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Roger Rabbits with |
The neon above the door on Auckland’s Civic Theatre advertised the show started in an hour and a half. But in fact, a show was going down right now, right outside the theatre on the street. The place was pumping.
Two young women in cowboy hats, jeans and boots – one on guitar – were belting out their own brand, their own tunes – singing, yodelling and laughing.
“We’re stroppy, aggressive,
We’ll take on the world.
We’re untouchable, untouchable girls.”
It was 1981 and I didn’t know it, but I had just been introduced to Homemade Jam – now the Topp Twins, the Dames, a couple of gay, busking, twin sisters from down on the farm near Huntly. That alone sets them apart nicely. And we loved and celebrated this departure from the social norms of the time.
Boozy abandon
Outside the Civic, a couple of hundred Aucklanders, nicely oiled from Friday night after-work drinks, packed the Queen St pavement, which was as wide as Devonport Rd. They would get a later bus home when the Twins went home. And buoyed with boozy abandon, they tossed one-, two-, five- and 10-dollar notes into an open guitar case as Jools and Lynda, the irrepressible folk duo, played up to them. Busker business was brisk.
“I feel a new tractor coming on,” joked Lynda. Or a comment like that. Half a dozen cops there to keep the peace and the pedestrian traffic flowing gave up, melded into the audience and clapped and sang a song that would become a Topp Twins anthem.
“We live in a world that doesn’t care much,
You’ve got to stand up, you’ve got to have guts,
Oh yeah, we’re untouchable, but we touch,
We’re untouchable girls.”
Loved a good cause
I had no idea at the time what this song was about – neither did the other punters at this spontaneous, freebie Topp Twins street gig. They just wanted a good time, not a life lesson. But I would learn much later, this week in fact, that the song was a celebration of individuality, sexuality and activism. That’s their life’s work in a sentence, really.
The Topp Twins loved a good cause – they loved the power of protest, loved raising awareness, and used their music to express themselves, whether about Bastion Pt, a nuclear-free New Zealand, the Springbok tour, women’s lib or homosexual law reform.
They would sing provocatively about it, smile about it and invite us to think about it. And we did. I did. Like after surviving the infamous aerial flour bombing of the Eden Park Springbok tour protest in September 1981, I agreed with the twins that the tour was horribly wrong, should never have happened.
Silenced
But all through all those dreadfully divisive times the Topp Twins chirped on, using their music to keep us smiling, to spread messages and help heal deep wounds. We owe them.
But now the beloved comedic duo has been silenced. The twins are now just one twin. Dame Jools has died, aged 68, after a 22-year struggle with breast cancer. The country is worse off for it. It’s a sad time.
I always admired the way Jools and Lynda transcended the deep-seated intolerance of LGBTQ people and their rights, because I suspect I may have been insensitive at one time. The Twins would take their shows to the backwaters, the pubs, woolsheds, community halls and other places where conservative attitudes tended to be entrenched. And often those same people parked their prejudices and filled the venues. The Twins were a liberating force, and we loved them for it.
I met them. They were in the green room at an Auckland TV station early one morning, waiting to go on air. I just busted in for some celebrity worship. “You gotta a moment?” I asked.
Nosey questions
“What yuh reckon, Jools?” asked Lynda. “We don’t just give our time to any suit and tie that walks past.” “Quite right,” said Jools. “We must have consensus. What yuh think Lynda?”
This was followed by uproarious laughter, down-country firm handshakes and shoulder-slapping. It was humbling, because I was in the company of stardom and I had some really nosy questions. But they only wanted to talk about boring me. What?
They also mocked me mercilessly about my name. Hunter was uncommon back then. Not so now. I recently heard a woman call “Hunter” to a very ugly Affenpinscher/Chihuahua-cross dog. Bloody lovely!
Anyhow, I reminded “Jools”, her name wasn’t exactly mainstream. “But I’m not really a mainstream kind of girl,” she confessed.
Tickled
Then I pulled a rabbit out of the hat – told them I really liked their song Freedom and fired, not sang, some lyrics back at them.
“We’ll fight for our freedom, we will never be wrong,
We’ll just keep fighting, no matter how long.”
That tickled. They loved it.
I came away from their 2009 documentary Untouchable Girls believing I’d just seen something very intimate, uplifting and special. Where else in the world can they say a favourite homegrown act is a couple of lesbian, singing, yodelling, comedian twin sisters from down on the farm?
Jools left a message thanking New Zealanders for “being there for us”. No Jools – for 40 years you were there for us. The pleasure was all ours. Rest well and thank you.