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GEORGE BURARRAWANGA
Warumpi Band lead singer George Burarrawanga has died at 50. The band’s zestiest song: Jailanguru Pakarnu. I can’t find it online, but at home somewhere I’ve got a Warumpi Band EP with possibly the best cover image in history; it shows the Warumpis standing around their stricken Holden ute, bogged axle-deep in red desert sand, while a large gentleman faces the camera in a t-shirt bearing the words: “I hate Noosa Heads and surfing.”
“standing around their stricken Holden ute, bogged axle-deep in red desert sand”
When i was running tours in the desert,you would see somthing piss funny everyday.the best i saw was a XD falcon coming at me running on four rims with about 12 lads from Mutijlulu in it, it was missing half its panels and had no windows and missing a door and no bonnet(hood,for you yanks),the fuel lines were stuffed judging by the lad that was sitting over the motor with a 20 litre drum with a line running straight to the carbie with a ciggie in his mouth.
the best i saw was a XD falcon coming at me running on four rims with about 12 lads from Mutijlulu in it, it was missing half its panels and had no windows and missing a door and no bonnet(hood,for you yanks),the fuel lines were stuffed judging by the lad that was sitting over the motor with a 20 litre drum with a line running straight to the carbie with a ciggie in his mouth.
That was obviously the “bushmaster falcon” - it gets 20 litres to the carton.
Posted by surfmaster on 2007 06 12 at 05:00 AM • permalinkWe met George and the band one Sunday arvo in the early ‘90s when they played at the Mandorah pub, across the harbour from Darwin. He was a funny man with that dry wit that many Top End aborigines have. He was a real talent and I was sorry to hear he’d died (especially since he was the same age as me. Scary thought.)
Sparrow (#6): Mate, you’re taking me back… I (mis)spent my youth in the Pilbara and the Kimberley (back in the late 70s and early 80s) and your story brought back memories. I can see that XD Falcon as clear as day. I also spent more than a few Sunday sessions at pubs from Onslow and Whim Creek to Fitzroy Crossing and beyond listening to bands like these guys. I don’t know if the Millsteam Pub is still there, but I remember it as one of the best watering holes in the northwest.
I never heard George Burarrawanga or the Warumpi Band, but he sure brings back memories of my life nearly thirty years ago.
dead at 50 - what a bummer
anyone remember bush mechanics? - get the dvd
sorry it’s from the abc shop but it’s worth the humiliation of going there
I’m sad that he’s gone and that the possibility of him being a mentor to the next generation of musically creative Aboriginals has gone with him. Ten years or so ago there seemed to be a lot of effort going on up here at the old NTU, nurturing Aboriginal bands and musicians, but that seems to have gone too.
Jeeze! These days they’re building Federation-style project homes out at Palmerston and we’ve been given a Territory wide speed limit of a miserable 130kph! I’ve driven at 200kph on the way to Uluru and hardly noticed I was going fast till I came up to the single sharpish right turn. Had to slow down a bit to take that safely. Of course, not being stupid, I would never have been driving so fast had the car been a beat up old ute with unrestrained passengers in the tray or had I been driving at dawn or dusk.
We have become way too southerner and absolutely risk-averse for my liking. I blame Claire. But, then again, she and her mob could never have got into power but for the manifold failings of the CLP government her mob replaced
Hanyu
Spent about 6 years in the shearing game late 80,s early 90,s. The millstream is long gone, just a telstra substation where it used to be. The Whim creek pub (and roadhouse) is a legend. If you ever go there ask for a hungerbuster burger, bloody thing would choke a horse.
The owner got in trouble years back for taking pot shots at a station owner buzzing the roadhouse in his plane (they were fueding).
Place is up for sale now.
The same couple have run it for about 40 years now. A real pair of characters, well worth getting on the piss with. Get drunk enough and they will throw you in one of the rooms out the back for free. (so Ive heard….)Posted by thefrollickingmole on 2007 06 12 at 07:58 AM • permalinkPeter Garret should stick to rock ‘n roll; his opinion his accurate:
“If you think of Mick Jagger or James Brown or Michael Hutchence or you know any of the sort of really charismatic performers that just sort of take over a stage, whether they are on the back of a flat-bed truck in a dusty community or whether they’re in a theatre in Sydney or Melbourne, this bloke had it and he had it in spades,” Mr Garrett told ABC radio.
Great picture of Burrarrawanga at that link; culturally acceptable, presumably, as it’s the Melbourne Age.
#21 #26 Yeah, Bob. Everything’s reversed in the antipodes, don’t forget. Northern Australia is our Dixie. In the era of one-time Premier of Queensland Joh Bjelke-Petersen (a devout Lutheran version of Huey Long who was surrounded by less pious Lyndon Johnson types), his State was referred to as the Deep North. Northerners refer to southerners (especially, but not exclusively, Victorians) as “Mexicans”. New South Welshman are given a modicum of respect from Queenslanders because they at least play real football. There is, nevertheless, a relationship between Mexicans and Top Enders, for example, because they both play Australian “football”.
Fine tribute from Peter Garrett but it seems to me that whereas Garrett’s music was divisive (“White man came, took everything”—Dead Heart, Midnight Oil), George’s was reconcilatory (Black Fella, White Fella, it doesn’t matter). Here’s a video with both of them.
#6
Reminds me of an old joke…
A busload of Yank tourists is hurtling along the Lasseter Highway toward Uluru. They’re listening intently as the animated guide describes the legendary bushcraft abilities of the local tribesman.
The driver notices a black dot in the shimmering haze ahead in the middle of the road. As the bus approaches he recognises the form of an Aboriginal man lying prostrate in the middle of the road with his ear firmly planted to the bitumen. He pulls the bus the side of the road, opens the doors and the guide leads the gaggle of tourists onto the roadway, where they quietly, yet excitedly, surround the native.
