Orstralia: A Punk History

It's hard to believe that a 'definitive' history of Australian punk had simply never been attempted before now. In his two-volume magnum opus Orstralia, Tristan Clark more than attempts such a feat - he manages to successfully synthesise three decades of multiple subgenres into a comprehensive narrative. 

 

It's impressive to see such a diverse and multifaceted history hammered into a recognisable shape of sorts.  

 

Orstralia not only shines a light on bands that are often obscure and inherently resistant to documentation, it also makes sense of a cultural movement that has endured well beyond the realm of gimmickry or faddishness. A huge part of what makes this text such a cultural touchstone is Clark's ambition in telling what amounts to six separate but interrelated stories - prior to 1901, Australia was (politically speaking) not a nation but a collection of colonies. Much has been written about the 'tyranny of distance' that characterises Australia's history and social development, however, Orstralia ponders the eruption of punk in each of the six states that grew out of these colonies and (on at least a subconscious level) considers the question: how did punk manage to happen in a country so large and isolated?

Orstralia began as a single volume but, as Clark's research took him deeper and deeper he eventually found himself six years into writing and with more than enough material for probably three books. I was curious how someone could plan and pull together something so audacious. 

Here's an interview with Tristan Clark to help answer this question! 

What drew you towards attempting something as ambitious as Orstralia?

I really began from a place of naivety so I'm not sure I grasped the ambitious of such a project. Nor was I cognisant of just how much of my non-working time would be consumed in the years to follow. I'd recently reread Inner City Sound by Clinton Walker which, while a cool artefact, was limited in its scope when documenting early Australian punk. I also read David Nichol's history of Australian rock 'n' pop, which kind of dismissed the post-70s wave of punk. It became apparent that there was need for a comprehensive history like that which already existed for most of the other nations who were early adopters of punk. Given I was working a loathsome customer service job at the time it seemed like something meaningful to undertake.

What was your primary method of collecting testimony and documenting these bands? How did you figure out which bands to focus on?

I initially just messaged people through social media and thankfully nearly all of them were receptive to an interview. My planning was minimal at best, though, so I had no real formula for what those would look like. I knew, however, that I didn't want them to follow a rigid question and answer format. Most interviews were conducted by phone, the remainder split between in-person and email. My method quickly evolved into fairly loose questioning that lent itself to more conversational interviews which yielded far more engaging responses.

I tried to keep the parameters of who would qualify to be in the book quite broad. As to which bands I sought to specifically focus on, in the beginning it was just whoever was willing to speak to me. As I collected more interviews it became a bit more targeted; some was for my own curiosity or fandom, but also acknowledging there was a set of groups that people would desire attention be given to. But I was very conscious of not limiting it to the most obvious bands and locations and desiring to see what I could excavate beyond that.

I was especially impressed that the book made 'space' for a range of different people... I feel like the intersectionality of punk subculture and LGBTQ identities is rarely looked at, so it was great to see this in the '90s volume. Did you set out to shine a light on the extra-marginalised within an already marginalised community?

It's no great revelation to describe punk in Australia as having been predominantly white, straight and male. I tried to balance the desire of acknowledging people who fell outside that characterisation with the hazard of it becoming disproportionate and not reflecting the reality. To be honest, I was actually a little anxious that the books would be critiqued for a paucity of voices beyond its dominant demographic so it's nice to hear that was not your impression. It would be great for the area of more marginalised people within Australian punk to be explored with serious, but as a white, straight male it is definitely for someone else to take up such a project.

Something else I've noticed is that you've managed to capture a few voices of people who've passed away in more recent times. I'm guessing this is one of the bittersweet things about spending six years working on such a project... was there ever a point where you felt like you could spend six more years on it? How did you decide when to stop?

Just from the people I interviewed, twelve had died by the time the books were released which, without looking at mortality statistics, seems an inordinate number out of two hundred-odd people. That sense of temporality maybe propelled me to get the project concluded both as a tribute and through desire to not have it remain unfulfilled. There was no specific target I sought to reach that would indicate the end, but instead a simple realisation that there was already way too much material. Having been about five years and an incalculable number of hours by then, I just wanted to have it finished and be able to move on with my life. Little did I know it would be a further few years of editing, collecting images, waiting, more waiting, and then the responsibilities that came before and after the realise. But I don't wish to portray all that negatively or as overly burdensome. I most;y loved the experience and it's been a thrill to see it come out and the response to it.  

What's the strangest or most surprising thing you uncovered in your research?

