especially if the photo below is any indication...

I love how we see the photographer's shadow too.

Wowsers, this is some back-yard happy snap! Candy-cane stripes on top of humbug stripes -- not everyone could pull that combo off, particularly with bare feet into the bargain. Needless to say, Gerry does, looking for all the world like Lord Byron's 60s lovechild. 

4) And here we have Melbourne-born character actor, Frank Thring! Possibly best known for his scene-stealing swords-and-sandals turn as Pontius Pilate in Ben Hur (and unforgettable as creepy Superintendent Cobham in Mad Dog Morgan), Frank turns up the sartorial splendour in this amazing photo. I don't know what I love more: the uber-cool shades, the white polo-neck, the dramatically upturned collar, the villainous moustache...or his theatrical pose. Timeless style.

Frank was no ham

Frank also had a recurring role on iconic 60s Aussie kids' show, Skippy, as the evil Dr Stark. To quote The Standells, "Sometimes good guys don't wear white"...and sometimes bad guys do. Once again, Frank is looking effortlessly sharp in his pristine suit and hat -- but what absolutely nails his look here is that baby koala he's cradling. Just perfect.

Let's face it, koalas improve any photo

5) Tall, blond and magnificently mod, The Purple Hearts' Mick Hadley must've cut a striking figure onstage back in the day -- even before he opened his mouth and that incredible voice came belting out. His striped jeans are less technicoloured than Gerry Humphrys' and more Pop; in fact, he's looking pretty Biff-Bang-Pow all round in the photo below. Some of today's frontmen could learn a thing or two from slick Mick.

Mick Hadley in full flight

Anyone else detect a street-fighting young Roger Daltrey vibe in the below pic? With his sullen expression, close-cropped hair and obligatory red, white and blue sweater, Mick looks ready to nut a greaser with that pick-axe (or whatever it is) he's holding. Lobby Loyde, on the other hand, resembles an amiable teddy bear clutching his tyre iron (or whatever that thing is) he's holding. (And no, tools are not my forte.)

Who gets your vote for Melbourne's sharpest-dressed 60s bloke? Obviously, they can be transplants from other cities -- just as long as there's a Melbourne connection. 

Related posts

Mystery girl: Jan Stewart

Melbourne song of the month: Chicago/Purple Hearts

Melbourne song of the month: The Loved One/The Loved Ones

Melbourne song of the month: 5:10 Man/The Masters Apprentices

Time-tripping in the 1966 Lincoln Continental that belonged to Ford Australia’s head honcho

So apparently the GM of Ford Australia in the 1960s drove a 1966 Lincoln Continental – a right-hand drive model that was hand-built shipped over from the US especially for him. There doesn't appear to be any documented evidence to support this claim – but trust me, it’s the truth. How do I know? Well, because I was a passenger in this very car over the Christmas break!

And here it is. Holy Yank tanks, Batman, would you get an eyeful of that?

Stylin'.

Check out that rectangular beastliness: if that doesn’t look 70s, I don’t know what does. But no, this rumbling road-hog is definitely from 1966. Supposedly the 60s Lincolns were a deliberate departure from the fins and chrome-plated flamboyance of the 50s models.

Can’t you just imagine this thing cruising the mean streets of Geelong all those years ago? Personally I find it a bit odd that the top dog of Ford Australia didn’t support the national product by driving a Falcon XP, but hey, when you’re the boss, you can do what you damn well please. 

Imagine parallel parking this thing!

The Continental is currently owned by a Wollongong-based motoring enthusiast named Rob (let's just say it's one of his many two- and four-wheeled vehicles). Rob bought it off an old bloke called Kevin in Bathurst, who told him that Mr Ford Australia drove it until 1968 or 1969. Then he sold it to his mate, who subsequently sold it to Kev in 1981. But because the car's history started in 1960s Gee-troit, it more than qualifies for this blog.

Effortlessly outshining the ugly modern cars in the background

So what was it like to ride in? Smooooth, baby. We were driving through downtown Albury so there was no opportunity for hooning, but the sense of coiled power just waiting to be unleashed was palpable. Rob says the fastest he’s driven it was about 110 miles an hour:
"Whilst is it still amazingly smooth at that speed (approx 170kph), you are aware that you're moving a 5.6-metre and 2.5-ton object with only 1966 combination disk (front)/drum (rear) brakes to avoid Armageddon. I lack that bravery, I must say."

