There’s one gig in my 40-year career that sticks in my mind – probably more for sentimental than musical reasons.
I’m Talking – the stylized funk band I fronted in the 80s – were part of the lineup for Rocking With the Royals, the concert performed at the Melbourne Concert Hall (now Hamer Hall) on 4 November 1985 for Prince Charles and Lady Diana, who were in town for Victoria’s 150th anniversary celebrations.
INXS headlined the concert, which was hosted by Molly Meldrum, and Models were on the bill too. I’m Talking’s co-lead singer Zan Abeyratne and I had “loaned” ourselves vocally to Models’ most recent hits Out of Mind Out of Sight and Barbados, and Zan’s sister Sherine had sung on the INXS smash hit burn for you, so we were all family of sorts. At the time, we were smug and self-assured – collectively we owned the Top 10 for several years and were lining up to do a landmark national tour called Australian Made which reflected the power of Australian music at the time.
On the night of Rocking With the Royals, I didn’t feel my band’s performance was our best: the sound was terrible and it was hard to capture the sweaty club atmosphere I’m Talking were more accustomed to. We did our dance set to seated guests whose attention was mostly fixed on Princess Diana – as was ours. She was the most attentive person in the room, sitting forward across the banister, clapping and beaming her support. She kind of glowed.
Our set done and dusted, we got to settle in and watch the show. Models’ Sean Kelly was the quintessential surly rockstar and his distinctive snarl made me swoon in post-punk delight. Singer James Freud brought a pop element to their jam – and it worked like oil and balsamic.
Next up… INXS! Michael Hutchence was luminous like a sun god – I always sat in the wings when we opened for INXS, transfixed by his presence and the romance of their sound. The sound of MY sonic youth. Need You Tonight! Burn For You…. Gah! Elvis? The Beatles… who? Michael was a poetic and generous person, always interested in us and inquiring about our collective experience – the trajectory towards stardom, the Top 10 Countdown culture, the international interest, the sharks circling, and the love stories. I was always starstruck and shy and never knew what to say. I felt stupid and immature. He, on the other hand, was always dear and funny.
The moment from that night that is in the sharpest aperture in my mind (and the irony of this is thumpingly eerie) was directly after the concert when we lined up and waited in the sealed-off St Kilda Road underpass beneath the Melbourne Concert Hall to meet Diana and Charles.
The underpass was claustrophobic and full of screaming punters all braying to see her, and we stood in a line in anticipation. I felt ridiculous in my ostrich-feather hat and enormous shoulder pads like Joan Collins on steroids. By and by the royal couple came, shook our hands and left. The hysteria was intense. Diana was like a swan gliding across it all. He was an ugly duckling. And we were a small parochial chattel of the Commonwealth, trying to be seen, like cheap sequins on a titty tassel.
I felt engulfed by the royals’ “greatness” like Alice in Wonderland shrunk into something small, superfluous and unimportant. But I was glad to meet Diana. Her serenity seemed sincere. I was sad to hear she had died in an underpass. I felt I saw it before it happened – that day in there. Whenever I drive through that underpass on my way to the airport I get a chill up and down my spine.
Both Michael Hutchence and James Freud are gone now too. I miss them, and strangely I miss the 80s. I knew that world so well. I don’t recognize this world at all.
The class of 85. Rock’n’roll RIP.
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George is Digismak’s reported cum editor with 13 years of experience in Journalism