(Australian 1972 - Current)
In 1975, Clapton had the critics on side, but Festival Records insisted on a hit single. However, it was the song they picked as a B-side called “Girls On the Avenue” that reached #1 on the national charts and put Clapton at the top of his class. Like Americans Jackson Browne and Bruce Springsteen, Richard Clapton developed a sound based on melodic rock while his lyrics were poetic musings on his state of mind or the state of the nation.
These two came together on the 'Goodbye Tiger album'; at that time Clapton’s most successful to date. The record was a new highpoint and as a result there was significant international interest in Richard as a recording artist. 'Goodbye Tiger' was described by music historian Ian McFarlane as “his most celebrated work, an album full of rich, melodic and accessible rock with a distinctly Australian flavour. It established Clapton’s reputation as one of the most important Australian songwriters of the 1970s….
The bizarre thing about the Australia Council grant, as he soon found out, was that recipient's weren't required to account for anything. He was finally asked for a report of the work he had produced in 1976 - in 1996. Fortunately for the Australia Council he wrote the set of songs for Goodbye Tiger with his grant.
Richard managed to find board with best friend Volker and his girl friend Andrea in their new apartment on Kaiser Wiolhem Strasse, in Berlin. It was here where he commenced work on his next album.
In Richard's biography, he recalls:
"When we arrived back at the apartment, I sat down and wrote 'Goodbye Tiger' all in one go. Dr Pepper called me 'Tiger', an old 'ocker expression of endearment. It's a real blokey nickname. The lyrics may sound fictitious and poetic but the words are virtually literal, and journalistic in their own way. The lyric was pretty much a transcript of our conversation back in David's hotel room a few nights before, my itching to be 'chasing those dolce vita times'." [The Dr Pepper that Richard refers to was a good friend from Australia, a true Beat Writer who opened a record store in Melbourne called Archie and Jugheads. Writing as Doctor Pepper, he was the most feared and loathed music critic in all Australia, but a great writer who wrote for Juke magazine]
"I already had the basic idea for "Deep Water", an invented story about Michael Hegerty's sister, Christine, down on Bondi Beach back in Sydney. Christine was a real ham, hence all the stuff about doing the foxtrot on the beach at night with the fireflies dancing in the promenade lights. I decided to marry that part of the song to an incident that had recently occurred on Palm Beach Road, after a drinking and pot smoking binge. I'd been toying with the idea of writing an opus that would encapsulate Sydney life within that seven minutes and it all just fell into place.
Richard was keen to stay in Europe, but back in Australia "Capricorn Dancer", which came out as a single in early 1977, looked like it was going to be a big hit. Festival's Phil Matthews implored him to come home and promote "Capricorn Dancer" and record one more album for the label. Clapton made it very clear that Richard Batchens and other people at Festival wouldn't mess with his music ever again. He was really starting to assert his independence at this time. Phil, an all-round great guy, kept sending Richard reassurances by telegram.
After a short stint in America, where he meet up with the Dingoes who were recording an album with Garth Hudson from The Band, Clapton finally decided to return to Australia and studio time was booked for him to start work on Goodbye Tiger.
Richard also recalls:
"We were to record "Deep Water" first up. I went into the studio with Michael Hegerty on bass, Kirk Lorange on guitar and a funny Greek drummer called Jimmy Penson. He'd played in a very successful blue/boogie band called Blackfeather, he was a damned good drummer and all round nice guy. Jimmy was like a hilarious parody of an archetypical Greek. He wasn't dumb, but he would ham it up just for everyone's amusement.
In between sessions, we were playing at the Station in Melbourne to a more than packed house. The gig was going really well but a grumpy Kirk Lorange kept screaming at Jimmy to 'lay back', musician talk for 'slow down the beat'. Jimmy had the dopiest look on his face as if he didn't understand. Every time Kirk would scream 'lay back', Jimmy would lean further and further back on his drum stool until he was on the verge of falling off the stage. Michael and I were laughing so hard we could hardly play. That's Jimmy playing drums on 'Deep Water' and 'Capricorn Dancer'.
Also in the studio with me were Cleis Pearce (on viola) and drummer Greg Sheehan, who'd both played in an 'acid jazz' outfit called Mackenzie Theory. It didn't seem likely, but they were a good fit. Diane also rejoined what was to become the notorious 'Goodbye Tiger' band.
Feuding erupted almost immediately between Richard Batchens and the band. Kirk and Michael joined together in one of several factions; they regarded themselves as the 'sane' members of the band. Greg and Cleis were Balmain hippies who survived on macrobiotic food and LSD. Richard Batchens's main ally was John Frolich, the engineer, a Palm Beach hippie and original New Age guy. I was just the pivot for everyone else to cling on to.