Inside, it’s super-flash, with all sorts of controls and fancy details. Some of them may be commonplace today but would've seemed positively space-age back in 1966.

Dash detail

Take a deep breath and repeat after me: ashtrays and cigarette lighters for every passenger (and the driver, of course), eight-way electric seat settings, cruise control, an eight-track player (Cosmo’s Factory by CCR was our motoring soundtrack) and separate AM/FM radio (with a foot switch to change the station!), air con and power windows (including power quarter vents). If you’d asked me whether power windows even existed in 60s Australia, I would’ve said hell no.

Inside door detail 

But wait, there's more! (Minimalism clearly was not a word in Lincoln's vocabulary).
Individual interior light switches for each passenger, vacuum-operated door locks on the driver's side to lock your passengers in, a foot-operated handbrake, hazard lights, variable-speed windscreen wipers, automatic boot release from inside the car... all topped off by a gas-guzzling, 462 cubic inch (7.6L) engine that Rob admits is "obscene and quasi-unspeakable by today's standards! Fuel consumption? Of no significance in 1966!"

No wonder the Lincoln Continental was the car preferred by US Presidents (although as Rob points out, "it didn't do JFK any favours -- a roof may have helped.")

Suicidal!

It was also a hit among US mobsters, thanks to probably its most noteworthy feature: rear-hinged ‘suicide’ doors. Yep, the back doors open backwards! Rob explains that suicide doors "allowed their dames to gracefully alight from the vehicle when draped in classy evening frocks (which was pretty much all the time). This, along with the car's vacuum locks and a trunk big enough to fit three bodies made it a firm gangster favourite."

Could that be why Ford Australia didn’t introduce them into any of their locally manufactured vehicles?

Melbourne song of the month: “You’re Good for Me”/The Pink Finks (May 1966)

Before there was Daddy Cool (and well before the 80s blandness of Mondo Rock), there was The Pink Finks, Ross Wilson’s first band. Formed in 1965 when Ross was a 16-year-old school boy and Ross Hannaford was about 14 (how cute is that? Two teenage Rosses!), The Pink Finks were inspired not only by American r’n’b and blues, but also by British bands such as The Yardbirds, Stones and Pretty Things who covered that kind of music.

Five Finks: L-R Ross Hannaford, Ross Wilson, Geoff Ratz, David Cameron, Richard Franklin

The Pink Finks didn’t have a long lifespan, lasting from late 1964 to late 1966, but they managed to release four singles during this time (on three different labels) and were a popular R’n’B act around the suburban Melbourne dance hall scene. However, due to their young age, their gigs tended to be limited to weekends only. Legend has it that Ross Hannaford’s parents turned up at one show and dragged their naughty (and very underage!) son home. That’d cramp your style a bit. 

Rocking out at Festival Hall in the 1965 Hoadley Battle of the Sounds final (they didn't win: The Crickets did). Photo: Everybody's

“You’re Good for Me” was The Pink Finks’ fourth and final single, released on W&G. This scorchin’ little number, clocking in at 1 minute, 35 seconds, was written and produced by 50s rocker Johnny Chester (who’d supported The Beatles on their Aussie tour just two years earlier) and is a bonafide gem.

 
Puzzlingly, it didn’t chart and didn’t even rate a review in Go-Set magazine. Weirder yet is the fact that it hasn’t cropped up on any Aussie 60s comps that I’m aware of. Fortunately, it lives on as part of the 1980 Raven EP, “Louie Louie” and — of course— on the fathomless rock’n’roll wormhole that is Youtube. (Somehow, I suspect the original 7” is about as elusive as Tony Abbott’s humanity, but that’s another story…)

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a big fan of a short song, and “You’re Good for Me” fits that bill to a small-but-perfectly-formed T. Rollicking along at a cracking pace (but not so fast it loses its groove), it’s distinguished by Hannaford’s fluid, rockin’ guitar licks (with more than a passing nod to Chuck Berry) and Wilson’s bratty, snarling vocals. Funny to think that he’d been a wedding singer before the Finks, because he’s a damn sight more Mick Jagger than Frank Sinatra, if you know what I mean…



For those of you who’d like to know more about this shortlived but important band, check out their chapter in the ace book Wild About You. Otherwise, turn up the volume and play it again…

Think Pink. Pic: imdb.com

Related posts
Melbourne song of the month: The Loved One
Melbourne song of the month: 5:10 Man

Mystery girl: Jan Stewart

In this day and age of digital footprints and full-disclosure Facebooking, there’s little that a good Google search won’t reveal. However, as I discovered today, the worldwide web falls intriguingly short when it comes to 1960s fashion model Jan Stewart.

