Kandanga seems like a long way to go to take a picture of a bloke sitting on a car seat, but then it’s a special seat and a very special bloke.
It seems even further when Siri and the GPS fail us and photographer Rob Maccoll and I travel the scenic route for an extra half hour before a narrow, winding track leads us into the magical maze of shacks, sheds, and, well, piles of junk that is home to Tony Two Kids, who has been production manager for Barry Charles for longer than either of them care to remember.
If you don’t know who Barry Charles is, here’s a primer from a couple of years back: “In case you just got here or you’ve been under a rock for the past 45 years, Barry Charles is a rock god in Noosa. He’s the leader of the tribe, mentor to many, once the young muso cruising around naked on the outer bays, the man with the golden tonsils, the guy who put the country into soul and soul into our part of the country. He’s a man who loves life with a passion and his passion for making beautiful music has been bringing love and light into the lives of local audiences for almost half a century. And for all but the first of his 72 years [he was actually nudging 73], Barry has lived with the spectre of poliomyelitis and its sinister cousin, post-polio syndrome, which can come back and hit you even harder than the first time. That’s what Barry’s living through right now, and his response is to work even harder, play more gigs, spread the love, cover the South-East from Hervey Bay to the border, wife of many decades Diana Dummett at the wheel, helping lug the gear, helping Barry avoid the unthinkable, which is no longer doing the thing that has blessed his life, and ours.”
If you’ve guessed that I’m a Barry Charles fan, think again.
I’m a total tragic, as much for his spirit as his endless talent.
As I wrote in that same article: “The senior gent with long hair dangling from under his floppy hat finishes his light beer, excuses himself from the table and rises uncertainly with the help of walking sticks to make a slow progress, his baggy trackie dacks flapping in the breeze, across the restaurant to the bandstand, where he eases into a chair, picks up a guitar and strums a quick warm-up. Yes, the dude is in his golden years, no mistaking that, but the moment he adjusts the mic and leans in to allow that rich five-octave range to fill the room, he loses 20 years, maybe more, and he is unmistakably Barry Charles.”
So wind the clock on a couple of years and I’m helping Barry negotiate, with the help of a walking frame and two walking sticks, the uneven path past Tony Two Kids’ cute and crazy cottage (which features the world’s largest teapot collection) to what I would call a poolside lanai overlooking the forest, and there, in the corner, is an immaculately restored front seat from an FJ Holden.
Tony has found yet another ridiculously bright stage shirt for Barry to wear – this one owing a debt to both Picasso and Dali, as well as a nod to surf culture – and while Barry pulls it on I extract his guitar from its case, hand it over and he plonks himself down on the bright and shiny vinyl.
Lights, camera, action!
While Rob gets the shots I pull out a recorder and get the skinny from Barry on the humungous double-bunger of a celebration coming up end of month at the aptly-named Majestic Theatre.
Not only is it the old bugger’s landmark 75th birthday, but it’s precisely (give or take) 50 years since Barry started entertaining Sunshine Coasters after following Andy Tainsh, his band-mate in a group called Winchester, up from Melbourne and taking up residence in the Tainsh family home at Lake Weyba, where patriarch Doug Tainsh, a successful cartoonist and scriptwriter, became a second father to Barry, who had recently lost both his parents.
Doug’s frequent lakeside salons also introduced Barry to the leading creative lights of Noosa, such as Emma Freeman and Nancy Cato.
Meanwhile, the boys played rock and roll.
Barry and Andy formed a duo to play small gigs at the cafes and bars that were springing up all over Noosa, and they got so busy that Barry moved into a tent at The Woods caravan park so he could walk from gig to gig.
But they soon missed the camaraderie and the sheer noise of a band, and Barry and the Rockets was formed. The Rockets had a light show, wore hippie beach garb and jumped around a lot on stage. Their set lists combined Joe Cocker, the Animals, Sam and Dave and Eagles covers with their own quirky originals, often extolling the virtues of the Noosa good life, surfing naked at Granite, slurping smoothies at Harvest, picking gold-top mushies in the hills.
They captured Noosa in the ‘70s perfectly, the first of a series of creative endeavours for Barry to do so, including bands like The Last Resort and The Big Easy, and groundbreaking events like the full moon dances at Tinbeerwah and the Lost Lamington Shows at Verrierdale, a nod to the CWA who also used the hall.
In recent years, with the return of his polio, Barry has struggled a bit, no more so than this year, but nothing has diminished his indomitable spirit.
From the Holden seat he tells me: “Seventy-five feels pretty good, but it’s been a crazy year, what with Covid lingering on for both of me and Diana, and also because I’ve had to change direction with my music because of the ongoing medical meltdown I’ve had with carpal tunnel and a few other things. I was playing steel string guitar but then I had to stop playing because of the pain in the shoulders and hands, so I play a bit of nylon string guitar but I’ve also decided to play the harmonica while holding it, a different style for me, doing more early blues.
“At the same time I’ve been working on another project with a mate called Paul Camilleri who can play anything from Spanish to Egyptian and Arabic guitar, so I thought there was a way we could push the music with my vocal scats, go a bit world music. I met Paul at a house party where we jammed together and all these remarkable sounds came out.
“With all these things happening and two big landmarks coming up, I thought it was time for a celebration, not just of my birthday and 50 years of music here, but a way of saying thanks to all the great musicians I’ve played with on the coast, many of whom will be playing at the Majestic.”
Alongside Barry at the Majestic Theatre on 27 May will be current collaborator Paul Camilleri, longtime colleague Dave Flower and his band, Eumundi singer/songwriter Tobias, Latin funk outfit Funk Lava, moody pop duo Boi and eSKae, and many other mystery guests. Limited seats still available, nibbles and cash bar. Says Barry: “Be there or be square!”
Barry Charles’ 75th Birthday Party, Majestic Theatre Pomona, Saturday 27 May, 7-11pm. Tickets $35 ($30 concession) at themajestictheatre.com.au
