Last night, I met a charming young Scot, a relative of my partner.
Flying back today, he mentioned disappointment in not being able to find more old Go Betweens albums on vinyl in the record stores he visited in Aus. He runs a monthly indie night back home and is a fan of these, as well as some NZ Flying Nun stuff, etc. Which, of course, got us talking about indie 80s music, and had me promising to send a list of some bands from waaaaay back then that he should check out.
Oh, my.
My musical nous has atrophied. But to remember the bands I used to see, underage, the gigs we snuck into… What fun.
So instead of any productive work that should be happening on this computer right now*, here we go.
It’s timely; I’ve just watched the poignant “The Sunnyboy”, which may be still available on iView, so there’s a good start. (No, it’s not, and it’s geoblocked; that’s no help. Here’s a link to the promo for the doco: not the same…) So we’ll start there.
A list, youtube links, for Stephen.
The Sunnyboys. Listen to everything. Start with Happy Man. Dance with Discipline. Come back to Australia and come and see them play next year. I’ve got my ticket.
So, you’re across the Go Betweens. Which would lead to The Triffids next, perhaps?
Surely you know The Saints? But if not…
The Church. Earlier and later.
Riptides, which must progress to GANGajang, for logic. And an alternative backpacker anthem. Although it doesn’t quite seem to fit here.
And, of course, Huxton Creepers (wish I could get hold of the whole Rock Arena show this is from).
If we’re dancing, it would be remiss to not play Lime Spiders’ Slave Girl.
Hunters and Collectors… Hoodoo Gurus… Flowers… Paul Kelly.
The rest of this iceberg you can google, yourself: Scientists. The Stems. Died Pretty. Cosmic Psychos. Laughing Clowns. Nick Cave. Celibate Rifles. TISM. The Johnnys. Regurgitator. Ups and Downs. Beasts of Bourbon.
…and that’s a quick half hour playing with the mid- to late- 80s. Imagine adding the 90s. This post would never get finished.
One more. In youth’s memory.
As an aside: Why are there no women here? Because my teenage musical taste was a manifest form of latent self-loathing? Nope. There were chicks on my record player, just not Australian chicks. Those ladies arrived in the 90s.
*Besides, it’s day 7 of Mac-ownership, and I may already be agreeing with Franzen. I don’t know if these cool machines are meant for serious writing. The keys seem too glib.