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FARMER JOHN
I’m a goose on the loose an’ I won’t take no abuse
I got all kinds of use for a girl like
you
Goose
On The Loose - Jon Hayton and Dig Richards
1975
Jon Hayton and Digby Richards took their songs down to
Digby renamed Jon Hayton – FARMER JOHN, and the RCA album was called Rabbits Run after Jon’s wife Wendy, who was always referred to as the Rabbit. She is pictured on the back of the album with their four children. Two of the tracks; Fat Albert and Goose On The Loose were lifted off for a single and Fat Albert started to get airplay in June 1975. Farmer John didn’t exactly become a star overnight, but both Digby and Jon’s albums gave a boost to the rest of the year when the Digby Richards show took to the road for a few more tours.
Later in 1976 Jon was asked to write some songs for a John Laws documentary that was being made to celebrate the new enclosure that was built for the chimp population at Taronga Park Zoo. It seemed that Jon had found a new career as a credible singer/song-writer in the seventies, although we never forgave Dig and Jon for their monotone ‘Jay Jay Jeans it’s a wearhouse’ commercial.
Jon was finding it more and more difficult to play as well as he wanted to, as the arthritis continued to take its toll. He always had good chops on the guitar and the hardest thing was to think of things to play and find that your fingers weren’t fast enough to get around them any more. Consequently, Jon stayed on as Dig’s guitarist MD and harmony singer. Dig and Jon appeared many times on TV during the seventies and it was only fitting that they kept the relationship that they had begun in 1959.
Jon never really wanted to be famous. He couldn’t handle the responsibility of making appearances as Farmer John. He was much more at ease in the background, making someone else look good – just like he’d always done.
SURVIVING
IN THE SEVENTIES
Jon and his family moved to
Ray and I pounded out the latest top 40 songs for the rest of the
year at
One of my biggest thrills in 1976 was playing a week at a shopping
centre with one of my all time rock’n’roll heroes, Tommy Sands. The trouble
was, no one else in the place seemed to know who he was, except for his
In between building a boat, Michael Lawler took a permanent gig at Harbord Diggers and later moved into the Roxy Theatre Restaurant with Bernard King. Mr. Muckle was now a married man, which meant that he had to work every night and he wasn’t allowed to go away.
1977 started well for me when Dick Woodley reappeared and lined up a
few gigs at Georges River Sailing Club with Margaret Hooper, as well as another
luxurious P&O cruise for the family to
The Boomerang finally left
Michael in January 1977 and we all went around to his house and sang a few
rousing chorus of My Boomerang Won’t Come
Back. This was one of the novelty songs we always included in our show when
we were in
Michael: Well I’m the local witchdoctor son my name is Michael Rack.
Jon and Leon: Mike Rack?
Michael: Now tell me what’s your trouble boy?
Jon: My boomerang won’t bum cack!
Mr. Muckle took advantage of his newfound freedom and went to
Before Michael left for Hawaii we both went into Tin Pan Alley Recording Studios and put down a rock’n’roll album for Ian B. MacLeod (formerly, Adam from Teen Time days) with a couple of new whiz kid guitarists, Phil and Tommy Emmanuel. Phil entertained us all by drawing air into his arse and farting on cue. Later, Phil and Tommy were in such demand they were hardly ever out of the recording studio. Their early training on all those country tours was starting to pay off.
MORE POOH AND
LEW
True stories are never neat and tidy and it was March 1977 when I received a call for help from Lew Levisohn. Winifred Atwell was back in town, and he called a meeting at his unofficial office in the bar at the Sands Hotel, Narrabeen. Winnie had a lot of gigs booked till the middle of the year and they wanted me to look after the band. I wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, but Lew assured me that the guitarist and bass player were very good and he introduced me to his new roadie, Simon. Lew did his usual trick and offered me more money than I could refuse. “Simon will look after you and set up your drums,” said Lew, as he ordered another drink. Winnie was pleased to see me again and we started our first gig back at Sutherland Trade Union Club.
Lew was right about guitarist, John Conley and bass player, Justin
Di Leo; they were both excellent players. We began a string of more
Instead of our normal accommodation at the Chateau Commodore, we were upgraded to the Melbourne Hilton for a week when we were booked to play at a grocer’s convention called the Composite Buyers Party. This didn’t sound too exciting, but it turned out to be one of the poshest gigs we had ever played. Lew and I were picked by a limo and taken out to dinner the night before to discuss our requirements for the show. Hundreds of bottles of Grange Hermitage and German white wine were set up on the tables along with lobster, quail and dozens of other delicacies, all served by waiters in white tie and tails. It was good to get back to some quality feudic suppers again. John and Justin were very impressed, especially when I explained why it was called a feudic supper. “We always wondered about that,” said Justin, “We’d never heard of a feudic supper before we joined Winnie.”
