Carry On Barnstorming
Jimmy Barnes is part of Australia’s rock furniture. The former frontman for Cold Chisel has wailed a surplus of national anthems, from Khe Sanh to Flame Trees, from Cheap Wine to Working Class Man. Once that Glaswegian shrill breaks the silence, you can’t mistake the sound for any other creature.
Even after double-heart surgery this year (repairing a dud valve), the maestro behind Double Happiness can’t be gagged. Instead, he’s used convalescence as a furious stint of songwriting. And last weekend Jimmy left his Mascot bedroom for the wild red yonder of northern Queensland.
I was lucky enough to accompany Jim on the trip, a glorious misadventure weaving from Rockhampton in search of a coal town called Moura, where 5000 miners were waiting to rock.
The fun started by the party getting lost along the way. For those with a map, or a satellite gadget, the trip is a picnic: Rocky – Mt Morgan – Biloela – and you’re there.
But not this touring party. Hand-picked from Dallas Crane and other slick outfits, the five-piece band piled into two Taragos and bore due west for Emerald along the Capricorn Highway. If not for a hamburger craving at a certain roadhouse in Duaringa (Aboriginal for ‘turn yourself around’) we may still be chasing the sun in search of a stage.
The whole escapade is due to appear as a feature story in Sunday Life in a month or so, a ramp-up for Jim’s 17th solo record, Out in the Blue. Or possibly after the Moura muddle: Out in the Boonies.
As for Jimmy the man, you realise that a turbo voice is not the only thing a singer needs to guarantee a lengthy career. Charm, wit, empathy and drive are kinda handy too.