As I entered Manning Bar, it was immediately clear that tonight would be a unique evening. Donning newspaper hats, a good 500 people had taken over the dance floor, sitting down, cross-legged, slowly sipping away on their beer. Yes, tonight these 20-somethings would all be singing along to tunes from their youth. And with the exception of the alcohol bit, even their composure was appropriate.
First up, however, was the unknown Rainbow Chan, a local singer who was as cute as she was talented – performing a variety of tracks often inspired by the tunes young girls sing while jump roping or hand clapping. Or so I’m told. Surely there’s a more technical term. Indeed, some around me sung along, but most just enjoyed her voice and xylophone skills. And supported by a two-piece, who mostly played the double bass and a drum kit, it was often a sound that filled up the room … but when solo, it was as quiet and intimate as you get. Such doesn’t always work at a bar, but a marginal sense of respect from the crowd made it possible.
After a short break, it was now time for the man all had come to see: Peter Combe. As he took to the stage, we jumped into the standing position as one, anticipating a trip down memory lane.
Like many who are now in their 20s, Peter Combe had a permanent fixture in my Walkman at the age of 7. From “Newspaper Mama” to “Mr. Clicketty Cane” and “Toffee Apple”, these remarkably silly songs have always taken up a warm, sugar-coated place in my heart. But here, surrounded by newspaper-hat-wearing-intoxicated-twenty-somethings, was the first time I’d listened to any of these songs in some 15 years.
Therefore, to say this was a strange experience is putting it lightly. For one, if you had told me a few years ago that Peter Combe would embark on a national 18+ pub tour of Australia and it would be SUCCESSFUL, I would have called you crazy and slapped you back to reality. But sure enough, against everyone’s expectations, it worked: Peter Combe rose from the ashes of our memories and has been greeted by thousands of intoxicated twenty-somethings around Australia. All keen to briefly return to their childhood, and sing along with a sense of enthusiasm many probably forgot still existed within them. Then, they’d leave the venue with a huge smile on their face, and a newspaper hat in the recycling bin…. or on the floor next to the empty beer if we’re being realistic.
This past weekend’s Manning Bar gig was no exception, and here Peter named his backers “the Belly Flop in a Pizza Band”, which included his son and daughter on guitar and backing vocals respectively. Then you throw in drums, keyboards and a bass guitar, and you’ve made this music just about as rock and roll as kids’ songs can get. And it’s here that I got the real surprise: the genuine quality of Peter’s music. Sure, the lyrics are the silly, often educational fun expected of kid’s tunes. But the music itself is far more inspired by the music of the “adult world” than by simplicity (because “kids can’t handle anything but”), thus far outshining anything the kids are listening to these days. “Chopsticks” comes to immediate mind here, with the simple pianos keys of Chopsticks being transformed into something quite elaborate; a story of a child learning chopsticks on the piano and their stringent desire to play the opera house.
Then you’ve got songs like “Tadpole Blues” and “Juicy Juicy Green Grass (A Sheep’s lament)” which lend an ear to the blues and the jazz scenes (as do many of his tracks). Meanwhile, you’ve got tracks like “Exterminate” and “Syntax Error” which sound straight out of the Devo songbook. And while “Tell Me the Ti-i-ime Please” might teach kids how to tell the time (itself a rendition of sorts of “Rock Around The Clock”) the real education was in good music. Perhaps I even have Peter Combe to thanks for some of my current taste. Who knows? But all I know is that these concerts have made a lot of people very happy. It’s very rare that one is able to live vicariously in their past, even for a couple of hours, and with such a notion in mind, perhaps it’s no surprise these gigs have been a success.
It certainly helps that it’s fun music at a most basic level.
Even if you didn’t grow up with him, you couldn’t help but smile.
All in all, I think it’s fair to say I’d left the evening feeling a bit strange, but quite thrilled – I’d just sung along to songs I hadn’t heard in 15 years, along with 500 other people who find themselves in the same boat. To be honest, as a child, I didn’t even realise others were listening to him, so to have had this sing-a-long experience at the age of 22, was bizarre to say the least. But it was pure, unadulterated fun, and with an expected level of quality to boot. Much more than songs about belly flopping into a pizza (EWWW YUCK!), being reminded of his songs allowed me to look back on my formative days and realise that I actually some fairly decent music taste back then. High 5 Larry Jnr. High 5!
