Heading for the edge of time, heading for the thrills of the golden age
The strangeness of the TV evening news in America carrying a story about shark attacks at and near Sydney’s Manly Beach stayed with me the other evening, and then the news of Rob Hirst’s death – expected and yet horrible in its finality – flooded my social media feed. And immediately I thought of the opening to my Songwriters Speak chapter on Rob and his Midnight Oil co-writer, Jim Moginie.
Was it the natural world reacting viciously to the painful ending to such a beautiful life? A shark attack at Manly? Seriously? Maybe Rob would have chuckled at the craziness of it, even though the horror of it was also front of mind. Or maybe that was just my weary mind connecting dots because of how my mind can work.
Crazy mind aside, it took me a long time to get to sleep because I was filled with a mixture of sadness at his loss and gratitude for having known Rob through my work and network of music friends and colleagues, having had enough times in his company to know that his wide smile and warm hug the last time we saw each other were heartfelt, and feeling bewildered by the idea that someone so very alive, even in his decline, could just be extinguished.
These things I write on this site are very subjective. If I meander into actual criticism in that detached style of some writers, it is rare and surprises myself, because that is not how I want to write here. It’s Debbie doing music, it’s deeply personal, and so this will not be one of those encyclopaedic encapsulations of all Rob did – and there was so much he did – and of Midnight Oil’s unique and extraordinary legacy in Australian music and on the world stage. That is a given, and I’ve said it as simply as it needs to be put. This is just me paying tribute to an artist that mattered to me and to millions of others.
Of course, Rob cannot really be extinguished, even if his physical breath has stopped. The magnificent tributes, in tone and volume, are testament to his impact and that will never, ever die. Not only is there the outpouring of grief and love from his Australian music contemporaries and the media and fans and friends, but internationally this has been news. Rob was an astounding, exciting and incomparable drummer, an incredibly powerful singer, and a beautiful songwriter. There have been several legendary singing songwriting drummers from Helm to Henley to Starr to Taylor to Collins to Grohl and more, but few with the fierce velocity and intensity of that drum-beating heartbeat that all who talk about Hirst have referred to. Just watch any of a number of clips of Rob with the Oils – this one for example – and you will get what we mean.
Being described as “the beating heart” and “the driving force” of Midnight Oil was both accurate and a too-easy summation of the dynamics in that band because they were so much more collaborative than that, but Rob was the guy up the back who was always the most upfront. When I interviewed him and Jim in 2003 they were less than a year into the band’s indefinite hiatus due to Peter Garrett’s career diversion into federal politics – in fact at that stage they were presuming the band was over for good. So underlining their roles as the band’s chief songwriters seemed important and my conversation with them well timed. Their genuine love for Pete was juxtaposed with their frustration at being “ghostwriters”. They had often been in service to the perception that their lead singer had written most of what he had sung. With the passing of time and the media’s intense focus on the band’s legacy, especially when they reunited and carried on for The Great Circle tour, it was less ambiguous just what genius creators Hirst and Moginie always were.
Other than the Rob and Jim chapter in my book, I also interviewed Pete about songwriting for a Sydney-centric magazine tied to the media coverage I was getting in 2005. After that I had not aspired to write about Midnight Oil again as so many others could do it better, I felt. But I have these photos I took when I saw the band in Los Angeles at the Greek Theater in 2017 that I had never posted, and kept meaning to, as it was the last time I saw them, having missed out on the ultimate farewell tour they did in Australia later on. Ironically, the last time I did see Rob, although we didn’t connect for a conversation, I was sitting behind him and other Oils members at the final Cold Chisel concert in Sydney on their last tour. These monumental Australian bands have still been giving their all, whether on stage or watching each other in the audience with tender respect and shared history, which we who were there in those times decades ago are glad to just bear witness to now.
But my history with Midnight Oil is not that of a die-hard fan who goes way back to the Royal Antler Hotel on Sydney’s Northern Beaches. As with Nick Cave and certain other artists from my younger years, I missed the moments, as I was preoccupied with other kinds of music and other matters of life back in the late ‘70s and through the ‘80s. It was my work at APRA-AMCOS and then writing Songwriters Speak that caught me up, because one does not sit down with Nick Cave or the guys from Midnight Oil without being highly educated in their work and conversant in the broader context of their significant contributions to cultural and, in the Oils’ case, political, social and environmental landscapes. Then with epiphanizing force, one is struck by how brilliant it all is, musically, lyrically, thematically and as living, breathing, heaving performance. As I was indeed struck. (Ah well, it took me more than 20 years to properly hear Led Zeppelin, too. At least I did.)
