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

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

News flash!

Hola amigos!
Attentive readers may remember that I wrote an article about Melbourne's most adorable 60s one-hit wonders The Mystrys for the English music magazine Shindig! last year.

Well, my latest article for the mag may be of interest to some of you too - it's a career retrospective of The Bo-Weevils, possibly the wildest 60s throwback band to come out of the great garage revival that flourished in Melbourne during the mid-1980s.

It's in issue #52, which came out a little while ago but is probably only now filtering into newsagents beyond Old Blighty. Look for The Zombies on the cover!

Then and now: Wolfgang Sievers' Collins Street

Happy holidaze, everyone! I hope your festive season has been fab so far. Santa was kind enough to bring me Angus O’Callaghan’s long-awaited opus, Melbourne, which is almost blinding in its beauty—but also quite poignant in its portrayal of an era long-since past. Let’s face it: Melbourne may still be the best city in Australia, but it ain’t what it used to be, and O’Callaghan’s book is a stunning reminder of that.

But it’s not just O’Callaghan’s photos that have this effect on me. The photography of Wolfgang Sievers—subject of today’s post—can evoke a similar sense of longing for times gone by. I wonder if there’s a psychological term to describe nostalgia for a decade you never experienced in the first place? I know I’m not the only one afflicted by the condition.

But moving right along to Mr Sievers: and specifically, his photos of Collins Street, one of the CBD's main thoroughfares which was, as we will see, extremely photogenic in its 1960s heyday.

Collins Street. Photo by Wolfgang Sievers, courtesy National Libray of Australia; vn-3334045-v

An eye for style

As mentioned elsewhere in this blog, Wolfgang Sievers was a German-born photographer who immigrated to Australia and settled in Melbourne in 1938, setting up a studio in South Yarra. After WWII broke out, he volunteered for the Australian Army – just like his countryman Henry Talbot – and served between 1942 and 1946. (Actually, the Gestapo had their sights set on him for aerial photography duties with the Luftwaffe just before he fled Europe!). 

Once back in civilian society, Sievers moved his base of operations to Grosvenor Chambers, a suite of artists’ studios at the Parliament end of Collins Street that had once housed Aussie Impressionists Charles Condor, Arthur Streeton and Tom Roberts, among other luminaries. And when he wasn’t off taking eerily epic architectural photos and pics of menacing-looking industrial machinery, Sievers was outside snapping the local streetlife. 

Photo by Wolfgang Sievers, 1964; courtesy National Library of Australia; WS 2523-Na

I love the dappled shade on the footpath, and the shop signage: particularly the neon ‘Spectacle Makers’ sign. I mean, do optometrists even call glasses ‘spectacles’ these days? And judging by the trio of women strolling together in the foreground, and the lady going into a shop behind them, white was obviously a là mode.

Here's another one taken from a similar vantage point: 

Photo by Wolfgang Sievers, 1964, courtesy National Library of Australia, vn-3353435-v

Note the partially obscured sign for ‘La Caprice’. From the little I’ve been able to uncover, La Caprice was a café, the interior of which Sievers actually photographed in 1956. Now, I know it falls outside this blog's chronological remit, but get a load of this for some schmick mid-century style: 

La Caprice. Photo by Wolfgang Sievers, 1956; copyright holder unknown. I bet they made a mean espresso.

....And here’s how that particular stretch of Collins Street looks now: spot the difference! 

No caption required.

Admittedly, my amateur photographics don’t exactly enhance the aesthetics, but honestly, can anyone tell me what the hell’s happened to women’s fashion in the last 51 years? Not to mention trends in street umbrellas. 

Meanwhile, a spot of research prompted by the following photo of the Oriental Hotel yielded some interesting history. It turns out that this hotel, once located at 17 Collins Street, was quite the local legend once upon a time....

Photo by Wolfgang Sievers, copyright holder unknown

Not only did the Oriental establish Melbourne’s first side-walk café in 1958, it was also responsible for the city's first American-style cocktail bar (whatever that means), its first steak restaurant and its first discotheque. A favourite with the sophisticated set, the Oriental’s consciously Continental style was the impetus for the top end of Collins Street becoming known as the ‘Paris end’, a label which, as we all know, endures even now.

Mind you, not all those who frequented its public spaces were frocked-up in their Friday-night finest. A group of journalists from the Herald, who liked to call themselves the ‘Morning Tea Club’, used to meet at Oriental bar at 11am every day for their morning, ahem, heart-starter. I can only imagine how lively those sessions got...