Half way through the next tour with our old Irish friend, Brian
Doyle, Winnie became very sick and the rest of the tour was cancelled at
Gundagai. When Winnie recovered we flew off to
Sandy Scott was still one of the most popular acts in the club circuit and whenever I could, I managed to fit in with his busy schedule until I seriously considered bass player, Bob McKinnon’s, offer of a permanent job at the Illawarra Catholic Club at Hurstville.
Lew came up with an even more generous offer, and in July I found
myself at the Old Riverside Hotel in
“This is it,” I said to Lew, “After this gig in the
In the meantime I was stuck in the middle of Australia where
drinking booze seemed to be the most popular pastime. The Old Riverside Hotel
was situated on the banks of the dried-up
When it was finally time to go
home, we were greeted at
August with Sandy Scott included a little tour to Canowindra, Boorowa, Coolamon, Condobolin and Cootamundra, with Kevin McMullen on piano and Peter McLaughlin on bass. Scotty’s support acts were comedian, Paul Martell and singer, Barbara Foulds. It was a happy little troupe and we had picnics every day on the way to the next town. On the next Scotty tour of the NSW north coast we took away my old schooldays best friend, Johnny Ryan, on bass. Ryanny had a tough time while he was overseas and he became addicted to heroin while he was doing sessions with Carly Simons and Cat Stevens (Tea For The Tillerman). When he returned we were still trying to straighten him out, but a lot of damage had been done. Since he kicked the habit, he had now turned to beer in a big way and the fizzing sound of opening cans first thing in the morning was quite disturbing.
Because I recommended Ryanny I kept my fingers crossed every night, hoping that he would get through the show. By the time we got to Lismore our normally well-adjusted pianist, Kevin McMullen, was so home-sick he was going to jump off the local bridge. Luckily, Paul Martell kept us laughing and we made it through the tour.
When I returned from Scotty’s tours I couldn’t resist a yet another gig
with Winnie at Shellharbour Workers that included the old Zarsoff Brothers –
Mr. Muckle and Jimmy Doyle. It was just like old times. Winnie was thrilled and
entertainment director, Lew Sullivan couldn’t wait to come up at the end of the
show and say, “
Michael had just returned from
I was really tempted to rejoin Winnie now that Michael was back, so after a short holiday I joined Mr. Muckle and John Conley at the beginning of September.
I nearly didn’t make it. On the way back from holidays a semi-trailer threw up a rock, which broke the windscreen and severed a tendon on my left middle finger. Fortunately we found an orthopaedic surgeon named Dr. Tooth at Quirindi who sewed it back together again. When he plastered up my hand I had him leave an opening for my drumstick. Fired up with painkillers I managed to make it through Winnie’s show at Padstow RSL that evening. The show must go on and all that stuff.
It was a much freer arrangement with Lew now, and it suited everyone. We played on a gig-to-gig basis. If I wanted to go to Hobart Casino for a week with Scotty, Michael would arrange for a dep and if Michael had another gig I would get a dep to replace him. Missing one little gig was no big deal – the Wonderful Hatrack show still goes on and Lew and his accountant, Bruce Davey were still raking in the money.
When John Conley went off to play jazz with Galapagos Duck down at the Basement, Michael rang and said the next tour with Winnie would be OK because he had found a guitar player that could play the Rock Around The Clock solo note for note. “That’s not going to help much in Winnie’s show,” I replied, “who is he?”
“It’s Joe Travers,” said Michael. “He’s Normie Rowe’s MD and I was lucky to get him for this tour.” The tour consisted of a week in the NSW Riverina district and we would have to back a couple of support acts in the first half. Michael’s judgment of players was always reliable, so Joe Travers, Michael and I headed off for our first town at Mulwala. While we rested at the Motel we wondered who our support acts were. Michael looked out of the window into the car park. “Can you see anyone?” said Joe.
“No, there’s just a gimp and a rug getting out of a car,” said Michael.
Mr. Muckle always boasted that he could spot a rug (hairpiece) from a distance of a hundred metres. He had a way of spotlighting them from the stage with the reflective chrome plate on his Fender bass.
The rug turned out to be C&W singer, Colin Cooper, and the gimp
turned out to be comedian, Paul Martell. Paul had broken his leg the week
before and he was now limping around with a plaster cast. Normally, Lew
wouldn’t allow us to back other artists. He thought that it took away the
surprise of Winnie’s unique sound, but after he made an exception with Judy
Stone the month before in
The support acts made for a well-balanced show, and the Brazilian born Joe Travers (José) played great guitar. The country people loved Colin Cooper’s songs and Paul Martell’s impressions were hilarious. The audience thought his plaster cast was part of the act. Colin and Paul introduced us to the finer points of golf while we introduced Joe to the Winifred Atwell feudic suppers in Moolamein, Barham, Mildura and Wangaratta. On the last night Joe was paid the ultimate compliment when he was invited into Winnie’s dressing room while she wasn’t wearing her wig.
“You’re in!” said Michael to Joe. “She never lets anyone see her without a wig unless they’re part of the family.” Unfortunately, Joe had commitments with Normie Rowe and he couldn’t do the next tour, which turned out to be quite a dramatic adventure.