We covered all of that cultural/political/social/environmental impact in our conversation at Manly Beach but always in relation to the songwriting, for the band as well as for their individual projects, which in Rob’s case were many, and over the ensuing years increased prolifically. He was still writing and recording right up until shortly before his death. The many obituaries can detail that for you and I recommend reading the pieces by the two great Andrews in Australian music journalism – Andrew McMillen in The Australian and Andrew Stafford in The Guardian. Also the tribute from Sean Sennett, who crossed over from writing about music to writing music, and wrote and recorded and performed music with Rob and called him his best friend, as did many others whose tributes I’ve been reading. See links at the bottom of this post.
As for me playing catch up, I only saw Midnight Oil live two or three times over the years, and I saw Rob in The Backsliders, Hirst & Greene (I adored the Stealth of Summer album that duo recorded), and probably a few other gigs he did, including him singing at one of my book launches. I wish I had seen him play with my friend Rick in The Ghostwriters, I wish I had seen a lot more gigs Rob did and that I had run into him more often. I cannot boast a deeper relationship than that of a music person who was fortunate to connect with him over some years and could reach out by email to say, “Hey Rob, I’ll be at the Greek Theatre show in LA and would love to say hi afterwards if that’s possible”, and then receive an email back from him with all the Oils cc’d in, saying there would be after-show passes waiting for me at the box office. And then when I picked them up, there were two house seat tickets included, which I had not expected, upgrading me to such a good position for the show. Hanging out after with him, Jim and the various hangers-on, LA style, was so much fun. It was a splendid night that I was grateful to be a part of.
And if Peter Garrett’s t-shirts weren’t great enough (see the photos) then seeing the glorious reaction from the audience – who cannot possibly have all been Australians – was electrifying. Oh how pertinent those t-shirts are right now, as will ever be the SORRY suits from more than 25 years ago.
As I watched the Greek Theatre show and listened to the clarity of the songs live in one of my very favourite venues, I thought back to all the things Rob and Jim had told me about the songwriting. My favourite Midnight Oil song is such a deeply Australian song, and yet its resonance on this night, sonically, socially, felt profound to me.
I wish I had been to more Midnight Oil concerts, that I had embraced them as passionately in my early twenties as I did the Sherbet “Tonight Will Last Forever” reunion/farewell tour, but, well, despite being a uni student, I wasn’t following the pack. Having caught up in the new millennium through professional endeavours, I am glad, very glad, that my last live experience of these guys was with Bones Hillman on stage with them. That the longest version of the Midnight Oil rhythm section is entirely now gone, both from cancer, both way too young, just feels absurdly awful. But it is what it is – our music heroes are leaving us. I was only just lamenting with my Eagles fan friends over the ten-year anniversary of Glenn Frey’s death the day before Rob’s death…
And we cannot kid ourselves that the steady progression of legends leaving will stop. This is life as we age, and it will always lead to some kind of ending.
It’s time to claim that sweet release
Let it go, let it go.
That first time I met Rob and Jim and Pete at the 75th anniversary celebration of APRA at the 2001 APRA Music Awards, for which we had devised a “Ten Best Australian Songs” campaign and Midnight Oils’ “Beds Are Burning” was the number three song, I was wrangling talent for photos and whatever else I needed to do in my PR guise. I had worried that the Oils guys would be dismissive or difficult, but was taken back by how sweet and humble and happy they were.
Two years later when I interviewed Rob and Jim in Manly overlooking the ocean, after three hours of talk and some photos, we all said goodbye, and before he walked out of the room, Rob looked back at me and said, “You ask good questions!” I still remember how much that impacted me, hearing it from someone so accomplished who was always supportive and acknowledging of others’ talents and achievements. And how it exemplified the way that with Rob, you were always seen.
I was able to ask Rob questions again on one or two festival panels, but making that impression on him the first time was probably what kept the connection going, what encouraged him to generously agree to give the launch speech for Songwriters Speak at the Byron Bay Writers Festival, and respond to my occasional outreach so kindly and warmly. He was as beautiful as his work and I don’t care if it sounds mawkish to say that I am so grateful that I knew him at all.
When life veered me back to Sydney for a time, it enabled me to see Rob at Jim’s Silver River book launch two years ago and get that incredible hug, and to see him speak at the world premiere of the Midnight Oil documentary The Hardest Line at the Sydney Film Festival, and sit behind him at that Cold Chisel concert. Small fragments in time of a much longer experience of knowing someone whose presence will always be felt.
These shall not be forgotten years.
Thank you, Rob.
Andrew McMillen in The Australian
Andrew Stafford in The Guardian
Rob’s 2025 video interview with Tracee Hutchison
Listen here to a panel conversation I did with Rob Hirst and Andrew Stafford at the Byron Bay Writers Festival.
And if you are one of the few Midnight Oil fans who still does not have a copy (and Oils fans have been the most supportive of this book), you can get Songwriters Speak here.
19 August 2017, Greek Theatre, Los Angeles, CA
DEBBIE DOES MUSIC 