Once a punk, always a punk

Forming at the height of political and social conservatism in the 1970s and facing hostility from the government well into the late 80s, the punk generation was defined by DIY fun, freedom, and a rejection of authority. 

Punk exploded in Australia in 1976 with The Saints’ seminal debut album (I’m) Stranded. The Brisbane band was one of the first in the world to launch a punk album before The Sex Pistols and The Clash. But founding guitarist of The Saints, Edmund (Ed) Kuepper, is now in his late 60s, along with many of his original fans. 

Some of these fans are approaching retirement, many are grandparents, and others are immersed in hobbies and travel. So, are their days of anarchy over? Our Generation talks with three punks who have been on the scene for decades to find out how the movement has evolved and what it means to be a punk in 2024

For Chris Converse, a long-standing fixture on the Brisbane punk scene, the answer is a resounding “no”. 

“Once a punk, always a punk,” he says. 

Chris got hooked on punk in the early 80s. The music had meaning, the community was tight-knit and diverse, and he never knew what would happen on any given night. 

“Back then, there was always a great punk community standing up against the Joh (Bjelke-Petersen) era of government. There was plenty of classism, racism, and violence, so there was always something for punk musicians to sing about.”

Today, Chris helps run Punkfest Brisbane, a music event hosting up to 20 local and international gigs annually. 

His partner Cathy Kerlin started Punkfest in 2004 and Chris came onto the scene just a few years later. 

His involvement with Punkfest, along with alternative community radio station 4ZZZ, has played a defining role in Chris’ adult life. He started as a presenter on the 4ZZZ punk show in the early 90s and returned to radio in 2008 as host of two shows on Saturday mornings: Ballzzz in the Air and Kids with Class Kicking Arse. 

“It allows us to provide a platform for many bands in the punk and alternative scene, and we also run 4ZZZ fundraising gigs with Punkfest that are huge,” he says. 

The Brisbane scene is vibrant and filled with people of all ages, according to Chris. Older bands are still playing gigs and new bands spring up all the time. 

“Unfortunately, we’ve lost a few good people over the years, but there are still many punks from back in the day, still playing in bands, still producing great music, and still attending gigs,” he says. 

“The spirit that the community had back in the 70s and 80s is still alive today. Brisbane’s punk community keeps growing. People come from all walks of life and everyone has a great attitude. 

“It’s great to see the mix of young and old. To me, Brisbane has one of the best and most vibrant punk scenes in the world.”

As a teen in the mid-1970s, punk was Sherry Langford’s lifeline to the world beyond regional Victoria. Punk’s celebration of individuality was a way to break free from her conventional and conformist hometown. 

Her brother became a punk when she was in primary school, and she quickly followed his lead. 

“I remember going to the shopping centre with my brother who had a mohawk with the tips dyed red,” she recalls. 

“No one in our town looked like that. People were absolutely horrified by his hair and the words spray-painted on his biker jacket. 

“All the old ladies would stare and my mum used to yell at them, telling them to put their eyes back in their heads.” 

Sherry remembers the punk scene being dominated by men and says it was hard to find femme representation. Girls stuck together, carving out safe spaces and supporting each other’s artistic expression. 

“Some of my friends had been to fashion school and were very good seamstresses. We would find magazines showing the latest fashions in Britain and try to copy these really outrageous Vivienne Westwood designs,” Sherry says. 

Now in her mid-60s, Sherry calls herself a “very happy punk grandma”. Her wardrobe is still filled with tartans, skinny jeans, and combat boots. But there are also windbreakers for her early morning walks with Roger, her silky terrier, and hiking boots for her upcoming trip to Indonesia. 

Sherry says women of her generation continue to reject the capitalist patriarchy and refuse to fade away. The punk ethos they embraced in their youth continues to shape their lives. 

“I don’t know anyone my age who will be able to fully retire any time soon,” she says. 

“In my 20s, I lived in a flat with five others. We didn’t only share our resources but we also shared our skills and our time. 

“Maybe the cost-of-living and housing crisis will see the older generation return to this kind of conscious communal living. It’s not for everyone, but I know a lot of people who are open to the idea.” 

Sherry dislikes it when people tell her they ‘used to be’ a punk. If you used to be a punk, then you never really were a punk. 

“Punk has always been about more than music or fashion. It’s about an attitude. It’s about thinking for yourself and not accepting authority,” she says.

“Punk, particularly female punk, is about being heard. Sometimes we’re angry and we’re always fighting for justice.”

Melbourne-based teacher, musician and writer, Tristan Clark, has been involved with the punk scene for more than three decades. He started going to live shows at 14 years old and has been interested in the political scene ever since. 

After being kicked out of graphic design school, Tristan considered a future in advertising. But he was unable to reconcile this type of career with the anti-capitalist ethos of punk. So, he went on to study politics. In typical punk fashion, he dropped out of school to tour with his band. 

Today, Tristan is a classroom aide at a non-mainstream community high school where many students identify as neurodivergent. 

He says it’s easy to see why young people who struggle with self-regulation and who harbour frustration would be attracted to punk. 

“When I started, a student often wore a pink Discharge shirt (an English hardcore punk band from the 70s). I was excited by this, but also wary of being the overenthusiastic adult who no longer made it seem cool,” he says. 

“I ended up mentioning the shirt and their expression said, ‘What would you know, old man’! Eventually, we formed a connection over punk.” 

Tristain has written two books on the Australian punk movement: Orstralia: A Punk History 1974–1989 and Orstralia: A Punk History 19901999. Published earlier this year, the books narrate the evolution of Australian punk from its underground roots in the 70s to the emergence of hardcore in the 80s and its commercial ascent in the 90s. 

“Punk has shaped the trajectory of my life and has helped define my personal ethics, from dietary choice to an adherence to more liberatory politics,” he says. 

“It has afforded me extensive travel, extended friendship groups, and a sense of community. If it wasn’t for punk, I wouldn’t have had a tenth of the experiences I’ve enjoyed.” 

Tristan is heartened to see Australia’s punk community continue to grow and diversify through art, fashion, and music. Some artists are intently DIY, while others operate more conventionally. 

The current scene contains a range of self-sustaining sub-groups, mostly based on style or ethos, and artists reference a range of genres, from experimental and electronic to new wave and hardcore. Some bands, such as Amyl and the Sniffers, have even managed to transcend the Melbourne punk scene and become hugely popular overseas. 

“The greater evolution, at least within the area I’ve had the most involvement, has been the diversified composition of both audiences and performers, which has been a deliberate and welcome development.”

Ed Kuepper and The Saints are touring again, a testament to the enduring popularity of punk music and culture. 

For many older punks, the spirit of rebellion from the 70s and 80s has never died. In fact, it’s as relevant today as it ever was. 

There is plenty to rebel against. Inner-city suburbs are being gentrified, pokies are popping up where live music once played, and corporatism has encroached on nearly every aspect of life. 

Their tattoos may be wrinkled and faded, but it’s clear the original punks are still there, questioning the status quo.

This article is featured in National Seniors Australia’s quarterly member magazine, Our Generation. 

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