The guide whispers to the crowd: “You’re in luck today people; here we have a perfect example of a Australian bushman demonstrating his legendary tracking skills.”
The crowd looks on in awe.
“Jackie,” says the guide, “what are you tracking?”
The Aborigine, keeping his ear to the ground, rolls his eye toward the guide and whispers in a strained voice from the corner of his mouth…
“A white holden ute, mate,...travelling ‘bout 130 miles per hour…‘sgot 4 blokes in the front…‘nother 7 in the tray…2 blueys, coupl’a dead roos an’ a coupl’a dozen cartonsa Emu bitter. There’s a bulge in the front passenger side wheel and the muffler is draggin’ along the road behind…”
At this, the crowd lets out a collective gasp of astonishment.
“Good God man!” says one old Yank, “You can tell that just from listening to the vibrations on the road?!”
The crowd waits an anticipation as the native gathers his thoughts…
“Nah mate. I fell outta the back’a the fuckin’ thing about 10 minutes ago, ‘ey!
Good one, murph. That’s blackfella humour, even if the joke’s a bit old. We were fishing up in the north last year, driving back to Fitzroy Crossing, came across a 5-tonne truck at the side of the highway, 40 or so indigenous brothers from an outstation on the way to an all-ages footie carnival at the Crossing. They had a flat tyre, no spare, jack or wheelbrace. We quickly debated our racist vs PC attitudes, did the good thing, pulled up alongside the truck, took two of the boys aboard and dropped them at the football field (you probably know the one) so that they could get other brothers and cuzzens to fix the truck.
Anyway, the footie carnival went off well, we had a funny night as “f…ing good whitefellas” and we spent the following week fishing with the boys. Caught lots.
They could’ve been bigger otherwise…
quirky, individual sound; compelling lyrics; good musicianship.
Australia was drowing in musical talent a couple of decades ago, bands that were good enough for the stratosphere were so common you just accepted it as normal. Most of them went nowhere for a thousand different reasons…
Perhaps if there were more managers and organizers with an American-style entrepreneurial discipline, we’d have seen more of Warumpi Band and others. Sometimes the creative types of the world need a business nerd to come along and pull them into shape.
That backyard musical culture seems to have gone (I could be wrong about that, I don’t go out much these days). Radio station triple J has tried to keep it alive, but in keeping with their socialist command-and-control tendencies, they have a fixed idea about the style of music they want to cultivate.Posted by daddy dave on 2007 06 12 at 12:15 PM • permalinkIt’s funny. The words seem familiar, but every once in awhile I’m reminded that Australians don’t speak English.
Posted by rocketeer67 on 2007 06 12 at 12:25 PM • permalink#2 CraigC - Love your site, Tim, but sometimes I haven’t the foggiest what you’ve just said.
Craig, he’s speaking Australian. Do what the rest of us do. Smile and nod your head like you know what the hell he’s talking about.
Posted by wronwright on 2007 06 12 at 01:25 PM • permalinkDon’t worry, Warumpi, Coloured Stone and Jimmy Little tunes, or at least stuff that sounds a bit like them are ground out almost every night of the week at places like Papunya, Yuendemu,Hermansburg and Docker.
Dreamtime Baby is still the fave.
I agree that Blackfella / Whitefella - Doesn’t matter what your colour so long as youse a true fella stands in stark contrast with the Oils angst.
And as for Bush Mechanics in addition to being a first class training fillum, is quite possibly the funniest series ever screened on Aussie TV. Real reality TV.
Those readers who are at a loss to understand much of this thread, have a look at a few Warumpi clips and Bush Mechanics all will be much clearer.
FIRE
Is fire good? Is fire bad?
Because it destroys the home and the country?
But sometimes this may be good.
Grandfather, grandmother, mother and father have always used and been dependent on fire.
For them it is very important.White people are concerned about bushfires and are quick to work together to put them out.
Fire!
#35 For those of you unfamiliar with the Australian vernacular, here is a brief translation guide for this thread.
Warumpi Band: a happy-go-lucky aboriginal rock band that was around for a long time, and achieved moderate success
Holden: local car manufacturer. Now owned by General Motors, so “General Motors Holden” or GMH.
ute: flatbed truck
Noosa Heads: trendy beach town in South East Queensland (actually quite a nice place, I don’t know what the bloke had against it)
EP: 4 track vinyl record (more songs than a single, but not as many as an album)
corker - something that is unexpectedly good; of fine quality;
carbie: carburettor
petrol: gas, gasoline
ciggie: cigarette (also durry, fag, or smoke)
the bush: the wilderness, the outback
bush mechanic: someone who salvages abandoned vehicles and puts the parts together to make a vehicle that works
arvo: afternoon
the big smoke: the city (usually far, far away)No point in describing all places mentioned in thread, they can be conjured using a single thought experiment:
Imagine the most desolate, remotest, dustiest town in the middle of nowhere that you possibly can. There is one intersection in town. It has a post office on one corner, a store on one corner, a police station on one, and a pub on one. The pub has a line of weather-hardened men at the bar, with flies loping around the entrance in lazy holding patterns. A mongrel dog sits outside in the shade of a lone, stringy gum tree.
There’s a petrol station down the road with two bowsers, one doesn’t work, and a pile of rusty vehicles around the back. Every direction you look, you can see the flat, red earth, parched and dotted with gums, all the way to the horizon.
The heat plays tricks on your mind, so when you stare at the road that leaves town and vanishes to a dot, it looks like there’s water off in the distance.That place you’re imagining would be known in those parts as “the big smoke”.
Posted by daddy dave on 2007 06 14 at 12:32 AM • permalink
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Whitefella Blackfella. It’s a corker of a tune.