March 29, 2005
Goodbye to Paul Hester
I should warn you that during the following attempt at discussing Paul’s passing in greater depth than my earlier post, I’m going to be rather clumsy and inarticulate. It’s hard to find the words to create a worthy tribute to Paul Hester and to aptly describe the feelings of most people I know who have been moved by Paul’s passing, but I just felt I had to write something more about his death. After all, how can you claim to have a website about Australian pop culture and not write something to honour the life of someone who was so much a part of the Australian cultural landscape? So forgive me if I ramble on a bit, and don’t really get to a point. I just wanted to share a few thoughts with you all, especially since every conversation I have had with anyone over the past two days has managed to find its way back to the subject of Paul’s suicide. Clearly, it’s an event that has been keenly felt by all of us, perhaps more than we ever could have imagined it would be.
I had always felt a real sense of affection for Paul. How could you not? He always seemed so playful and eager to entertain - the quintessential Aussie showbiz larrikin. One of the earliest crushes I can recall having on someone in the pop world was finding Paul utterly gorgeous in the Something So Strong video clip when I was six or seven. Watching the clip again last night during the MusicMax tribute to Paul, I found myself still grinning goofily when his face popped up on the screen. I didn’t know very much about him, other than his Crowded House past, the fact he had his own show for a while called Hessie’s Shed, and that he now hosted the MusicMax sessions on Foxtel. And yet I still felt absolutely shattered when I read late Sunday night that Paul had been found in a Melbourne park.
Everyone I know has felt much the same after hearing of Paul’s suicide. But I’ve got to admit - as much as I always liked him, I was a little startled by just how much grief people (me included) seemed to be feeling after hearing of his passing. I began to think - why is that? I mean, this seems more than just grief over the death of a good bloke who was in a band - people are genuinely mourning someone who they only really knew from a distance.
I think a part of the reason Paul’s death has hit everyone so hard is because no one could ever have imagined we’d lose a member from a band like Crowded House to something as tragic as suicide. I mean, it’s not as though Paul was the drummer from one of those hard rockin’ bands whose repertoires only seem to include songs which address the misery of human existence. And hell, the members of Crowded House were supposed to stay a part of our lives till they grew old gracefully - or possibly adorably disgracefully - and we’d have plenty of time to be reminded of the joy their music brought us over the years.
The idea that someone from a band like Crowded House could succumb to something as terrible as depression, well - we just never expected it. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think Crowded House were a happy-go-lucky joyful band at all. Their songs were often about the darker aspects of life - but they didn’t do it in the clichéd “I hate everyone, my life is awful, I want to die” rock sense. Somehow, when Crowded House sang about discovering “wherever there is comfort, there is pain”, it was a beautiful sort of melancholy. One that resonated in every person listening who had felt disheartenment and sadness, and managed to carry on, quietly coming to terms with the fact that even the darker emotions we feel have their place in shaping our lives and our souls.
You know that scene in Sliding Doors, where John Hannah’s character makes a joke to Gwyneth Paltrow about how the Beatles should be called the Featles, since all British people are born knowing the lyrics to their songs? Well, as far as I’m concerned, that’s what Crowded House has become to a generation of Australians. Their music has been the soundtrack to our lives, pardon the cliche, and even though the band split up years ago, none of us who grew up hearing the music of Crowded House have forgotten the importance of the group.
At WaveAid, when Tim and Neil Finn performed several acoustic versions of old Crowded House songs, it was astounding to look around and see people from all walks of life, people with completely differing tastes in music, all standing side by side and singing every word proudly and clearly. Every song was an anthem. Nearly fifty thousand people were in the stadium that day, and I swear to God, every single person there knew every single word to every single song. I doubt any of the audience members arrived at the concert with a realisation of just how deeply they’d soaked up the group’s music over the past twenty years.
So to lose someone from a band which clearly means so much to the Australian public, and under such heart-wrenching circumstances, well - it’s no surprise we’re gutted. We’ve lost a talented, likable, wonderful entertainer and from all accounts someone who was a generous, kind and loyal friend. And his loss was always going to be felt deeply by the people who knew him best, regardless of whether he was a member of one of Australia’s most revered musical groups, or a loving dad from Melbourne who worked as a plumber to make ends meet. Paul’s death isn’t just worth grieving due to the band he was in a decade ago, its worth grieving because a good person has left us, his friends and his family and it didn’t have to be that way.