Jan glamming it up in some swinging ski gear. Photo: Janice Wakely

As far as I know, Jan was from Melbourne, and worked with local photographers such as Bruno Benini (profiled in an earlier blog post) and Maggie Diaz.

Reclining Jan. Photo: Maggie Diaz

With her Audrey Hepburnesque features and natural grace, she was every bit as divine as my favourite 60s model Jean Shrimpton — but clearly didn’t hit the same heights of fame, because I simply can’t find anything about her online except a few photos and an interview snippet where she recalls the staging of this fabulous shot in a Little Collins Street building site for Sportsgirl:

Frock with a view. Photo: Bruno Benini

So, unless anyone out there can tell me more about this beautiful mystery babe, we’ll just have to be content to swoon over her… Besides, as they say, a picture’s worth a thousand words.

Jan doing Jean! How Shrimpton is this? I have a postcard of this pic somewhere, from that 2011 Como House exhibition, Mannequin. Wish I could find it so I could give the photographer due credit...

Yogi Jan. Photographer also unknown.

Melbourne song of the month: '5:10 Man'/The Master's Apprentices (July 1969)

So it's already two weeks since Jim Keays left us, and I doubt I'm the only person still in shock that he's gone. He was one of Australia's great performers, imbued with the kind of star quality, irreverence and talent you don't see so often these days.

RIP Jim Keays: another legend heads off to the big jam session in the sky. Photo: Faster Louder

I was lucky enough to see an 'incarnation' of the Masters Apprentices (OK, so it was Jim Keays, Doug Ford and a bunch of boganish blow-ins) in Perth almost 10 years ago at the Hyde Park Hotel's back bar, and I had a blast. They kicked off with my favourite Masters' song, 'Undecided', and proceeded to give us a rollicking run-through of their classics interspersed with a few choice covers.

With his long hair, hippy pendant and (if memory serves me correctly, which I think it does) a hat that looked like it'd been pinched from a wizard's wardrobe, Doug Ford seemed a little - ahem - spaced out, but soon warmed up.

Jim Keays, on the other hand, was firing on all cylinders from the get go. In between belting out numbers with the energy and exuberance of a man in his 20s, he shared anecdotes about the band's past, from their early garage-punk days in Adelaide right through to the time he found himself at the urinal next to John Lennon at Apple Studios! He seemed so at ease onstage, like it was his natural habitat.

Set list from Hyde Park Hotel gig, 15 August 2004. That's Doug's autograph on the right, by the way. Jim vanished before I could get to him. Probably saw me coming, hehe...

Anyway, onto this month's song...

This video of the Masters performing their hit '5:10 Man' on the ABC program Hit Scene is a bonafide ripper. As if synchronised dancing, sexy matching outfits and wacky camera work aren't enough, we get a baby-faced (but far from innocent!) Jim singing about square worker-drone types while flirting like a pro with his TV audience. 
Part rock, part pop, all good fun, '5:10 Man' made it to number 16 on the Go-Set charts. Marking the Masters' transition to a tougher, psychy sound, the song established the band's legendary second line-up (Keays, Ford, Wheatley and Burgess) as a force to be reckoned with.

Dig that funny doo-woppy finale!

Related posts
Melbourne song of the month: 'You're Good for Me'
Melbourne song of the month: 'Chicago'

Beatlemania is alive and well...

...and Melbourne pop artist extraordinaire Gemma Jones is living proof! That's right folks, today is B-Day - half a century exactly since The Beatles first played Festival Hall - and to mark the occasion, I interviewed Gemma about her own Beatlemania, and her incredible series of paintings that capture the era's hysteric highs, Screaming Fans. 

Neither Gemma nor I were born when The Beatles toured Down Under, but read on and you'll see that the legacy of their Aussie visit lives on — in vibrant shades of orange, pink, minty green and teal — thanks to this most creative and talented of artists. (By the way, for readers who aren't familiar with Gemma's work, see the end of this post for more info. Talk about a one-woman pop-cultural sensation!) 

