The Plaza Theatre, Geelong. Mid-1970s
Three siblings. Alone. Dark. Outside a concert hall. The police pull up.
Nine years old, eleven, sixteen.
They had seen the first act, a singer-songwriter with a single about the meaning of names that was doing well in the charts.
It was too late for them to stay for the second act, a band that had had a hit, about being gone, a few years previously. 1971.
The police asked the children why they were standing on their own in the empty main street.
They explained that they had been to the first half of the concert. “Mum’s going to pick us up soon.”
The police looked up and down the street. Maybe pondered giving the trio a lift home. “Okay, I hope your mum is not too long.” The police car drives away.
Soon afterwards the family’s Kingswood sedan pulls over to the kerb.
Within five years the nine-year-old was teaching himself to play guitar; the eleven-year-old was sneaking underage into pubs to see bands; the sixteen-year-old was writing gig reviews.
Within ten years the nine-year-old was playing and singing in bands; the eleven-year-old was going to as many gigs as she could; the sixteen-year-old was interviewing musicians for the rock press, including the singer-songwriter and the band from that seminal night.
Within 20 years, the youngest had realised, no doubt reluctantly, that trying to be a full-time musician was going to be too hard; the sister had travelled the world a few times, always making sure to see favourite bands; the sixteen-year-old had realised, also no doubt reluctantly, that trying to be a full-time writer had been too hard.
They each kept their passion alive, expressing it in different ways. Their three older siblings loved music too but age-gaps and stages of life meant they were unlikely, if ever, to see bands all together. (One of the sixteen-year-old’s first shows in the big smoke, the Palais in Melbourne, was when his older sister took him to see a gravel-voiced piano-playing singer/smoker/raconteur from the US.)
There are siblings all over the world sharing their love of music, paving the way for one another. Listening to each other’s albums. Going to shows together. Sharing roadtrip playlists. You don’t have to agree on everything, you don’t have to like the same bands, or like the same bands as much, but there is a bond, a thread.
There are children inside concert halls (or outside), at festivals, at school-fete gigs, at council-in-the-park gigs, at buskers’ corners seeing and hearing – maybe for the first time – a musician playing in public.
And their parents may keep their distance a little, but they inwardly smile, knowing the baton has been passed.
StereoStory #700
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Vincent Maskell
Vin is founding editor of Stereo Stories and director/MC of Stereo Stories In Concert.
Thanks for lighting the spark.
Thanks Vin, this made me remember the time my step sister took me to some venue in Sydney to see three bands, I was underage and rather overwhelmed by the band names.
The Spunk Bubbles, The Hard Ons and the Johnnys. I really never got into the music it was rather loud and frantic I recall. The Johnnys were the pick of the three.
Cheers Luke
Your stepsister shared your enthusiasm for music, Luke, but with a somewhat different taste. Cheers.
Loved this
Thanks Paul. The key was not naming the musicians or songs, and holding the YouTube clips til the end.
Super, Vin. Economical yet evocative, and a bit poignant too.
Thanks comrade.The story was prompted by my younger brother, saying a few weeks ago at a Stereo Stories rehearsal, “Remember that night outside the Plaza Theatre in Geelong? Remember the cops..?” That’s all he said.
The cops should have sent you back in to see Spectrum
That’s very funny, Les. I did get so see lots of Ariel over the ensuing years. They were terrific. And more recently – last ten years – have seen Mike Rudd just a few times.
Excellent, Vin. Utterly relatable. Got myself two older siblings, the eldest being the best musical influence and introducer-to-excellent-bands I could ever hope for.
What a great yarn Vin and a very appropriate way of celebrating story #700. Like everyone else, I was wondering who the musician was you got to see at the Plaza. As there’s a bit of an age difference between myself and my two siblings the only experience I remember in a similar vein was back in the 70’s, when I was about fourteen or fifteen, where my older brother took me to Melbourne, to a small theatre in the city to see the Tommy movie. I’d never seen a P.A. system so big. It was really loud but I loved it. Another twist to your story is to see the baton passed on to your children as they are now up on stage performing.
Thanks David. Although the story is about my siblings I was mindful, in the writing, of my own children and how their love of music came, in part, via Julie and myself. Cheers.