But from what I can tell, the country isn’t just mourning a great bloke who died under tragic circumstances. In a way, we’re also mourning a loss of innocence. Depression managed to bring down someone we always assumed would be around, smiling and laughing and joking with us. Like a lot of you, I’ve witnessed the effects of depression on people. Suicide has affected my life personally, and also the lives of people I love dearly. And it’s not the first celebrity suicide that music fans from this generation have witnessed from afar - Kurt Cobain’s death springs immediately to mind, although as awful as it sounds, I don’t think anyone really expected Kurt to make it through the darkness. However, this time it was one of our own. On our shores. Someone we held close to our hearts, because he was a part of something special to us, something which gave us the background music to so many of our memories - good and bad. This time, it’s really hit home - no matter how successful, rich, famous or liked you are, depression can bring you to your knees. It took hold of a well-loved entertainer and drove him over the edge.
And now we’re all feeling the sorrow together - perhaps not just for Paul, but for everyone we ever knew who experienced feelings of desolation and despair in their lives, and couldn’t find their way out of the blackness.
Once again, rest in peace, Paul. You will be greatly missed. Thank you for everything.
To finish - here are some links related to depression (via Jellyfish) -
Posted by Jess at March 29, 2005 03:03 PM— Filed under Common
Comments / Trackbacks (URI)
‘I should warn you that during the following attempt at discussing Paul’s passing in greater depth than my earlier post, I’m going to be rather clumsy and inarticulate.’
No, don’t be so condescending towards yourself, for clumsy and inarticulate, read on here. I have this (possible) misplaced affection towards the Crowdies. In the 70’s & 80’s I was an huge fan of the Enz and was pretty pissed off they didn’t achieve universal greatness they richly deserved. So I was always absolutely stroked to watch offshoots like Phil Judd’s film/tv stuff, Tim Finn’s solo work, the Swingers, Schnell Fenster, Enzo, Noel Crombie (current involved with Spicks & Specks)and even Deadstar & Betchadupa. Tim Finn seemed like the vulnerable bloke who’s future we were all fearful of, until the Crowdies came along. Even when the Crowdies broke-up, they never strayed too far from our affections. Which is why so many of us feel so bewildered by Pauls actions. As a old Enz fan I feel as if I’ve been given a right kick in the guts. Well that’s my POV.
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Here is the irony about depressive illness and people who live with it. You would never know that someone is depressed unless they told you because generally speaking, they will over compensate by being gregarious and having a public personality that shields the world from viewing their very private despair. My apologies for the generalising although if you look at other public ‘comedian’ types you can often see the sadness in the clown (Jim Carey, Robin Williams etc).
Beautiful work Jess. XXX
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Beautiful work Jess.
i’m not afraid to say I welled up when I heard the news, I swore a bit, ate some chocolate and had a little cry..
Jess, your so on the money with the call about Crowded House being the soundtrack to many Australian lives, My dad is 68 is a rather posh, political, non feelings man, I spoke to him at lunch and told him of the news he looked visibly upset and just said ‘Fuck, why do all the great ones have to go’
RIP Hessie.
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I so glad you posted this Jess. It really is how a lot of us are feeling and thinking.
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brilliant
Thankyou for writing this.
God, I’m just gutted, and I don’t even really know why. I mean, I do, but I wouldn’t have thought I’d feel it like this, you know?
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Thanx for posting this Jess. I got goosebumps reading this post. You’ve done a brilliant job of capturing how many of us feel about this tragedy.
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somethin so strong, it could carry us away
Jess, that was brilliant.
only someone with a heart of stone or a terrible elitist streak could ever deny the impact of crowded house on our cultural landscape. i can’t think of another band that so completely informed by formative love of music - it was just everywhere when we were growing up. it’s like how deeply losing micheal hutchence cut people here - INXS and crowed house might have had their chessy moments, but they took australian music to the world, and then roundly conquered it. the world’s a poorer place.
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Black & Blue
- your link to Beyond Blue might need a tiny tweak, 2. ukelele is spot-on,
- Killing Tomorrow is just a tiny bit contagious, so, we ALL have to be really sweet to checkout chicks, the teenager handing you the burger bag and pizza box, the old guy with a grimy cardy impeding your progress up Chapel St (he probably has a chest full of medals on ANZAC Day), the bitch in the right lane who fails to indicate (probably just found out her kid’s on drugs), you get the drift… .Peace, Love, Happiness.
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Thank you all for being so lovely. I’m relieved you don’t think I’ve done a rubbish job writing about such a beloved figure. I know it’s not about me, but I did want to say thank you to everyone who gave positive feedback.
