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A real loss
Apr. 2nd, 2012 11:30 pmThis post contains names and images of deceased people.
Jimmy Little died today.
Back around the turn of the millennium, I had an interview with him. He had a bunch of other media commitments on the same day, and a photo shoot with Kylie Minogue. His 'people' ushered me down a hallway towards a meeting room where we would hold our interview, along the way they stopped and knocked on a door. Jimmy Little opened the door, smiling.
'Sorry,' he said, 'I'm just running a bit late …'
'That's all right,' said the publicist. 'This is Brammers, your next interview.'
He looked at me, he grinned. He opened the door wider. Inside was Kylie Minogue. She looked up at him, then out at me. I looked at her, she looked at me. Both of us had faces that conveyed something along the lines of: 'Yay for teeny tiny chicks!' We both grinned, too.
Jimmy smiled at everyone and announced, 'I feel so tall!'
Most interviews are exercises in ego, but talking to Jimmy Little was like talking to your favourite senior relative. He talked about how much he loved his wife, and how important it was to have a partner you could like and respect. He said that it was pure good luck on his part that led to him being the first indigenous Australian to have a number one single, but that he had felt it a privilege and a gift that he was then able to work for various indigenous causes, including supporting Aboriginal health and indigenous musicians.
At the end of the interview, I didn't want to leave. He gave me a hug and told me to be good, and to work hard and have faith and everything works out if you do.
Jimmy Little was a quiet, gentle and generous man whose activism was made all the more powerful by the fact it was as soft and inexorable as a stream. In an age of pop stars who wave their political actions in front of the world and demand attention for them, a small man with a soft voice (that was big when he sang) and a guitar encouraging his people to make sure they take care of their health and supporting education and opportunity throughout communities around the country was never going to grab the headlines, but I bet he made just as much difference to the world as Bono ever could.
Most of you have probably never heard of him, which is a great shame. Here are a couple of his songs that I particularly love, they're both worth listening to. If you're into 1960s' music, check out his Twisting the Night Away, Baby Blue, or his big hit Royal Telephone.
This is his beautiful rendition of The Triffids' Bury Me Deep in Love, sung with Kylie.
And this is him singing Cattle and Cane, one of the best songs written by the Go-Betweens. Good bye, Jimmy. Thank you.
Jimmy Little died today.
Back around the turn of the millennium, I had an interview with him. He had a bunch of other media commitments on the same day, and a photo shoot with Kylie Minogue. His 'people' ushered me down a hallway towards a meeting room where we would hold our interview, along the way they stopped and knocked on a door. Jimmy Little opened the door, smiling.
'Sorry,' he said, 'I'm just running a bit late …'
'That's all right,' said the publicist. 'This is Brammers, your next interview.'
He looked at me, he grinned. He opened the door wider. Inside was Kylie Minogue. She looked up at him, then out at me. I looked at her, she looked at me. Both of us had faces that conveyed something along the lines of: 'Yay for teeny tiny chicks!' We both grinned, too.
Jimmy smiled at everyone and announced, 'I feel so tall!'
Most interviews are exercises in ego, but talking to Jimmy Little was like talking to your favourite senior relative. He talked about how much he loved his wife, and how important it was to have a partner you could like and respect. He said that it was pure good luck on his part that led to him being the first indigenous Australian to have a number one single, but that he had felt it a privilege and a gift that he was then able to work for various indigenous causes, including supporting Aboriginal health and indigenous musicians.
At the end of the interview, I didn't want to leave. He gave me a hug and told me to be good, and to work hard and have faith and everything works out if you do.
Jimmy Little was a quiet, gentle and generous man whose activism was made all the more powerful by the fact it was as soft and inexorable as a stream. In an age of pop stars who wave their political actions in front of the world and demand attention for them, a small man with a soft voice (that was big when he sang) and a guitar encouraging his people to make sure they take care of their health and supporting education and opportunity throughout communities around the country was never going to grab the headlines, but I bet he made just as much difference to the world as Bono ever could.
Most of you have probably never heard of him, which is a great shame. Here are a couple of his songs that I particularly love, they're both worth listening to. If you're into 1960s' music, check out his Twisting the Night Away, Baby Blue, or his big hit Royal Telephone.
This is his beautiful rendition of The Triffids' Bury Me Deep in Love, sung with Kylie.
And this is him singing Cattle and Cane, one of the best songs written by the Go-Betweens. Good bye, Jimmy. Thank you.