LEW AND NED KELLY’S LAST STAND
Michael and I had been to Hong
Kong before, but this was guitarist, John Conley’s first trip outside
“Nothing closes in Hong Kong,” said the worldly Muckle, “Just follow us.” As
usual, the whole city was alive and buzzing and John was all eyes until he was
approached by one of the locals. “You want nice girl?” said the pimp. John was
shocked. “No, not at the moment thank you,” he replied. John’s look of wonder
must have betrayed him as he was approached a couple more times during our
walk. “You want nice girl..? Very clean.” John was now becoming a little more
assertive. “No, not interested,” he said firmly.
“Ah, you like nice boy?” said the pimp. This
time John was outraged. “No, piss off you little turd!” It had been a long day
so we decided to continue John Conley’s tour of discovery the next day.
That night, I couldn’t resist
ringing John’s room. “Ah, Mr. Conley,” I said in my best Chinese accent. “You
want nice girl sent up to room.” John was very polite. “Err, no thank you.
Everything’s just fine.” He couldn’t wait to tell us the next day. “You won’t
believe this place,” said John, “They even offer to send girls up to your
room!” Michael and I looked suitably surprised and we set off for another
sightseeing tour up to the top of
The venue in
Ned Kelly’s Last Stand served
up Aussie meat pies and Fosters beer and now they boasted a Winifred Atwell
show every night for two weeks. Lew decided that one of the first things we
should do is go to the local tailor shop and get fitted up for some tailor-made
shirts and suits. The Indian tailors were very obliging and we spent quite a
few days visiting the shop for fittings and complimentary drinks.
It was Christmas day in
DECEMBER
29, 1977: A
frantic phone call came from the Indian tailor shop. “Come quickly, Mr.
Levisohn has collapsed in shop.” It sounded like Lew had another one of his
turns, so Michael and I ran down to the shop to investigate. By the time we
arrived they had already taken Lew away in an ambulance. We rang Winnie’s room
and organised a trip out to the hospital to see how he was. Lew had had many
similar mild heart attacks in the past, so we weren’t all that worried. Winnie
expected that he might have to stay in hospital for a few days. When we arrived
at the
Winnie’s eyes rolled back in
her head and we thought she was going to faint. There was nothing left to do.
Winnie was devastated and we were all in a complete state of shock.
Tom Parker came to our rescue
and took care of all the arrangements, and our last few shows were cancelled.
Our first class flight tickets had already been booked by the promoter in
Jakarta as part of the contract with the two venues, and we made arrangements
to fly out of Hong Kong as soon as possible. Winnie called us into her room and
said that she had decided that Lew would have wanted us to fulfil our contract
and play the Jakarta Hilton on New Years’ Eve.
When I was taken to my suite
in the Jakarta Hilton I couldn’t believe how luxurious it was. I immediately
rang Michael’s room. “Come and have a look at my room Muck, it’s fantastic.”
Michael cut me short. “Wait till you see my room!” he said. Before I went to
look at Michael’s room, I made my usual call to John Conley.
“Ah, Mr. Conley,” I said in my
best Oriental voice, “you like nice girl?” There was a slight pause as John
realised he was now in
The gag was up, and while we
made arrangements to visit each other’s rooms, a distress call came from
Winnie.
We all made our way to Winnie,
who was staying in the presidential suite. If we thought our rooms were good,
Winnie’s was enormous. It had two levels that were joined by a “Gone With The
Wind” type grand staircase in the middle. The giant lounge room was
appointed with everything imaginable, including a white grand piano.
Winnie was in tears. “It’s too
big for one person,” she sobbed.
Winnie was never given to
displays of affection in the past and it was quite an emotional moment as we
all formed a circle and hugged each other. The loss of Lew was starting to hit
home for all of us.
During our sound check we were
surprised to see that all the artists that were performing on New Years Eve had
to run their entire act for the government censors to see if their were any
offensive acts or words that would embarrass the attending government
dignitaries. This was also their way of receiving their own private concert.
When the opening acts were finished they requested to see part of the Winifred
Atwell show, as well. We set up and Winnie started to tinkle away at the
opening bars of My Way until she
suddenly realised that the whole exercise was ludicrous. She was visibly upset
by the charade and she stood up and said, “I don’t sing anything,” and stormed
off.
To prevent an international
incident, our promoter, Dave Wolf, had to placate the Indonesian government
officials, and after a lot of shrugging and pointing he convinced them that
everything would be ‘all right on the night’. We left him to it and went back
to make sure Winnie was OK.
Winnie was still in a state of
grief during our show that night and there were a few emotional moments where
we thought that she might lose it. We kept smiling across at her to keep up her
spirits and you could hardly hear a pin drop as the mood went from melancholy
reflection to pounding determination. It was almost as though there was a
reminder of Lew in every number we played.
Lew
was still causing trouble even after we all arrived home in
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