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thanks jess like you i was surpised by my and others reaction to paul’s death and while i can only speak for myself part of it has to do with helplessness. i have suffered depression and know the hopelesness it can bring on, but i still find it imesurably sad when someone feels there is no way to end the pain but this. Crowded House have that rare abilty to speak to a huge audience leaving each individual feeling they are speakign directly to them and them alone. and yes they explored the darker side of life (never forget “hole in the river” which is about Neil’s aunt comitting suicide) while still giving hope. i think the major reason paul’s suicide shocked us all is it seemed so sudden, no lead up of drinking binges and for some reason, i can grasp why, the thought of someone taking the dogs for a walk, something so normal, a walk that ends as this one did is shocking and very sad. sorry if i have rambled, i to am still trying to make sence of what has happened and to shake off the darkness that engulfs me at the moment.
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Mick Molloy is doing a one hour tribute to Paul Hester tomorrow (Friday, April 1) on Triple M’s Tough Love with tapes of Paul’s contributions over four years to the old Martin/Molloy radio show. Must listen radio.
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Paul Hester
Thank you for articulating everything about Paul that existed. I am writing from beyond the ocean, smack dab in the middle of the prairies in Canada. I remember seeing Crowded House when they came to this city, and waiting out in the frezing cold temps to meet and greet the band….well now they were so happy that my friend and I stuck around for over two hours that we actually got to spend some time with all of them. I have to say, 12+ years later, that Paul Hester had a lasting affect on me. These men were non-judgemental, very brilliant and very cheeky as well. As a unit, a band, they fit the pieces together. As individuals, they were sweet sweet men. I cried when my friend told me the news of Paul’s passing, and cried more when I learned that this man took his own life. All I want to say is that many many people loved Paul here as well, and we are all mourning his passing. This loss is inexplicable.
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Black & White Boy
Someone who worked with the Crowdies told me years ago that Neil Finn wrote Black & White Boy about Paul and his cycles through elation and depression. Lyrics FYI:
Black and white boy black and white boy You’re so extreme You’re so confused Color me in whatever mood I’m in I could be still in touch with you And you’re full of the wonder of spring It’s all sweetness and lightness you bring and a room full of people fall to your infinite charm But when darkness should quickly descend You go quietly, my miserable friend To the depths of despair you will crawl black and white boy
Black and white boy black and white boy You’re so extreme You’re so confused Color me in Whatever mood I’m in I could be still in touch with you
When you shake off the shadows of night and your eyes are so clear and so bright You’ll make fools of the liars and creeps Put a rose in my cheeks But when demons have climbed on your back You are vicious and quick to attack And you put on a wonderful show Do you really, really think I don’t know? Black and white boy
And you run like a cat to the cream And you’re acting so nice it’s obscene You put on a wonderful show Do you really, really think I don’t know? Black and white boy
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I’ll add my thanks to you for writing this, Jess - you did a wonderful job and covered much of what’s in my own head and heart about this tragic event.
I stumbled across this site by accident, but I’m very glad I did. Thank you for a beautiful piece of writing.
Emma.
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After catching the last few minutes of RockWiz on Saturday night I cried my eyes out until the next morning, feeling ridiculous about such a huge reaction for somone I’d never met. Strangely, this feels as personal to me as the death of my sister has, and just as difficult to share with other people. Thanks to Jess and everyone who posted here for helping with that- absolutley yes to everything you all wrote.
Most of us grew up with Crowded House songs on the soundtrack to our lives. Memories and emotions attached to the tunes and the words, shows and videos. Until this week, just seeing Paul’s smiley face on TV or hearing his quiet voice on the radio would make me grin like a fool and feel happier instantly. It’s horrible to think that a person who can do this for so many people wasn’t able to see it reflected back at him. That all the people who have come out saying how much he meant to them couldn’t keep him here. I am sad he ever had to feel that way. I am sad for his family and friends. It makes me wonder what hope there is for the rest of us.
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Good bye Paul Hester
Jess, well done. Crowded House were my sanity during my teenage years. I was blown away also. Last night I attended his memorial at the Prince of Wales and couldn’t believe how many peoples lives Pual had touched in such a profound and personal way. What a shame he couldn’t find the light.
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Hessie
Thanks for this Jess. I didn’t feel like this when Hutchence died because I didn’t like him. But Paul Hester - I’d always loved him and his quick wit. I suggest that everyone donate to the Mirabel Foundation, as the Hesters and Mardi have requested instead of sending flowers, as a way to honour an extraordinary man.
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This seems like a strange thing to say but thanks for writing that Jess. Reading your eloquent musings on Paul’s death has helped me put my finger on what’s been bothering me all day - like you said, he was one of our own and that makes his death that much bleaker. What a sad day.
well done Jessie, beautifully written and a very acurate description of most people’s response to such as tragic death. It will be hard for anyone to write a better discription of Paul Hester’s death.