3 months ago
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The plan was not to spend Saturday listening to a music countdown. But Jaydo texted our WhatsApp group when I was in aisle seven: “Guys, Hottest 100 of Australian songs just kicked off on triple j! #100 Screaming Jets Better.” I put down the bronzed pasta I was checking for protein content and got back to her.
Soon all of us on the Rat Chat were swapping lists, wondering if the Sunnyboys’ Alone with You is the only song ever with the words “really attractive” in it, how high Yothu Yindi’s Treaty would rank.
Triple J Hottest 100 Australian Songs countdown: Missy Higgins, Jimmy Barnes and Paul Kelly made the list, but Christine Anu missed out. Credit:
There was silence at my inclusion of Billy Field’s You Weren’t in Love with Me. Mia broke it: “Will the Js crowd understand the toe-tapping beauty of Tucker’s Daughter?!”
From there, even with footy on, the countdown had us in its grip. I made an orange cake to These Days. Hung washing to Under the Milky Way. Had Throw Your Arms Around Me remind me of the long-ago day interviewing Mark Seymour at his Melbourne place while his girlfriend wafted about in an apricot nightie.
By the time Scar by Missy Higgins floated in at number four – thrilling every woman who knows it as the backing track to late-night conversations with themselves – I’d cried a fair bit from joy and memories, and we were a nation undone.
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In the wash-up, I was less interested in the Veronicas debate (other than to say 4ever is their best song) and fascinated by what the countdown really revealed: that Australians reckon we’re chill AF or tough as nails, but we’re actually marshmallows.
Sentimental as hell.
For all the Millennial and Gen Z representation – Tame Impala, Gang of Youths – the list was thick with Farnesy, Mossy, Crowded House. Some songs just won’t die. Not just because they’re bangers. Because they’re time machines.
They take us back to when we first heard them. When we were young, hopeful, heartbroken, hungover, in love.
They’re Red Earth eyeliner and Body Shop sandalwood oil. They’re wedding dance floor chaos and long car trips with kids asleep in the back. They’re the parenting years when you still thought you knew what you were doing.
The mighty Chisel was the only act to go back-to-back. What does that say? Flame Trees is every Australian missing something when Barnesy’s voice cracks on “kids out driving Saturday afternoon.” Khe Sanh? That’s the party where everyone stood in a circle, arms slung over shoulders, yelling lyrics they barely understood, feeling ace.
The slow-burn swagger of Baby I’ve Got You On My Mind makes you want to lean against the doorframe, staring at the garden, thinking about someone you maybe should have fought harder for. No Aphrodisiac is a beautiful bruise, proving the best songs are about the worst feelings.
Berlin Chair takes us back to when indie rock felt like a secret handshake. And Tomorrow makes us remember how it felt to be young and mad and thinking no one understood.
So. It sparked a lot of sentimentality. But the list also sparked a great question: what is an Australian song? What defines us, we descendants of convicts and pioneers and migrants, living on a continent constantly trying to kill us with fire and flood and Clive Palmer?
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Other countries might believe we’re all We Can’t Be Beaten and Beds are Burning political pub rockers. Well, we are, but the list showed our vulnerable underbelly.
Basically, Australians are obsessed with love songs and heartbreak anthems about longing, belonging and the bittersweet passage of time. We’re loyal. We’re nostalgic. We’re deeply uncool in an unreal way.
We love a big chorus. We remember lyrics we haven’t heard since 1994. We still argue about whether Tenterfield Saddler should’ve made the cut. And we’ll back Unguarded Moment until eternity.
Gaz from the Rat Chat crew messages us days after the countdown: “I’ve made a playlist with everyone’s Top 10. To be debuted on our next roadie.” Which is an overnighter to see Crowded House and The Church! Ha. What’s the bet we cry or hold hands at some point?
Kate Halfpenny is founder of Bad Mother Media. Her new book, Boogie Wonderland, is out now. Subscribers can buy a copy from Booktopia for the discounted price of $24.26 plus postage with the code WONDERLAND10. This offer is available until August 31.
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