Sadly, like the historic Southern Cross hotel, the Oriental was sacrificed in the name of ‘progress’, being demolished in 1971 to make way for Collins Place. These days, you’d never even guess it’d been there….

But we don't want to end on a sad note, right? 

So here's one final, fond farewell to Collins Street as seen through Sievers' keen eyes...

Photo by Wolfgang Sievers, courtesy National Library of Australia, vn-3353472-v

Coburg never had it so good

The Thumpin’ Tum, Sebastians, Catcher, Berties, Garrison, The Biting Eye, Opus… when I read about the legendary live music venues of 1960s Melbourne and the boss-bitchin’ bands they hosted, I can’t help thinking that the city’s current claim to be some kind of live-music paradise is a tad delusional. Yeah, so we may have more venues per capita than Austin, Texas – and we’ve sure got a surplus of bands -- but how many of them (venues or bands) will be remembered in 50 years time?

But while information about most of the aforementioned venues is easily available with the most cursory of Google searches (and they’ll no doubt find their way into this blog at some point), there is one Saturday-night dance about which I simply cannot find any details, save what I posted earlier this year. Yep, we’re talking ‘Swinger’ at the Coburg City Hall: home to those bodacious Batgirls.

Go-Set, August 20 1967: the Batgirls seen around the scene (Adam West would flip his wig)

Now before you get any inappropriate ideas, let me clarify: it’s not the name of the night that's piqued my interest so much (which is a shame, really, because Google spits out plenty of search results of that nature).

What originally began as curiosity about Swinger's Batgirls has since cranked up several notches thanks to the following series of advertisements I came across in old, microfiched copies of Go-Set magazine at the State Library of Victoria when I was researching an article I was writing. They're just so evocative of the time...so eye-catching...so damn hyperbolic!

Amazing to think that wild nights like this….

From Go-Set, early August, 1967. So we can at least establish that the night started on August 12. of that year

...and this....

Go-Set, early August 1967

…were going down every Saturday evening here, in the stately surrounds of Coburg City Hall!



Of course, these days, instead of embracing the ‘Batman fantasy of gigantic sounds’ (oh how my mind is boggling!), the neighbours would complain about the noise.

Billy Thorpe & the Aztecs and the Chants? Wowsers

Northside was where it was at, baby!

Apologies for the wonky scans -- I was caught up in the fantastic mind-bending moment!

Although all the adverts featured here are from 1967, I believe Swinger lasted a good few years -- until at least 1969, when it played host to US band The Platters on one particular night, and The Easybeats on another. The Easybeats in 1969? That would have been a weird one, right at the tail-end of their career, when disillusionment and debt were dogging them, undermining all the brilliance that had gone before. 

From Go-Set, October 1967. 

From Go-Set, November 1967

Which brings me to the end of the small amount I know about Saturday nights at Swinger. By the way...anyone else agree that the two ads above look like lurid psychotronic movie posters?

The wigged-out world of The Mystrys part 2

It’s been a loooong time between posts (life has a way of getting in the way sometimes) but finally, I’m back with Part 2 of my ‘mini-series’ about the wigged-out world of Melbourne’s most enigmatic one-hit wonders, The Mystrys. 

Since writing Part 1, I’ve spoken to a punter who was actually present at one of the band’s shows in Mildura in 1966, and discovered an old article about them — plus a review of “Witch Girl” — in the legendary, long-defunct Aussie music fanzine, The Livin’ End. For a group that was around for such a short time, The Mystrys made their mark where it mattered.

NB: First you’ve seen of this? Check out Part 1 here. 

Once again, the rogue’s gallery consists of Charles Bayliss (singer/bass-player), Ziggy Zapata (lead guitarist) and Bob ‘King’ Crawford (songwriter, PR guru). Now, strap yourselves in and let’s pick up where we left off last time: The Mystrys about to set off on tour…

Kontact!

For reasons nobody seems to understand, manager Michael Kopp packed The Mystrys off on a tour of regional Victoria and South Australia before they’d played more than a handful of gigs in Melbourne. Accompanying them was all-girl band The Kontacts, whose gimmick was a male singer known as Tony Satan.

Aren't they gorgeous? The Kontacts. Photo courtesy of Ziggy Zapata

“I’m not sure how we got onto The Kontacts,” Bob reflects.  “They sort of came out of the blue – one day they were there. I only wrote two songs for them.” 

