i94bar1200x80

melbourne books

  • i ll be goneI’ll Be Gone: Mike Rudd, Spectrum and How One Song Captured a Generation

    By Craig Horne (
Melbourne Books)

    Craig Horne’s biography of New Zealand-born musician Mike Rudd comes with a lofty sub-titular proposition: "How One Song Captured a Generation". That song is Spectrum’s chart-topping 1971 hit, "I’ll Be Gone".

    Horne’s biography is a valuable contribution to Australasian musical history. While Rudd’s trajectory as a musician and songwriter is common to many musicians, Horne’s methodical research and oral history charts the highs and lows of Rudd’s career in impressive detail.

    Save for a few cursory mentions in John Dix’s chaotic history of New Zealand music, “Stranded in Paradise”, Rudd’s Christchurch r’n’b band, Chants (or Chants R’n’B), the frenetic band whose parochial popularity provided the basis for Rudd’s move across the Tasman in the late 1960s, is largely absent from the pages of musical history.

    Rudd’s tenure in Ross Wilson’s Party Machine, covered previously in Horne’s biography of Daddy Cool, is recounted from a more nuanced, Rudd-oriented perspective. Spectrum rises, plateaus, recalibrates and fades away. Ariel teeters on the edge of commercial success, only for the record company to lose interest.

  • spirits of the hoey bookSpirits Of The Hoey. A Love Letter To The Hopetoun Hotel
    By Liz Giuffre and Gregory Ferris
    Images by Bryan Cook
    Melbourne Books

    By The Barman

    Love letters aren’t meant to be literary works; they’re words from the heart. That’s as apt as any descriptor for “Spirits Of The Hoey”, a 208-page softcover ode to a Sydney pub that closed its doors 16 years ago.

    Every city should have a Hoey. Back in the ‘80s and ‘90s, Sydney had a few of them. I was always more of an Excelsior person, but The Hoey had something that it and other pubs lacked (maybe with the eventual exception of The Sando at Newtown) and that was a clientele that regarded it as a second home.

    Back then, cheap rents and plentiful run-down inner-city housing meant the Sydney underground musical scene’s nexus was a handful of postcodes spanning Darlinghurst, Surry Hills and maybe Paddington.

    You could have thrown a blanket over them (preferably black - as someone sonce said, it wasn't a colour but a way of life.) The Hoey was “the local” for many musicians in the scene. It may not have been Ground Zero for the city's underground rock but you could see it from there.