THE NAKED CITY – REMEMBERING RHUBARBS

THE NAKED CITY – REMEMBERING  RHUBARBS

As the recently formed Nightlife and Creative Sector Advisory Panel (an initiative of the City of Sydney Council), meets to resurrect Sydney nightlife, it’s perhaps a good time to look back to a previous era – where some valuable lessons may well be learned. I’m talking about Sydney in the late 1960s where police and political corruption was rife but the door was wide open for any budding night club entrepreneur – free of many of today’s stifling regulations.

Whilst Kings Cross was booming, full of randy American soldiers here on their R’N’R from the Vietnam War, the CBD and Oxford Street were relatively quiet. The more mature crowd and the Yanks were well served in Abe Saffron’s KC night spots but clubs catering for young folk were thin on the ground.

Music was entering a new era with British beat and American soul and Sydney’s first import record shops, such as Edels, were offering much sought after vinyl from the UK and USA. Yet the opportunities to hear local bands, playing blues, soul and r’n’b were few and far between. The pub rock sound that defined Australian popular music in the 70s and 80s was still years away.

During that late 60s period a number of mainly short lived venues began to appear including Beatle Village in Oxford Street and the Bowl and the Beach House in Sydney’s CBD. A Darlinghurst club called Union Jack’s catered almost exclusively for UK immigrants although Australian born girls were also admitted. In a darkened lane off Liverpool Street, across the road from the Sussex Hotel, a touch of Carnaby Street came to Sydney with the opening of Rhubarbs, a large basement venue festooned with old vintage lounges and assorted bric a brac.

The brainchild of Jim Carter, who had started the Troubadour folk club in Edgecliff, Rhubarbs featured both live bands and a DJ spinning soul and blues sides. Groups included The Starving Wild Dogs, The Sect and Phil Jones & The Unknown Blues but the best known combo to play there was Python Lee Jackson, fronted by the late Mal McGee. Their sound was sixties beat combined with American soul, driven by a squeaky Farfisa organ and the cutting guitar of Mick Liber.

Like the Union Jack club, Rhubarbs was also a magnet for young UK immigrants, the first wave of local Mods, although there was no exclusivity and the venue attracted as diverse a crowd as Sydney at the time could offer. I can’t remember what the admission price was back then but it can’t have been more than one or two dollars. An entire band would often earn less than $50 a night for playing three or four sets.

At the Central end of the city another club titled John Henry’s featured a similar style of music, although there were no live bands playing. This was a hangout for the Sharpies, a tribal group known for their distinctive casual dress and propensity for violence. The Sharpies and the Mods of Rhubarbs were bitter enemies and often clashed in incidents throughout the CBD.

On one particular night a large gang of ‘Sharps’ from John Henry’s descended on the lane outside Rhubarbs. They were soon confronted by a group of Rhubarbs regulars, predominantly young and tough English immigrants and a bloody pitch battle took place before the invaders were repulsed. Amongst the Sharpies was a then teenage Graham ‘Abo’ Henry, later to become one of Sydney’s most feared underworld enforcers along with his buddy Neddy Smith.

Not long afterwards a young Rhubarbs regular, waiting for a taxi with his girlfriend in nearby George Street was attacked by a group of Sharpies and kicked to death. Whether this kind of violence affected the eventual demise of the club is open to question but the vibe inside the venue was always friendly and upbeat.

Compared to today’s live music clubs however, one rather significant thing was missing. There was no alcohol!. Sure punters juiced up at the nearby Sussex and United States hotels beforehand and a few concealed a flask in their back pocket but there was nothing like the binge culture of today. As long as you looked relatively ‘adult’ you could go to Rhubarbs when you were still at school and many of the patrons were no older than fifteen or sixteen. ID’s weren’t required. Would it ever happen today?

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