Charles fills in the gaps. “They [Kopp and his sidekick Valek] were looking for a girl band. And they saw these girls playing at a dance… As they did with us, they approached them. The whole band was excited with the concept and they took it on.”

Until then, The Kontacts had been known as The Mojettes. They’d been gigging around Melbourne for awhile and already had a following of sorts (although their lead guitarist Davida was quoted at the time saying their early popularity was “more because we were novel rather than for ability.”)

So groovy! The Mojettes. Photo courtesy of Ziggy Zapata.

She was right about one thing: girl groups were rare as rocking horse poop in 1966 Melbourne, particularly girl groups that played their own instruments. That old hustler Michael Kopp must’ve thought he was on the fast-track to fortune!

And Tony Satan? Oddly enough, that wasn’t the name his mum gave him. Rather, it was an alias created by Bob King Crawford for local singer, Nic Gazzana. How he came to join The Mystrys’ tour as The Kontacts’ front man is not entirely clear.

“I’m not sure how Nic Gazzana got into the picture with the Kontacts — I assume that either Michael Kopp or Charlie Bayliss dug him up from somewhere and asked him to front the band,” Ziggy speculates. Bob recalls that “he got on side with Kopp, and that’s why I had to come up with a name and a persona for him.” (Gazzana would later go on to a successful acting career, including a role in the original Mad Max.) 

Tantalising...exciting...terrific: just a typical tour gig. 

“It was funny,” recalls Charles. “Nic wasn’t part of our band or part of the girl band. He was a separate entity. What Kopp and Valek wanted to do was build up a stable of entertainers.”

“And we had to clean up the stable afterwards!” Bob laughs. 

On the road

By all accounts, The Mystrys were a hit with country punters. “The tour was terrific,” says Ziggy, “We worked to sell-out rooms and the audiences really loved what we did.” 

Amazing, really, when you think about some of the hairy situations encountered by bands such as Billy Thorpe & the Aztecs or The Creatures in regional Australia. Rock’n’rollers from the big smoke weren’t always warmly received, suffice it to say: their long hair and flamboyant clothes being inexplicably offensive to some sensitive rural types. 

But then, with their matching tailored suits and green velvet hoods, The Mystrys looked less like a threat to public decency and more like a bunch of well-mannered extra-terrestrials anyway! Of course, their musical ability didn’t hurt: “You have to remember that all the guys in the band were very accomplished musicians,” explains Ziggy. “I don’t want to sound arrogant but the musicianship of the Mystrys was probably better than 99% of the bands that were around at the time.”

A spine-tingling line-up indeed - although what a 'blood bubbler' is, I couldn't say...

Among the towns on their lengthy itinerary were Renmark, Shepparton and Mildura, where young music fan Ben Rogers (now a muso in Melbourne) saw them play at a venue called the Ballerina Ballroom. While his memories are sketchy after almost half a century, he recalls that they “played with attitude, had a great light show and didn’t reveal their identities.” 

What happens on tour stays on tour…or not

Charles’ memories of Renmark, on the other hand, are rather vivid, for reasons other than the music. “I remember … getting up in the morning and just standing on the balcony, looking at the lake across from our hotel. There’d be ducks on the water and mist above the lake – it was just fantastic. By this time, the bassplayer, being me, decided to crack onto the guitarist from The Kontacts, Joy. We actually got together in Renmark.” 

And fair enough! If The Mystrys’ masks made it difficult to ‘connect’ with their female fans, being on tour with an all-girl band certainly offered a way out of that dilemma.  

On the road and unmasked...Photo courtesy of Ziggy Zapata

The young sweethearts’ rock’n’roll romance took an unusual turn when they found themselves stranded in the back of beyond, near the outback military testing range at Woomera. “At the time it was a rocket site,” Charles says. “One of our Kombi vans broke down so they actually had to go to Andamooka for a mechanic and bring him back. It was going to be a whole day, stuck in the middle of the desert.” 

Hell, what’s a bunch of bored musos to do? “We were stuck there, so Joy and I decided to get married.” Ummmm – come again? “It was a fake wedding.” Well, that’s one way to pass the time in the red centre. 

As it happens, Charles and Joy did get engaged later, but never made it to a wedding. But that’s a chapter for Charles’s memoirs… 

An outback wedding party? Photo courtesy of Ziggy Zapata.