I was totally miserable. I desperately wanted to quit the album because I really didn't believe that we'd ever finish it-or survive. But I knew I'd relinquished the opportunity to relocate to America or to Europe, and was damned if I was going to let this bring me down.
How on earth we managed to record that album in that state still amazes me. Because I was short of material, I came up with an idea. 'Let's get totally trashed,' I announced, 'and I'll write a song "while-u-wait".' Why not?
Kirk was stoned and late for the session. By now Batchens and I were drunk; we started calling Kirk a 'pussy' and a 'wimp'. After threatening to quit there and then, Kirk reluctantly plugged into the powerful amp that I'd hired for him, a 100-watt Marshall. I sat in an isolation booth utterly wasted, and just started playing. I was so drunk, I started doing a Captain Beefheart impersonation, growling rather than singing. You can hear me bursting into laughter throughout the track, which was called 'I Can Talk to You'.
The intensity was incredible. Kirk detested Cleis and vice versa; the dogfight between these two for solos I think created one of the best moments in Australian recording history.
 |
| Kirk Lorange, Richard Clapton & Richard Batchens during 'Tiger' recording session, 1977 |
As the album progressed, things worsened, if that was possible. Batchens stayed drunk; I was either stressed or depressed. Batchens still insisted on humming 'hook' lines to Kirk Lorange, which caused enormous friction between them. Ironically, the guitar hooks' on 'Deep Water' and 'Lucky Country' were actually Richard Batchens's, so maybe his ideas weren't that bad.
Kirk and Richard's war climaxed during a night at the 'Pyrmont Hilton', where a scuflle broke out. Richard had to be restrained from wanting to seriously bash Kirk; he may have even landed a couple of punches. Kirk quit the album and I went to meet Jim White, the general manager of Festival.
'I can't work with Batchens,' I told him. I felt really awful, because I loved Richard in a very odd sort of way, but he was so out of control that he was sidelined. I set to work producing most of Kirk's guitar parts myself but Richard produced Kirk's solo on 'Deep Water', which he played while he was perched right up against the brand new $10,000 speakers in Festival's control room, his guitar literally five centimetres from the speaker cone. I shudder to think of the consequences had we blown up their new speakers. Sounds great, though.
Kirk and Richard's war climaxed during a night at the 'Pyrmont Hilton', where a scuflle broke out. Richard had to be restrained from wanting to seriously bash Kirk; he may have even landed a couple of punches. Kirk quit the album and I went to meet Jim White, the general manager of Festival.
'I can't work with Batchens,' I told him. I felt really awful, because I loved Richard in a very odd sort of way, but he was so out of control that he was sidelined. I set to work producing most of Kirk's guitar parts myself but Richard produced Kirk's solo on 'Deep Water', which he played while he was perched right up against the brand new $10,000 speakers in Festival's control room, his guitar literally five centimetres from the speaker cone. I shudder to think of the consequences had we blown up their new speakers. Sounds great, though.
Richard Batchens eventually talked his way back onto the project, and we closed off the studio from the outside world, including the band. We eventually brought in session players to apply the finishing touches.
The last stages of the album were intensely emotional.
Richard and I were still reeling from all the earlier dramas. I must say, in all fairness, that Richard did an excellent job with recording my vocals; no longer did he demand repeated takes.
I would never concede that those vocals are my best, but this is where I really learnt to sing in a recording studio. We ended the album as we'd begun: drunk. We'd drink in the afternoons and watch the sun go down over Pyrmont-and then we'd walk down to the studio and work until early morning.
I have always been frustrated about the lack of real insanity or 'pushing the envelope' in Australian recordings. My theory about the enduring popularity of Goodbye Tiger is that it was the first homegrown album that captured a journey to the outer stratosphere. All the anger and bitterness actually manifested itself into something quite passionate and beautiful. Don't ask me why; it just worked. It was worth the pain.
There was a lot going on elsewhere in my life during the few months of recording Goodbye Tiger (a marathon by local standards, incidentally. I was befriended by the legendary radio DJ Billy Pinnell, who introduced me to Stan 'the Man' Rofe, the music guru of 3XY. Billy so passionately believed in 'Capricorn Dancer' that together we gatecrashed the pub where Rofe drank in private.
Stan the Man was Melbourne radio; quite frankly, this little stunt could have seriously damaged both our careers. It was a very risky punt. But we managed to get Stan on side, and he single handedly made 'Capricorn Dancer' a big hit and set up the Goodbye Tiger album nicely. Even before the album appeared in October 1977, pre-orders had exceeded 35,000 copies, gold' status, a first for me."