While writing the book I began a job where I work with a sizeable number of neurodivergent young people. From my interactions with them, I began to detect similar characteristics and traits in the people I was interviewing for the book - others even divulged their diagnoses to me. I still go to shows fairly regularly and I made the further connection that so many of the people who are currently involved in punk, or who I have known when they did so previously, have some form of neurodivergence, IE. Autism and ADHD. I'm unaware if someone has ever formally studied neurodivergence in punk but my hunch would be that it has quite a disproportionate presence.

I remember reading that Orstralia was originally planned as a single volume but that the size led to it being split into two. How difficult was this to do? Is there a neat division between the two eras?

The original manuscript ran to over 250 000 words. PM Press said it was fantastic and agreed to publish it but also that it needed to be half the length. Given that '90s Australian punk doesn't possess quite the same cachet overseas as the earlier stuff it seemed an obvious decision to excise it. I was then left with this entire unused section and the decision of what to do with it. I tried recording it as an audiobook/podcast but my pronunciation of every 'p' sounded like I was violently spitting into the mic (in a book where 'punk' occurs repeatedly) and kind of ruined it. After ignoring the issue for a while, I finally settled on self-publishing that section. In terms of a division between the two eras it does feel like there was something of an interregnum moving between the decades. The late '80s was the waning of the hardcore period and the number of bands seemed fewer. Then into the '90s you had the beginnings of what would become grunge and alternative which had something of a revitalising effect on punk given the resurgent interest in heavier, guitar-driven music.

Do you have plans to look at the '00s era at all?

I feel that maybe not enough time has elapsed - or at least since the 2010s - to justify writing that history just yet. Punk also became so big and diffuse post-2000 that it would be quite an arduous task to gather it all together. Given these two books consumed near eight years of my life I don't desire to continue. But I'd certainly love to see someone else take on that project one day. 

So what's next for you? Any other creative pursuits in mind?

I'm actually attempting to write a novel. Which if you informed my high school English teachers would likely humour them given my disinterest at the time. It's historical fiction based on the New Guard who were a right-wing paramilitary group in NSW in the '30s. Is possibly a terrible idea but is enjoyable at the least.

Thanks Tristan, I've enjoyed hearing about your process!

Thanks heaps for the interview.

To give you an idea of just how ambitious this text is, Clark interviewed something like 200+ people and originally delivered a manuscript to his publisher that was over 250 000 words. With Clark wrangling the text into two demarcated volumes, I was fascinated by the process that went into researching and shaping a narrative of a underrepresented segment of Australian music history, hence the interview above.

What doesn't come across in the interview or some of the other reviews I've seen of Orstralia is how sharply funny some of Clark's prose is. These are the sort of wryly funny descriptions that can only come from an intense familiarity with one's subject matter...

(On hardcore's development in the mid to late '90s) If Kubricks 2001 was almost here, people kickboxing each other to the backdrop of metallic hardcore wasn't a great reflection of four billion years of the evolutionary process.

and

(The band) Stinkpots made use of an improvised instrument that was either unfamiliar or fear-inducing to most punk sharehouses: a vacuum cleaner.

These are just two examples from a pair of books chock-full of such hilariously acute observations.

The most fascinating thing, perhaps, is Clarke's contextualised examination of each city's scene in three separate time periods. Clarke manages to create as close as a definitive analysis of Australian punk as I've ever seen. It's big but remarkably cohesive in its evaluation of how and why punk endured across this country's unique socio-geographic landscape in what amounts to six isolated colonies.

What could have been a simple paint-by-numbers history of some bands becomes something much more in Clark's hands, thanks no doubt to his meticulous research, personal experience, and respect for the history and what it means to those who lived it. Punk isn't just about music - it's explored here as a way of life, a death sentence, a salvation, and an expression of difference. It's a lot of different things to a lot of different people, and the depth of some of the interviews is quite moving. 

I can't undersell just how ambitious and impressive these two books are - in pulling together the diverse history of Australian punk and all it's branches prior to 2000, the author takes the reader on an informative, obscure, and often wild ride that includes murder, drug addiction, overdoses, ASIO, bikie gangs, Neo-Nazi skinheads, tragic missed opportunities, and often-violent interscene rivalries. 

But ultimately, it's also mostly quite uplifting in the way it drills down into the heart of why punk matters so much to those who played it and loved it. 

Orstralia Volume II can be purchased here. At the time of writing, Orstralia Volume I is currently already sold out.