writes Andrew Murfett.
IT WAS once a dirty little secret, something to keep to yourself.
classic rock act.
celebrates the songwriting prowess of Cold Chisel.
the late 1970s and early 1980s - have had an image problem. No longer.
After the band imploded in 1984, commercial radio prolonged their legacy by playing their songs around the clock. The clutching a bottle of vodka, screaming into a microphone.
caricatures.
Warner managing director Ed St John, who instigated the tribute album, says perceptions of Cold Chisel depend on a person's age.
"If you were around in the Chisel era, you probably hold a different view than somebody who has come up since," he says. a cliche.
"
Augie March's Kiernan Box, who plays keyboard on his band's rendition of Janelle on the new album, says Cold Chisel had an "They were a band that was just omnipresent," Box says.
makeover. But if the tribute concept had been floated 10 or even five years ago, there would have been little chance of attracting the calibre of acts that appear on Standing On The Outside.
willing to take part. The support of John Watson, who manages Silverchair, Missy Higgins and Pete Murray, proved crucial.
However, it turns out Pete Murray is a huge fan of the band and he For his part, Watson says that when he was growing up, Cold Chisel were not the "bogan cliche" they later became.
"They were just a great Australian rock'n'roll band," he says. "But after they split up in '83, commercial radio just kept Following their break-up, singer Jimmy Barnes embarked on a solo career.
had become kind of uncool through no fault of their own," Watson says.
"In recent years, the pendulum has swung back. People are to their amazing strengths and depth as a band."
1977.
He was working for Rolling Stone, reporting on one of Chisel's first Sydney shows. The gig was at the Bondi Lifesaver Club supporting Skyhooks.
tied to any particular musical fashion.
Many acts in the late 1970s were gripped by punk or new wave, or hair (think Sherbet or Skyhooks). Chisel didn't. They were not into jeans.
"They were uncompromisingly just themselves," St John says.
any musician makes when talking about Cold Chisel.
Walker declined to comment to EG.
Interestingly, Walker himself is stuck in a rut: he is releasing them.
Before Chisel, Walker lived an academic life. He was a science graduate who had worked in weapons research.
In sharp contrast, frontman Jimmy Barnes was a street-brawling Adelaide. "Barnesy" was inarticulate, tough as nails and spat out a thick Scottish accent most could barely understand.
Behind Walker and Barnes, the three backing band members Ian Moss, Phil Small and Steve Prestwich were subdued but did not contribute any less to the band.
They were not successful in the commercial sense early on. Their first album, (which contained Khe Sanh), barely went gold, with sales of 35,000 copies.
could quite understand, and yet there on that first album is written," St John notes.
It was not until their third album, East, that Cold Chisel's fan base began to expand. After four years of touring relentlessly, the songs finally started seeping into the Australian rock consciousness. For more than two years, they were untouchable.
Yet almost inexplicably, at the peak of their fame, they stopped.