Gemma - aka Paintergirl - with her treasured Glenn A. Baker book and 'John' painting

Tell me about how your Beatles love affair started?
I was born into a record collection full of Beatles vinyl eight years after the Beatles 1964 tour.  My parents were really relaxed and encouraging with my brother and I flipping records and playing what ever we wanted on the stereo at a really young age (I don't know that I'd be the same) … and The Beatles were an instant favourite amongst the sixties gems. 

I still remember exactly where I was when I heard from the radio on top of the fridge that John Lennon had been shot down.  I guess I can pin point in that moment my loss of innocence. 

An influential book I've held onto since I bought it as a teenager is Glenn A Baker's The Beatles Down Under: The 1964 Australia & New Zealand Tour, which is a whole 130 pages of their crazy visit to Oz 50 years ago.  As many photos of fans as of the Fab Four themselves.

What inspired you to create the 'Screaming Fans' series, and how long did it take you to complete all the paintings?
Screaming Fans were brewing in my bird brain for a few years before they came tumbling out onto canvas. These paintings encompass a whole lot of subject matter very dear to my heart and psyche: girls, the sixties, The Beatles, popular culture and the depiction of femininity. I think the wild, weirdness of Beatlemania has always made me happy. That totally obsessive state of being is all about defying acceptable ways of being and behaving. Extreme misbehaving! It's a kind of beautiful Otherness to me, I guess.

To be honest I can't remember how long the eight paintings took to actually make — but the whole journey of conceptualising, researching and making the works was probably about six months.  

'Not a teenybopper'

Looking at the paintings as a whole, I'm struck by the power of these girls' emotions — their teen-screaming seems to transcend mere fun-loving fandom, and enter into the realm of sexual desperation or frenzy. It's quite a full-on effect, in fact ('Electric Hand' and 'Exploding Star' in particular). Were you aware of this dimension when you were painting them?
Yes!  I just love that cusp between — to be completely simplistic — happiness and sadness.  Or yeah, as you say, fun and frenzy.  Are these girls actually having a good time?  When does love and adoration turn bad?

These are not secret crushes or casual fancies — these are all-engulfing, self-indulgent, overflowing nonsensical passions!  These girls are defying the efforts of their parents, their boyfriends and the newspapers to 'understand' them.

'Electric Hand'

And also the rarity of this kind of public hysteria is great.  I guess we all know those private, behind closed-doors sobbing-letting-go moments, but for a moment like this to leak so loudly into the public domain is pretty powerful and confronting.

The fans are part of this big surge of crowd mentality, but when you look at the photos and the footage, most of these girls are totally caught up in the moment and selfishly unaware of anyone else.  Completely unselfconscious.

Yup — it's electric and it's explosive and its very own power.

'Exploding Star'

What do you think was so special about Beatlemania compared to female hysteria over, say, Frank Sinatra or Elvis?
To be honest, my own blinkered obsession with the sixties mean that I don't really know much about the fandom around either of those two.  But there isn't really anything on my radar that matches Beatlemania.

I was thinking about the kind of easy-going, out-of-a-packet fandom that happens in the age of the internet … click 'like', download the album for free, buy your concert tickets online.  I love the upfront homegrown, humanity of Beatlemania.  Sure, you could buy Beatles wigs and badges — but there was also so much handmade, heartfelt love too.  In that Glenn A Baker book, there are so many great fan drawings of the Fab Four and homemade welcome banners.  Fan mail almost broke the postal system. Fans putting genuine time and energy into expressing their PASSIONS.  It's still absolutely palpable over the ages.

'Love'

I'm making an educated guess here, but is John your favourite Beatle by any chance? And if so, why?
Hahaha, yes John is my all-time favourite Beatle.  I love that non-sucky, tough, smartness (and startarseness) that he embodied.  He was loving and cynical all at once.  He was a totally unpretentious artist   What's not to love?  

He was the true heart and head of the Beatles.  There was plenty more that George, Ringo and that other guy contributed and they are also great — but John is my number one.

'John' - NB: this painting is for sale!

 I heard a theory once that you can tell a lot about someone's personality by which Beatle they like most — do you agree? If so, what conclusions would you draw if someone told you their favourite Mop Top was George, for example?

To be honest, I'm always surprised that anyone would love another Beatle above John.  When someone says that they like Ringo better, I always assume they are just trying to be contrary for the sake of it. Or maybe they just have a thing for drummers?  I dunno. These days, I'm just happy if someone genuinely loves The Beatles, full stop.