The last stages of the album were intensely emotional.
Richard and I were still reeling from all the earlier dramas. I must say, in all fairness, that Richard did an excellent job with recording my vocals; no longer did he demand repeated takes.
I have always been frustrated about the lack of real insanity or 'pushing the envelope' in Australian recordings. My theory about the enduring popularity of Goodbye Tiger is that it was the first homegrown album that captured a journey to the outer stratosphere. All the anger and bitterness actually manifested itself into something quite passionate and beautiful. Don't ask me why; it just worked. It was worth the pain.
There was a lot going on elsewhere in my life during the few months of recording Goodbye Tiger (a marathon by local standards, incidentally. I was befriended by the legendary radio DJ Billy Pinnell, who introduced me to Stan 'the Man' Rofe, the music guru of 3XY. Billy so passionately believed in 'Capricorn Dancer' that together we gatecrashed the pub where Rofe drank in private.
[extracts taken from Richard Clapton's autobiography 'The Best Years Of Our Lives', Published by Allen & Unwin, 2014, p138-143].
Especially if it's your fourth album and you've just spent nine months on the road. But a good nosh-up always helps. "Especially if you like drinking" says Richard.
01 Down In The Lucky Country 3:42
Guitar and Vocals - Richard Clapton
Goodbye Tiger Link (421Mb)
Richard Clapton - A Star Is Born
by Anthony O'Grady.
(RAM Magazine Nov 18th, 1977 p.9).jpg)
Well, here we are at a record company reception for Richard Clapton's new album 'Goodbye Tiger', You can tell the record company have a lot of faith in Richard these days because the PR boys are pouring out the company scotch like profligates, and there are platters piled high with cold cuts and cheeses. Not only that, there's hints that hot dishes will be served later, plus actual champagne while the album is being previewed.
You can tell Richard is in high esteem with the nabobs of the music bizz too, 'cos they're all here. Receptions are similar in a way to concerts - the more people who turn up, the higher the standing of the artist. The throng have now reached that delicate point where they're just lubricated enough to be cheerful, but haven't yet tipped over the edge into frantic oblivion and wild partying. With a good sense of timing, the managing director asks everyone to down whiskey glasses and move around to the studio for champagne and Goodbye Tiger.
They've done out the studio a treat. What looks like a big tiger skin {but isn't} is pinned to the wall. Posters and pix of Rich abound - Two gargantuan speakers point down at waiting rows of blue chairs. Two projectors aim cocked and loaded slide mounts at white screens. Richard Clapton is in the studio control room guzzling a tube - He's not nervous mind you, he always jangles up and down on the spot. Well, maybe a little nervous.
Ritchie Batchens his producer is hurling himself around the room and seems slightly more controlled, and Suzie (Richard's dark-haired, vivacious, slender girlfriend) is smiling like she's actually relaxed- "Tell 'em to piss off," say's Richard as the throng gather outside. "Clear the studio, wipe the tape. - I want to redo the vocals."
"This album was recorded totally alcoholically" proffers Batchens peeling another tube. "That's the problem with bands today," says Richard. "They can't keep up with the drinking". It's very quiet in the control room, you can hear the gurgle of emptying cans. On the other side of the blanked out sound proofed glass though, a champagne party is starting to build momentum. Suddenly blam! the tape starts twirling and the speakers roar, drowning out anything softer than a Concorde Sonic Boom.
Goodbye Tiger has eight tracks: "Down In The Lucky Country", "Wild Child", "Goodbye Tiger", "I Can Talk To You", "Deep Water", "Out On The Edge Again", "Hiding From The Light" and "Wintertime in Amsterdam". The ones that blare forth most memorably are the songs I can remember from concert performances - "Down in the Lucky Country", "Wild Child" and "Deepwater". "Deepwater", the single, has a strange, stop-flow rhythm - a smooth melody interrupted with guitar slashes and sultry solo piano notes. "Lucky Country" is a foot tapper the whole way through and "Wild Child" is a sort of reggae/funk/country hybrid.
There's lot's of variation and change of pace on the album: "Goodbye Tiger" and "Wintertime in Amsterdam" flow slow and thick as foam from a chilled beercan. "I Can Talk To You" is a grunting, heavy-metalloid rocker conversation stopper, and "Out On The Edge Again" has the abrasive rasp and edge of a sandpaper throat, post-hangover.
