Australia in the 1980s

The music and style of late 70s punk had a back-to-basics aesthetic that rejected anything synthetic, artificial and embellished. However by the early 80s many new wave bands were moving beyond punk’s limited musical palette and trading in their guitars for synthesizers (synths) and drum machines. Synths were a major part of the sound of the 80s.

Synth pop was popularised by British artists like Soft Cell, Depeche Mode, Gary Numan, Joy Division/New Order, the Human League, Tears for Fears, the Pet Shop Boys, Eurythmics, the Bronski Beat, Howard Jones and many others.

With liberal doses of hair gel, make-up and marketing, snazzy groups like A Flock of Seagulls, the Thompson Twins and Haircut 100 were suited to the new video medium. They came to be denigrated as ‘haircut bands’.

Synth pop’s use of new technology came with the rise of video games and computers. In fact New Zealand synth pop outfit Mi-Sex wrote a song about ‘Computer Games’ and cultivated a computerised, futuristic image.

Australian major record companies found their own synth pop talent. One act was Real Life, who had an international hit with ‘Send Me an Angel’. Another was a Melbourne outfit called Pseudo Echo, whose early fans identified themselves as part of a goth subculture. Influenced by Ultravox, Duran Duran and Japan, the band came to be labelled as new romantic. Although they did not have a record contract, in 1983 Ian ‘Molly’ Meldrum put them on Countdown. Quickly signed by EMI, Pseudo Echo became known as Australia’s foremost exponents of synth pop. By the end of 1983 they had gone Top 5 with their debut single, ‘Listening’. Dig the classic 80s drum and synth sounds on this clip.

Expect to see some original 80s gear from Pseudo Echo in our 1980s exhibition. The band has generously agreed to lend some great stuff, like one of those 80s keyboard guitars (‘keytars’), some drums, clothing and awards. Singer/guitarist Brian Canham, who runs a studio in Melbourne, even has the shirt he wore in the video clip for ‘Funkytown’, which was an international hit for Pseudo Echo in 1986. The video is living proof that this band could rock.

The 1980s exhibition will feature an exclusive interview with Brian, in which he reveals that the band took its name from one of the settings on a synth.

When you think early 80s, ‘new romantic’ bands come to mind. What was it all about – music, fashion or both?

They say that the ‘new romantic’ look emerged from the nightclubs of London, inspired by the fashion designer Vivienne Westwood, who launched her ‘Pirate’ collection in 1981.

A contrast to the drab punk fashions of the late 1970s, this was a shift towards glamour, fantasy and dressing up. The new romantic look included androgynous clothes, frilly shirts, velvet, smart suits, make-up, eyeliner and quaffs. It made reference to historical dress, c1700s (pirates, tricorn hats etc). Check out Adam Ant’s ‘dandy highwayman’ clobber in this video clip.

‘Antmusic’ certainly had a different sound. To me it sounds strangely unmelodic. The backing sounds like the Glitter Band with extra tom toms.

As well as Adam Ant, the new romantic fad was associated with English bands like Visage, Duran Duran, Ultravox and Spandau Ballet. I have tried but cannot differentiate a ‘new romantic’ sound from the rest of the synth pop that ruled the charts in the early 80s. The songs were conventionally structured and performed without the anarchy and angst of punk. New romantic bands espoused no particular ideological messages and were unthreatening. Ergo, it was more about the look.

Culture Club are often cited as new romantic but the label is inadequate to describe the incredible style of Boy George. By the time they had conquered the charts, the distance between Culture Club and punk was so great that Dave Rimmer titled his 1986 book Like Punk Never Happened: Culture Club and the New Pop. I never read it but I could understand the title.

Through the 1980s (and beyond), I loved recording cassette tapes of my favourite albums. I also enjoyed making my own customised mixtapes, especially if I was about to go away on holidays. Cassettes provided mobility that Long Playing records (LPs) did not have. Most cars were fitted with cassette players. In fact, until a few years ago, my car had a cassette player, not a CD player. I still miss it. When I bought a new car in 2005, I asked the dapper young Honda salesman at Rick Damelian’s if the car came with a cassette player and he looked at me like I was an idiot.

I used to buy blank 90 minute cassettes (C90). Most LP record albums were about 40 minutes, so a C90 could hold an album on each side, usually with space to add a few carefully selected bonus tracks. Making these tapes was a solitary pleasure and an end in itself, just as much fun as listening to them later.

Some people created special covers for the cardboard sleeves that went inside the transparent cassettes boxes. Here is a picture of some of Adam Takesce’s beautifully decorated cassette sleeves. Sometimes he would copy the album cover art, others were his own creations.

I avoided buying pre-recorded cassettes, thinking it was better to own the LP and tape it for the car. Cassettes in the car were exposed to sunlight and rough treatment. And there was the hazard of having tapes chewed up by cassette players. LPs lasted longer, sounded better (no hiss) and were more substantial artefacts. Not everybody agreed. Pre-recorded cassettes accounted for more than 50% of global music sales in the mid-1980s.

Launched in 1979, the Sony Walkman was a groundbreaking personalised wearable hi-fi product that boosted the boom in cassette sales.

The Walkman was the iPod of its day, although cumbersome and heavy by comparison. It had clunky buttons, short battery life and no shuffle mode. But people loved it. It was the perfect accessory for the 80s exercise craze.

I had a sporty yellow version of the Sony Walkman when I was working in Europe in 1984 and 1985. It was comforting on cold alpine nights to listen to my Elvis Costello tapes, the Jam and a precious mixtape of Big Chill-ish 1960s songs sent by a friend.

Although the consumption of recorded music was dominated by albums and cassettes until the end of the 1980s, the arrival of the CD was a major shift. Cassettes were quickly cast aside or stashed in the back of the wardrobe, where mine still languish today. I just can’t bring myself to throw them out. They are part of me.