I want people to care that much that they bother to have a favourite in 2014!

Whatever I (somewhat jokingly) think about Paul, it did make me sad when #whoissirpaulmccartney was trending on social media.

'She Loves Them'

Have you ever seen one of those Beatles tribute bands (eg. The Bootleg Beatles)? I saw one play in Perth once, and found myself screaming like a teenybopper even though they weren't that great and were wearing ill-fitting wigs. Could Beatlemania have become so entrenched in our collective consciousness that even pale imitations can provoke hysteria?
No, I've never seen a full-blown Beatles tribute band … but I love the idea that they could trigger something in our shared history (or shared hystery?!) that make you want to lose your shit spontaneously.  Could be a kind of therapy, huh?
 
If you could time travel back to Festival Hall in either 1964 to see The Beatles or 1968 to see The Who and The Small Faces, which would you choose and why? (HARD question, I know!)
A hard AND mean question.  I gotta be honest, I think the whole controversy around the 'Big Show' tour of '68 is pretty appealing … and whilst I love The Beatles for being one of my first favourite childhood bands, The Small Faces and The Who have a whole other level of teen adoration and love from me, which harks back to me first unlocking the Mysterious World of Mod.

By the way I still genuinely love Festival Hall because I like to think that the memories of all of those bands and all of those screaming fans still linger. Just as much as I like it when you have to walk across the tarmac and take the rear stairs on to an airplane. Don't tell me you don't turn around and wave and pretend that you're one of The Beatles. [ummm, nup. Never done that myself! Next time...]

'Stars in her eyes'

So, word has it you've got a new exhibition coming up. Tell us more...
My new mini-show is a small exhibition of paintings and prints under the banner 'How Am I Not Myself', which opens at Melbourne's Outré Gallery on 18 July 2014. My friend Victoria Mason (an amazing jeweller) has done a collaboration with me as part of the show too.  You're all invited! RSVP here.

Find out more 

Check out Gemma's website 
Read a review of her 'Screaming Fans' exhibition

Related posts 

Then and now: When American jet-set and Beatlemania came to town  
Holy Mop Tops, Batman! Beatlemania in Melbourne: a quiz

Melbourne song of the month: 'Chicago'/The Purple Hearts (April 1967)

Here’s a challenge for you: whack this baby on your car stereo and try to stick within the speed limit. Released in April 1967, three months after they’d broken up, The Purple Hearts’ version of “Born in Chicago” (under the abbreviated title “Chicago”) is a rip-roaring, faith-restoring joyride that leaves The Paul Butterfield Blues Band’s original pirouetting in the dust. Goddamn, I love it!

Unfortunately, I can’t find an online link to include in this post, so unless you’re lucky to own the original 7” (on Sunshine Records - anyone have a copy they want to sell me?), your best bet is the brilliant Half A Cow anthology, Benzedrine Beat.

Originally from Brisbane, The Purple Hearts relocated to swinging Melbourne in early 1966. Their second and third singles, “Early in the Morning” and “Of Hopes and Dreams and Tombstones” (killers in their own right) were recorded at the popular Armstrong’s Studio in South Melbourne, so I’m making an educated guess and assuming “Chicago” was too. 


 
The Purple Heart’s reputation as one of Melbourne’s most dynamic live bands comes across loud and clear in this recording. Frenetic but full of swaggering groove, totally unhinged but perfectly tight, its only fault is that it leaves you gagging for more after a measly 2:21 minutes. Sure, a short song is a good song, but this takes the whole ‘treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen’ ethos to another, altogether sadistic level!

Like so many Aussie bands of the 1960s, The Purple Hearts didn’t write their own material, opting instead to cover the r’n’b and blues classics they dug so much. But their creative take on these tracks ensured they ended up with a totally different beast at the end of the process. 

“Chicago” is way tougher-sounding than the original; faster and wilder. Swinging between a soulful falsetto and a deep throaty growl, Mick Hadley’s vocals are impassioned (to say the least) and his harmonica brutal; Lobby Loyde’s guitar, meanwhile, prowls around in the background like a tiger waiting to pounce – which it eventually does, in a lead break so freakin’ cool it hurts. Meanwhile, the turbo-charged rhythm section of Tony Cahill, Rob Dames and Fred Pickard doesn’t let up for a millisecond. If this isn’t a band at the peak of its powers, I don’t know what is.