No doubt there are lots of um.. lyrical implications under the initial effect of the music, but it's hard to get 'em on one high volume listen. Love the part in "Deepwater" though where Richard screams "sitting on the Palm Beach Road / I'm so drunk and the car won't go." Don't know its deeper meaning though. [Ed - Clapton later relates the story in his 2014 autobiography, p124-126]
The tape finishes and people actually down their champagne to clap and cheer. The throng bustles upstairs for hot eats and more drinks, the partying starts in earnest. Surrounded by happy drunks Clapton looks a lot happy and relaxed himself.
"Are we confident his album won't be lost in the Christmas rush?" answers a Record Company PR person. "We're confident it'll go gold in a few weeks - Richard Clapton is heading our entire Christmas promotion."
That's how it is at receptions; 'A Star Is Born every time'.
by Anthony O'Grady.
(RAM Magazine Nov 18th, 1977 p.9)
.jpg)
You can tell Richard is in high esteem with the nabobs of the music bizz too, 'cos they're all here. Receptions are similar in a way to concerts - the more people who turn up, the higher the standing of the artist. The throng have now reached that delicate point where they're just lubricated enough to be cheerful, but haven't yet tipped over the edge into frantic oblivion and wild partying. With a good sense of timing, the managing director asks everyone to down whiskey glasses and move around to the studio for champagne and Goodbye Tiger.
They've done out the studio a treat. What looks like a big tiger skin {but isn't} is pinned to the wall. Posters and pix of Rich abound - Two gargantuan speakers point down at waiting rows of blue chairs. Two projectors aim cocked and loaded slide mounts at white screens. Richard Clapton is in the studio control room guzzling a tube - He's not nervous mind you, he always jangles up and down on the spot. Well, maybe a little nervous.
"This album was recorded totally alcoholically" proffers Batchens peeling another tube. "That's the problem with bands today," says Richard. "They can't keep up with the drinking". It's very quiet in the control room, you can hear the gurgle of emptying cans. On the other side of the blanked out sound proofed glass though, a champagne party is starting to build momentum. Suddenly blam! the tape starts twirling and the speakers roar, drowning out anything softer than a Concorde Sonic Boom.
Goodbye Tiger has eight tracks: "Down In The Lucky Country", "Wild Child", "Goodbye Tiger", "I Can Talk To You", "Deep Water", "Out On The Edge Again", "Hiding From The Light" and "Wintertime in Amsterdam". The ones that blare forth most memorably are the songs I can remember from concert performances - "Down in the Lucky Country", "Wild Child" and "Deepwater". "Deepwater", the single, has a strange, stop-flow rhythm - a smooth melody interrupted with guitar slashes and sultry solo piano notes. "Lucky Country" is a foot tapper the whole way through and "Wild Child" is a sort of reggae/funk/country hybrid.
No doubt there are lots of um.. lyrical implications under the initial effect of the music, but it's hard to get 'em on one high volume listen. Love the part in "Deepwater" though where Richard screams "sitting on the Palm Beach Road / I'm so drunk and the car won't go." Don't know its deeper meaning though. [Ed - Clapton later relates the story in his 2014 autobiography, p124-126]
The tape finishes and people actually down their champagne to clap and cheer. The throng bustles upstairs for hot eats and more drinks, the partying starts in earnest. Surrounded by happy drunks Clapton looks a lot happy and relaxed himself.
"Are we confident his album won't be lost in the Christmas rush?" answers a Record Company PR person. "We're confident it'll go gold in a few weeks - Richard Clapton is heading our entire Christmas promotion."
That's how it is at receptions; 'A Star Is Born every time'.
This post consists of FLACs ripped from CD (my vinyl is a little worn) and includes full album artwork for both media, including label scans (thanks to Beergut for the rip).
Bonus tracks were sourced from the 'Highway One' soundtrack that Clapton contributed to in 1976, just before he worked on his Goodbye Tiger album.
Track Listing
02 Wild Child 3:32
03 Goodbye Tiger 5:42
04 I Can Talk To You 6:15
05 Deep Water 5:26
06 Out On The Edge Again 3:10
07 Hiding From The Light 4:36
08 Wintertime In Amsterdam 6:10
09 Highway One [Bonus Track] 3:47
10 Highway One #2 (Children Of The Sun) [Bonus Track] 5:15
11 Longshore Rider [Bonus Track] 2:55
12 Babe Rainbow [Bonus Track] 4:54
13 Capricorn Dancer [Bonus Track] 3:50
Band Members:
Bass Guitar – Michael Hegerty
Drums, Percussion – Greg Sheehan
Lead Guitar – Kirk Lorange
Viola – Cleis Pearce
Backing Vocals – Diane McLennan
Guest, Backing Vocals – Dalvanius
Guest, Guitar – Gunther Gorman
Guest, Keyboards – Tony Ansell
Guest, Saxophone – Tony Buchanan
Producer – Richard Batchens
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