Rage sashayed onto the cathode-ray scene in 1987, and has been entertaining drunks, stoners and insomniacs every weekend since. One habit Rage has developed in recent years is replaying episodes of Countdown. I highly approve. As for most style-conscious youngsters of the Seventies and early Eighties, Countdown was a non-negotiable entry in the weekly viewing schedule. Tonight we saw an episode from 1987.
Little did I realise when I sat down that I was revisiting a seminal moment in popular music: the episode was hosted by Kylie Minogue, who was introduced with the explanation, "from Neighbours". Later in the show a pre-collagen Ms Minogue squeaked out her debut single, Locomotion. ("For more on Kylie's relationship with Jason, pick up your copy of Countdown magazine, featuring Bon Jovi on the cover.")
Everyone is well aware that big hair was de rigueur in the Eighties, but I had quite forgotten just how freely guitarists masturbated the necks of their axes. (Look away, Nana!) This theme was taken to its logical conclusion in the video to Prime Mover, in which the guitars choked animated ejaculate over young sleeping girls, turning them magically into snarling, slutty leather babes, understandably desperate to writhe lustily over the hot 'n' studly band. I couldn't see that twist coming, I swear. Nor the starchy matron coming in on the scene with pursed lips, shocked, only to be blown up. Ah, geez, those guys....how do they come up with these ideas?
Other notable appearances, for your entertainment, included:
But to mock the Eighties is the lazy option.
I was pleasantly surprised to see Paul Kelly perform Look So Fine, Feel So Low with The Coloured Girls. He seemed quite out of place amid the squealing and the frizzy do's and the waving Snoopy dolls, but he was young, had hair and showed every sign of settling comfortably into the throne he occupies today. Fellow icon Joe Camilieri was also sporting hair tonight, but it clearly had the white flag at the ready. The highlight of the show for me, without a shadow of a whisper of a hint of a doubt was....The Stems. I almost shrieked like a hormonal sixteen-year-old. That Dom Mariani isn't a household name in this country is astonishing. I mean, beggars belief. If you haven't heard The Stems or DM3 or any of this freakish genius's other musical delights, find them! Hunt them down! Your life will begin the moment you press play. Trust me on this one. (What is it with Perth musicians? The isolation? The water? More spare garages?)
My musical tastes were cast in the Eighties, so I plead guilty to bias without hesitation, however....if I was condemned for eternity to hear only tracks from the Australian indie music scene from that decade it would be no great punishment. But then, this girl's just a sucker for a fuzz box.
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