Here’s the band playing it at a reunion gig in 2006 (I was there! Great gig, so much love in the room – I even managed to give Lobby a hug afterwards). It’s not quite the original line-up, but it’s still got that joyous energy….“Lobby, give it to me!”

RIP Lobby Loyde and Mick Hadley 

Related post:
Melbourne song of the month: 'The Real Thing'/Russell Morris

Dreaming of Denise

Last night I dreamed I was in a band with Denise Drysdale. I was on drums, which I didn’t know how to play (and don’t in real life, either), and she was on guitar. Not only did Denise have some serious guitar chops, but she somehow managed to go-go dance while she played. Needless to say, I felt extremely inadequate in the dream, a feeling that was magnified when I couldn’t decide what to wear for a big gig we were playing, and got so caught up in my wardrobe dramas that I was late for the show. By the time I arrived, Denise had replaced me with one of my work colleagues.

How shallow is my subconscious? Wait: don’t answer that.

Anyway, Denise Drysdale is a Melbourne icon, and a more-than-worthy subject for this blog. Australia’s first and most famous go-go dancer, she’s had an illustrious career over the decades: releasing singles, entertaining the troops in Vietnam, appearing in theatrical productions and becoming one of the country’s most beloved, multi-Logie winning TV personalities. 

 
Moorabbin-born and Port Melbourne-raised, Denise started dancing very young. Her parents were publicans and, not wanting to expose her infant daughter to the no-holds-barred barbarity of the six o’clock swill, Mrs Drysdale sent her off to early evening dance classes. By the age of six, young Denise was winning competitions — and by 17, she was a go-go gal on ATV-0’s Kommotion.

Shaking it like a Polaroid picture

One thing led to another, and she was invited to tour with Ray Brown and the Whispers; after that she scored a recording contract (which included a winsome cover of Fontella Bass’s “Rescue Me”) and went on to perform on 26 episodes of the Bobbie and Laurie-hosted teen show, Dig We Must.

In between all this, Denise ran classes for aspiring go-go gals. The video below shows her in action:



You gotta love her instructions: 
Now relax your back and flop your head around. People aren’t going to look at anything else but your head. They don’t want to see your feet dancing, they want to see your head. And smile, whatever you do.

Yep, they're just looking at your face, Ding Dong!

It was Ernie Sigley who gave Denise her nickname ‘Ding Dong’, when she was his barrel girl on The Ernie Sigley Show during the 1970s. Their working relationship has endured til the current day, and they sometimes tour the club circuit together.

Other TV shows she appeared over the years on have included Hey, Hey It’s Saturday, The Norman Gunston Show, Young Talent Time, Division Four, Bellbird, Melbourne Today and, more recently, The Circle. She even had her own show, Denise, for awhile in the late 90s. Not too many TV personalities can claim a career spanning more than half a century — but then, very few TV personalities can come close to matching Ding Dong’s charm, humour, sense of fun and entertainment value. 

The original raven-haired beauty

And hell, if I’m going to have neurotic dreams about famous Melburnians, I could do a lot worse than Denise… 

Related post:
The Go!! Show: they don't make 'em like that anymore...

Then and now: Tram Town!

And now for something completely different: the memories — and amazing photos — of an ex-tram-driver. As someone who’s regularly heard bad-mouthing her local tram in no uncertain terms (96, I hate you!), this has been quite a revelation.

Peter Bruce started with the Melbourne and Metropolitan Tramways Board in 1966, and worked for them until 1977. A railway enthusiast since he was a toddler, his interest in trams started with the job. He also happened to be handy with a camera, which resulted in photos like this:

St Kilda Road, c. 1968. Photo: Peter Bruce

This photo is both familiar and strange. In the foreground, we see the number 8 tram to Toorak, still going strong today. (Peter tells me the number 4 behind it has since become the 67 service.) The iconic Flinders Street Station dome is hard to miss, and the spire of St Paul’s Cathedral dominates the horizon.

In the distance, the former Carlton and United Breweries site is just visible, with its rooftop logo and a ghostly ‘Victoria Bitter’ sign beneath it. ‘The Wales’ (Bank of NSW) is now Westpac (in a different building), while the Olympic Tyres sign twinkling coquettishly in the centre of the image also appears in the Angus O’Callaghan photo I featured in my first blog post. The Arts Centre had yet to be built (construction started in 1973), and the me Bank skyscraper is nowhere to be seen.

