One of the best nights of my childhood involved being on the side of the road somewhere near Yass in a Kombi with no headlights. I know that sounds like the start of a Stephen King novel but it gets better, I promise. It was 1983 and my mum and I were travelling from Orange to Canberra after dark in the middle of winter when the fuses went on both the headlights at once. Nothing quite like losing all your lights while you’re doing 100km an hour on a country road. My mother quickly had them fixed and we were on our way.
Arriving at our destination we headed into a stunning concert venue. Being eight, I was the youngest person there by at least two decades and as we walked in you could see the “why did she bring a kid?” eyes fixed on us both. As the house lights when down and the stage lights came up, there he was. I had sung along to his 18-minute classic song ever since I could form words. Arlo Guthrie was on stage singing Alice’s Restaurant.
It was the first time I remember being in awe. It was a voice I had only ever heard through the slight crackle of vinyl, and it felt like he was singing just to my mum and I. Much to the relief and amusement of those seated around us, the only sound I made during the show was to join in with the rest of the crowd as they sang that iconic line: “You can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant”.
The following year I saw my first televised concert. Curled up on the lounge, in my flannel PJs, I was glued to the screen as Culture Club performed live from Sydney. I know that happens all the time now but in 1984 it was a rare occurrence. It’s not something I could articulate at the time but Boy George was special. He was outspoken, smart, funny and “himself” in a time when that wasn’t always applauded. While other people saw stage make-up, I saw warrior paint. I adored him.
I vividly remember saying to my mum that I would still love Boy George 20 years from now and that no one would even remember who the Beatles were. Okay, so that wasn’t one of my better calls in terms of the Fab Four, but all these years later I do still love Culture Club’s charismatic front man.
I have always had what could be considered an eclectic taste in music. Thanks to my mum’s extensive vinyl collection, most of my favourite songs while I was growing up, were released before I was born but, like my peers, my formative music years feel firmly anchored in the late 70s and 80s. Bouncing from disco to pop and the occasional slide into… well, Guns and Roses.
In what now feels like family tradition, that melting pot of musical taste has been passed down to The Kid. The TV remote, hair brushes and every wooden spoon I own have all served as microphones as the kid belts out Karma Chameleon, Hit Me with Your Best Shot and Endless Summer Nights. When the opportunity recently came up to be back stage with my little girl for Culture Club, I jumped at it. Thirty-two years to the month after watching the band I loved take over the small screen, there they were on stage, close enough to touch.
In a repeat of history, she was the youngest person there by two decades. Along with the sold out crowd at the Hordern Pavilion, in the safety of the photo pit, we danced, we sang and we laughed. For me, the memories of the 80s came flooding back and for her the budding romance with music and its creators is just beginning.
In a quiet moment backstage, we were lucky enough to share a chat and grab a quick photo with the man himself. Dressed head to toe in a stunning black and white suit, Boy George was warm and generous with his time. A childhood dream had been fulfilled.
As I watched this superstar, with his beautiful British accent, lightheartedly interacting with my baby girl and asking if he could borrow her headband, the enormity of the moment was not lost on me. We were with a man who sang on the recording of Do They Know it’s Christmas; who preformed at Live Aid; who literally helped changed the face of music. This counts as a sensational day.
As we left the room, The Kid looked up at me and smiled. “Mummy, the guy in the cow suit was awesome”. It was a nice moment. She didn’t care who he was, who he dates, how he votes, in which god he believes, if any. She just cared that he was nice to her and made her laugh. If only we could all retain that quality.
Less than 24 hours later I was downloading the photo we had taken together and the news broke about The Pulse Nightclub shooting in Orlando. A 29 year old had walked into a gay night club with a gun. Killing 49 people and wounding 53 others. As the horror unfolded, the tributes poured in, including the LGBT rainbow colours lighting up the Sydney Harbour Bridge.
I wondered how even the most conservative side of our political scale could be so forward thinking when it comes to our guns laws and so far behind public opinion when it comes to gay rights. As a nation, we have so much to be proud of but the fight continues.
“This world of hate must be designed for you, It matters what you say, it matters what you do. Now we’re fighting in our hearts; Fighting in the streets. Won’t somebody help me? ” The War Song – Culture Club
On tour with the kid 
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