UN-STARSTRUCK

As an astute reader of this here chronicle, you are surely well-versed in the American and U.K./Euro components of the post-punk zeitgeist, and all the attached information that has cornered the market of awareness via various reissues and tales that have ensued. But what about the relatively less documented Antipodean antics? It’s taken a number of years for some of the dustier corners of those scenes to trickle to our hemisphere in various forms of knowledge, and basically you had to look into the right zones to get the real story of the true underground. New Zealand especially has seen a fanatical obsession in some. Thanks to the continuation of Flying Nun Records awareness here, plus reissues and releases by stateside labels like Matador and Merge (and more subterranean sounds resurfacing in the form of steady reissues on labels like Siltbreeze and Bunkerpop), that legacy has been well cemented. Meanwhile, much of the obscuro history of Australia has oft been overshadowed by the larger bands who filtered to the States via decent independent distribution in the ’80s (looking at the Go-Betweens, Crime & the City Solution, the Triffids, and the Birthday Party) and even a few who managed to strike out some major-label megahits (INXS, Midnight Oil, the Church). Nick Cave, whose direct lineage of both his own and his players’ work traces back to the deep Aussie underground, is steadily filling huge halls around the world. It bears some examination to his roots in the Birthday Party (and the Boys Next Door, the band’s predecessor, which started in 1978) being fueled by the Pop Group and the Stooges, with the latter being a mighty magic bullet for many punk purveyors Down Under (see the Scientists, Radio Birdman, X, and the Saints).

Australia’s major-label setup had great designs to feed off the examples set by its U.S. and U.K. big biz counterparts, which around the time of 1978 was how to market the new wave to the masses. When Chris Knox’s Toy Love were imported from New Zealand by an Oz major, it tore them apart and ultimately consigned Knox into a return to DIY purity and the 4-track constructions that, in the long run, went on to be his most defining trait. The Gillian Armstrong-directed early-’80s “musical comedy” Starstruck depicted a Josie Cotton-esque spiky-haired chanteuse searching for fame, framed in a Hollywoodization of what Australia culture exporters deemed a “new-wave Grease.” Very cute.