STACK #245 March 2025

FEATURE MUSIC

SHAKE SOME ACTION TABLE TENNIS, FARM ANIMALS, BOOKS, BEASTS AND TEX Words Stuart Coupe

T ex Perkins and I go back a very long way. I’d put it at about 43 years since he – then known simply as Greg – arrived in Sydney from his home in Brisbane. In those days he was fronting a cowpunk outfit known as Tex Deadly and the Dum Dums and had decided that the place to be was a long way from Joh Bjelke-Petersen’s Brisbane – a city where he’d once been arrested for saying the ‘F’ word too loudly outside a venue. Yes, a simple “ where the f-ck are we going now? ” had landed him in the clink. As he frequently recalls, the very first door that he knocked on in Sydney was at 132 Cathedral Street in the inner city suburb of Woolloomooloo. That was where I lived with Roger Grierson. Regular Records had their offices upstairs in the two-storey building and we lived downstairs. We ran our independent label, G.R.E.E.N Records, from there. Where did the name come from? Kermit from The Muppets said, “It’s not easy being green.” Tex hung around our house. Half the Sydney independent music scene seemed to do the same. Aside from the label, I was managing the Hoodoo Gurus, and Roger was looking after The Allniters and The Johnnys. There was always some inner city rock ’n’ roll luminary listening to records, making coffee or passed out on one of the couches or beds. It was that sort of place. One day Roger had one of his many great ideas. Why don’t we get Tex and James Baker, Spencer P. Jones, Kim Salmon, and Boris Sujdovic together for a kind of inner city supergroup – members of The Scientists, Hoodoo Gurus, and The Johnnys, fronted by Tex. Why not, indeed? Someone decided to call them the Beasts of Bourbon. Roger and I fronted $1000 for a day in the studio. We threw in enough amphetamine to encourage everyone, and a few slabs of beer. And paid the legendary Tony Cohen $100 for the day to be engineer/ producer. Several of those involved headed up to Kings Cross for more chemical

And why not, I thought. So I called him up and, after some initial reservations, Tex agreed that it wasn’t a bad idea. So, for the next 12 months, Tex and I met whenever we could – usually at my home, but towards the end I travelled up to where he lives outside of Byron Bay. It was a project that had its challenges. Tex can be a prickly character. One afternoon while going through changes in the draft manuscript, Tex was getting exasperated and was texting me every couple of minutes and I’d respond as quickly as possible. It was an afternoon, and I was in a venue for a surprise gig by an established and big Australian band. I texted Tex back that – let’s call them Famous Australian Band – were about to play and it’d be a short set, and I’d get back to him when they finished. A text came back straight away. “I f-cking hate (Famous Australian Band). And f-ck you for going to see them. This is f-cked.” I quit the project the next day. Tex apologised and on we went. But for the most part it was harmonious. We played a lot of table tennis as I had a table on my balcony. It will probably not surprise you to hear that Tex is a VERY competitive table tennis player. The funniest moment happened when Tex was driving me to the airport on the Gold Coast after the week in Byron Bay. We ended up chatting about all the animals on his property. I had my tape recorder running and I said, “We’ll get a chapter out of this.” He looked at me like I was mad. “A chapter out of that – no f-cking way.” “Just watch me,” I replied. The chapter starting on page 257 of Tex’s memoir is titled Animal Farm . When the book was launched, to keep with the spirit of its genesis, we organised a table tennis table and played a game in front of the audience. Tex won. He was happy about that.

Stuart andTex Perkins

encouragement before they started recording. The idea was to record and mix an album in one day. That they did. At least one member didn’t hear the final mixes as he was passed out on the studio floor after not sleeping for several days. The result was The Axeman’s Jazz album – now considered an Australian indie rock classic. Cut to 2016 and a publisher called and suggested I approach Tex about a memoir. There was always some inner city rock ’n’ roll luminary listening to records, making coffee, or passed out on one of the couches or beds. It was that sort of place.

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