I had heard on the news that Judith Durham and The Seekers recorded five big songs that hit the charts over four years — from 1964 until 1968 — then broke up. That was it. Finito.
So why all the fuss?
He thought about it, scratching his chin. “Some sounds stand out in memory more than others, General, like the bark of the early-morning steam train or the Butter Factory whistle.
“So did the jingles and music on the radio — it was like the weather back then, it was an experience we all shared at the same time because there was nothing else to listen to.
“Around the early- to mid-1960s, things started to liven up, all of a sudden.
“You would have been in your element, General.
“It was high-energy. The music world was bursting with new talent knocking Elvis off his perch, like The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan and The Who, along with the Moody Blues, Roy Orbison, The Righteous Brothers, The Hollies, Small Faces, then Peter, Paul and Mary — the list was long.
“Then here comes this Aussie band, The Seekers, hot off a Sitmar cruise-line gig, heading over to London, in early 1964.”
The Boss reckons The Seekers lucked out when, performing on a radio show in London, they met the songwriter Tom Springfield, brother to Dusty, who offered them I’ll Never Find Another You. And it took off.
He followed up offering them A World of Our Own and then The Carnival is Over in quick succession.
The Seekers were suddenly topping the UK and USA charts — they were in fierce demand.
Then came Morningtown Ride in 1966, the year decimal currency launched in Australia and, finally, perhaps the most famous Tom Springfield song of all, Georgy Girl.
1967 was the year The Seekers came home, The Boss remembered, performing to 200,000 people at the Myer Music Bowl in a memorable homecoming concert. Judith had been wanting to try performing on her own and, not long after that concert, they broke up and went their own ways.
She had some sell-out solo tours and recordings and The Seekers band continued, working with a series of different female singers — plus there was a reunion tour in the early 1990s, The Boss added. “But that unique and special sound, the sum of the parts, had evaporated.”
He reckons it was the combination of Tom Springfield’s songs and Judith’s voice, soaring but rich, pure and warm amidst the band’s harmonies, that seared those handful of songs in the unforgettable recess of memory.
“Our music was mainly on the radio then, General, or on a record if you could afford it — or persuade your parents to buy it. And the radio was on all day and half the night, so you heard them a lot.”
So it was for just a few short years, a long time ago, that Judith Durham’s voice captivated the world — and much of the world still remembers. That’s as good a reason for a state funeral as any, I guess. Woof!