The great Yolngu educator and unlikely rock star drew his last breath,sadly,with his pinnacle of achievement 20 years behind him. The groundswell of First Nations recognition inspired by Yothu Yindi’s sole hit is historic and undeniable. All these pages later it’s archived on Spotify with the rest of the 1991 hit parade.
That’s the nagging disconsolation that dogs Darwin journalist Matt Garrick’s triumphal biography of the rock band that took Yolngu culture,and by extension Australian Indigenous pride and grievance,to the world. Like the bark petitions presented in protest to the House of Representatives by Dr M’s Yirrkala elders in 1963,Treaty is a demand without a response:more relic than spark of revolution.
But isn’t that the way pop goes? Grabbing the world’s attention is all about showing it a good time,not a long time,and Garrick gives due emphasis to that side of the equation as he follows a likeable bunch of black and whitefellas from tin sheds in Arnhem Land to the biggest stages of the world.
It’s more than Dr M’s story. The narrative can feel the weight of committee as every available member of the (still) accumulating collective takes turns reminiscing. Cue mildly naughty hotel hijinks,writing,recording and touring with Paul Kelly,Neil Finn,Andrew Farris and Midnight Oil;and escalating performance opportunities recalled with many variations on “Woah,this is amazing!” and “What the hell,look at all these people here for us!”
The international impact of Yothu Yindi’s unprecedented mix of bungul and bilma,drums and guitars,ochre and yidaki,anthem and manikay is worth reiterating. It’s gloriously surreal to read about the band’s encounters with Joey Ramone,Neil Young and The Grateful Dead.
“No,you are my hero,” disco king John Travolta tells painted dancer and co-founder Witiyana Marika backstage in Hollywood.