Wild times in Andamooka

In typically bizarre fashion, The Mystrys’ tour took them to the opal mining outpost of Andamooka. “We got paid in opals,” Charles recalls, “and were staying in different accommodation to what we’d been used to – it was quite unusual, like mud huts.” (Hmmm. I wonder what The Kontacts made of that?)

Not surprisingly, the Andamooka locals were a special breed. “There was a German guy by the name of Dag Johnson — he was the richest person in Andamooka. So much so that he had his own compound, his own guards with submachine guns. It was unbelievable.” Dag’s security measures were justified: he was sitting on quite a stash, as Charles and Ziggy discovered.

“He took Ziggy and I down to his bedroom: I want to show you something, he said. We thought: Uh oh. It’s a bedroom. But he opened this safe and took something out, and said, Put your hand out… he put an opal in my hand that was like a fist. I asked how much he’d get for it, and he said, I’ve got a choice: I can sell it as it is, and let’s say I get $300,000 for it. But if I split it, and it’s good, I could get double that. So he split it — and he didn’t get double for it!”

Then there was the bloke who invited Charles to stay in Andamooka and work the mine with him, sharing whatever they found. “So we went down the next day, and you literally had to lay down on your back to dig. I said, Nope I don’t think so. My bass-playing is a whole lot easier than this. Three weeks later he found an opal that was worth $270,000.”

The bubble bursts

The final stop on the South Australian leg of their tour was Adelaide. After a successful concert there, the touring party was flown back to Melbourne for a week’s break. 

“The plan was we were going to fly back to Adelaide and start again, to work up to Queensland and end up in Brisbane,” Charles says. (A rather circuitous route, considering they could’ve got to Brisvegas via the New South Wales coast and gained exposure to a whole bunch of new audiences along the way — but then, Michael Kopp moved in mysterious ways…)

“The day after we arrived in Melbourne, I went to the rehearsal studio, and Bob King Crawford was there.” After Charles filled Bob in on how the tour had been, Bob proceeded to give Charles an update of his own.

“He opened up a draw, pulled out a wad of paperwork and threw it on the desk. Do you know what that is? he asked. That’s bounced cheques from everywhere you guys have been…. from venues you’ve played at, accommodation, where you’ve eaten. There are a lot of problems.” 

Starting with the fact that Kopp and Valek had gone AWOL. 
The minute the dodgy cheques started bouncing back, they dematerialised in a vanishing act the Invisible Man would have been proud of. “They opened their account with $10 and paid for the tour out of the $10,” Bob says ruefully. “So then we get this knock on the door and the Federal Police arrive. 
Do you know Mr Smith? 
No.
James So-and-so? 
No.
They went through this list of names until they got to Michael Kopp.”

Kopp and his dastardly sidekick had left a nation-wide trail of criminal alibis and ripped-off people behind them. He was “a well-known con-man,” says Ziggy, “The Mystrys and Kontacts were duped, like all of Kopp’s other victims.” 

The band contemplating a return to their home planet. Clipping courtesy of Ziggy Zapata

Charles adds, “We were just collateral damage.”

“We believed in the concept so much; we overlooked a lot of things,” Bob reflects, whose faith in the band was so great he’d even overlooked the fact he hadn’t been paid in months. 

But now, as the unofficial ‘guardian’ of the boys, he had their parents to contend with. “I had all the parents on my doorstep, wondering where’s my child? What’s going on? I had no answers.”

Broke, disillusioned and totally knocked for six, The Mystrys saw no alternative than to call it quits. “It all fell apart really quickly,” remarks Charles. 

So quickly that his bass was repossessed before he’d had a chance to come to terms with what had happened. Prior to the tour, he’d told Kopp his bass was on hire-purchase and that he couldn’t make his repayments unless Kopp paid him. Like that was ever going to happen! Instead, “[Kopp] said, Don’t worry about that, we’ll pay it out of the money you’re going to get.” 

Michael Kopp and Gerry Valek were never seen again, and remain one of the universe’s unsolved mysteries. Speculates Charles about Kopp: “My theory is…he left the state, and then from wherever he went, he left the country. Because he was in real serious trouble; he would’ve ended up in jail for years if he’d been caught. The problem was, he was using so many fictitious names, you didn’t know who he was.”

If only….

With the benefit of almost 50 years’ hindsight and experience, Charles reckons the band could have handled the whole situation differently.