Peter explains another big difference between then and now: “City Road, which now passes underneath St Kilda Road, crossed on the level then. You can see distant traffic there in this shot.” And speaking of traffic, check out all the cool cars: a Mini, the front right corner of a Holden, a few Beetles, just to name a few.

Flash forward to 2014, and this is what you get:

Try as I might, I couldn't get both the Flinders St station dome and the Cathedral spire to show.

Peak hour squeeze

Hands up who finds the peak-hour tram-crush hard to endure? Rest assured, you’re not the first. Says Peter, trams “could be very crowded especially in the am and pm peaks and the connies [conductors] had to work hard to collect all the fares and keep the car (tram, but trammies always referred to them as cars) as close to time as possible. That required close co-operation between driver and conductor.” Beats Myki’s uncooperative attitude, I reckon.

Clarendon St & Albert Rd, c. 1968. Photo: Peter Bruce

The photo above shows the number 12 — “the equivalent of today’s 112 which runs from the corner of Fitzroy and Park Streets, St Kilda to St. Vincent’s Plaza.” This is what it looks like now:

To take this photo, I had to brave a tsunami of 4WDs and luxury sedans flooding out of Albert Park (what is it about so-called ‘sporty’ people and their SUVs?). While the gate, tree and house to the left remain, the pub and dry-cleaner to the right are no longer there.

Breakdown shakedown

Asked about whether trams broke down very often back in the 60s and 70s, Peter says, “The old trams didn’t break down very often and we’d always try to limp along so as not to delay the rest of the service.” (so what happened, Metlink?)

But he’s pretty diplomatic about how today’s trams stack up in comparison. “Trammies then were expected to use initiative to prevent avoidable delays; today they are not allowed to. Risk management is necessary but it has become an industry and thus has to continually justify its existence by finding more risks.”

Park Street at Kingsway, South Melbourne, c. 1968. Photo: Peter Bruce

There’s the number 4 again, at an intersection that’s completely unrecognisable today, Park Street and Kingsway. The 67 no longer takes that route, but then, I doubt you can get Voca dictation machines anymore either, if the photo below is any indication...

Believe it or not, this is the Park Street-Kingsway intersection today

Fairweather friends

One of my pet tram peeves is how they immediately go haywire when the weather changes. Peter recalls them being a bit hardier back in the day: “The weather, rain that is, had to be pretty heavy and sustained to badly affect the service, basically there had to be about 200mm flooding over the tracks.”

Number 11 at Park and Heather Streets, South Melbourne, c. 1968. Photo: Peter Bruce

“Number 11 was not a passenger-carrying tram. It was what was called a Scrubber Car and it existed to clean the head of the rail. The service at this intersection is the same today, route 1, South Melbourne Beach-East Coburg.”
 

  
As the photo above so hideously demonstrates, Park Street is no longer a swoonfest of EHs, Cortinas, original Mini wagons, EJs and other automotive gems. The milk bar advertising Craven Filter ciggies on the corner now appears to be vacant, if not downright derelict (that’s it with the graffitied wall), and a roundabout has since been built to moderate the traffic flow (interestingly, Peter recalls that “motor traffic in those days was much lighter but much less disciplined!”)

One thing that’s much the same is the towering council flat high-rise up the top of Park Street.

The television effect

Perhaps the most fascinating difference between then and now is the impact of television on peoples’ lifestyles (and their tram-going habits). Whereas the majority of PT passengers these days sit there glued to their mobile device, back then, people had to wait til they got home for their entertainment fix — the goggle box.

As Peter explains: “After about 8.00 or 8.30pm, the trams didn’t carry many people and that has to do with popular culture, TV. Most of the suburban picture theatres had closed down shortly after the advent of TV in 1956-57 and most people were glued to the box after they got home from work.”
 
Well, with shows like Go!! to be had, who could blame them?

A note about Peter’s photography:
“In 1968 I bought a Pentax Spotmatic which was a camera and lens system which enabled enthusiastic amateurs to buy a great camera at a reasonably affordable price. Most of the Japanese optical companies made very good cameras in this price range. I nearly always took black and white photos as I had my own darkroom.”

By the way, any trainspotters out there might like Peter's blog, I Was a Teenage Railfan, while tram-nuts will dig his online photo gallery here.

Related post: 
Then and now