Review in The Livin' End fanzine, number 1 (Sept 1983)

“When I think about it now, I think: If I only knew then what I know now. I could’ve just taken over and done it. Bob could’ve taken over and done it. But we didn’t. The pin was pulled, we all got shell-shocked, and we all backed away from it.” 

Bob agrees: “Nothing wrong with the concept. Nothing wrong with the plan – the plan was perfect. And the musicians were perfect. Everything was perfect.”

Never the biggest fan of the concept himself, Ziggy simply reckons they “should have ripped off the masks and kept going.” 

Still, Charles is philosophical. “I wouldn’t have changed anything about it. I would’ve liked to have made money out of it but the truth of the matter is I lost money. Was it the right decision? Yeah. It was at the time. If we hadn’t done it, you and I wouldn’t be sitting here talking about it. I’m a very big believer in destiny.”

What could have been

As I mentioned in my original post about “Witch Girl”, this is one one-hit wonder that makes you wonder what might have been. 

“All those sounds Roger Savage recorded with, and all the sentiments behind it, the video – it was all stuff that hadn’t been done before. The problem was, the reason it wasn’t bigger than it was, was because it was probably 15 years before its time.” Charles reflects.

“It could work again,” Bob suggests.

Practising their comedy routine: Bob and Charles today

“I’d love to release it today, I really would,” Charles says. “I think it should be reworked but not far away from what it is because all the background of that particular record is so close to what we’ve got today. It maybe doesn’t fit into the mainstream trend but it certainly fits in, just because it’s got a lot of gimmicky sounds behind it.”

Personally, I don’t think it should be touched. How do you improve on perfection, after all? Even with all its wigged-out sound-effects, “Witch Girl” is anything but a disposable gimmick record — it’s got soul, spirit, energy! Which is more than can be said of most of today’s popular music. But with original copies of the single now fetching well over $300, it’d be sensational if someone would reissue it at least. Bob King Crawford doesn’t even have a copy, and he wrote the damn thing.

Life after The Mystrys

Following the demise of The Mystrys, all involved went their separate ways. 

Despite his phenomenal talent as a bass-player and singer, Charles was so burnt by the experience he withdrew from the music scene for a few years. Eventually, he started playing again and became a sought-after performer around Melbourne… until he discovered martial arts and took that up fulltime. He’s now a big-wig in the city’s karate scene, teaching and practising it, and showing no sign of slowing down at the age of 71. “People say why do you work so hard? And I say wash your mouth out!” he scoffs. “I see guys ten-15 years younger than me where I live, and they just walk down to the local strip shops and sit on a bench, crapping on to each other and they look 90.” (Charles looks like he’s in his 50s!) 

Ziggy these days. Pic from his website

And Ziggy? “I played around the Melbourne traps for a while, did some session work, then formed a concert act called Joe and Ziggy with Melbourne guitarist Joe Paparone. We worked the act for four years very successfully, performing all over Australia as headliners, as well as supporting famous celebrities such as Harry Secombe and others.”

When Joe’s family commitments became too much, the duo folded and Ziggy moved to Sydney, where he performs on the club circuit to this day, as well as running an entertainment booking agency, a charter flight company (he’s a licensed commercial pilot) and a computer consultancy.

Bob, meanwhile, continued to move, shake and create like only he could, with a multi-faceted and illustrious career that included a long stint as the Superintendent of the Arts of the City of Melbourne between 1972 and 1986. During this time he introduced the revolutionary ‘Free Entertainment in the Parks’ concept, staging theatre, ballet and concerts in parks around Melbourne so that people who weren’t part of the cashed-up ‘cultural establishment’ could experience it for themselves, free of charge, in the democratic surrounds of the great outdoors. 

Then there’s the small matter of starting his own artistic movement — “Mesmeratic art: the more you look, the more you see,” he explains — plus authoring several books, running for Mayor of Melbourne in 2008, and designing (and campaigning for) a new Australian flag. Prolific, much? (Check out his website for the full story)

Bob King Crawford's Australian flag design. Find out what it all means here

Rhythm guitarist Kevin Thomas teaches flute in Melbourne, and second drummer John Lake now lives in Canada. (Sadly, nobody seems to know what became of original drummer Malcolm McPhee.)

And that's all, folks. I hope you've enjoyed reading this rock'n'roll saga as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Thanks a billion to Ziggy, Bob and Charles for being so incredibly generous with their time and memories.