Number 3 – John Farnham – You’re the Voice

Most of the songs I’ve written about on this list have been played on loop whilst I’ve written about them, just to capture those little nuances or re-capture those resonated so much with me in the first place. Not this one. I know ‘You’re the Voice’ like the back and front of every cliché. This one’s in the blood. It’s been there since I was eleven years old.

I’ve always known John Farnham was a great singer, but it’s only in the last few years that I’ve come to realise that he’s not just great; he’s exceptional. Perhaps I came to think that his lack of global success somehow indicated limitations. How wrong I was. Truth be told, Farnham never prioritised trying to crack international markets. That level of fame wasn’t something he desired or required. He wasn’t keen on lapping the planet when his home fans gave him all he needed. Fair enough, too. Good for him.

If you go onto YouTube – as I like to do – and seek out music reaction videos, you’ll find more than a few vocal coaches reacting to Farnham’s stuff. Most times, their reactions can be described as wide-eyed, jaw dropped astonishment. How have they not heard of this man? It makes sense. Once you strip away the tarnishing impact of ubiquity and the cultural cringe that Australians are wont to direct at their own culture sometimes (i.e. musical snobbery – for which I’ve certainly been guilty), the inimitable talents of the man emerge. His range was staggering. His vibrato and pitch control were perfect. From a vocal coach perspective, his mouth shaping and shifts between head and chest voice are as good as it gets. He could jump octaves in single notes and stick the landing with grin, every single time. He could sing a heart-breaking love song with Olivia Newton-John as easily as he could an operatic aria with Anthony Warlow. And he used to sing Led Zeppelin’s Black Dog as a warm-up song, making it sound about as vocally challenging as Humpty-Dumpty. And he was funny. Not just a great singer; Farnham was a great entertainer. He was daggy, self-deprecating, a bit cheeky. A family man’s mate.

No, he didn’t write ‘You’re the Voice’. He didn’t write many songs over his career, though there are some seriously good ones out there if you look for them. (‘Burn for You’ is a good example.) Farnham was a singer, not a singer-songwriter. That’s ok. So was Sinatra. When ‘You’re the Voice’ came along, Farnham jumped at it. In a bit of a career slump at the time – the aged boy wonder had yet to meaningfully transition into a more adult market – ‘You’re the Voice’ was the adrenalin shot of a life-time, doing for his career what Live Aid did for Queen. The song was massive, and for bloody good reason.

Few songs build anticipation was well as this one. The clapping synth drums, the pounding faux timpani. In comes the piano, the bass, and then comes Farnham, singing those simple, direct, empowering lyrics known to pretty much Australian. “We have the chance to turn the pages over.” Chest voice into falsetto as seamlessly as a Peter Brock gear change. Held notes that hang in the air like wedge-tailed eagles. No one else can do this with such precision, power and feeling.

The chorus is ridiculous. Woh-OH-oh-oh-Oh-OH-oh-oh! x 2. But what this succession of vowel sounds offers the listener is an exhilarating, affirming sense of release. It lets Farnham kick his rasped voice into high gear. Live especially, he could go off-piste with abandon in the song’s outro, kicking up to High Fs with dazzling conviction.

And the song’s got bagpipes! Is there any more mocked an instrument that can simultaneously be so moving? Not a lot of squashed cat in popular music, but Australia’s authored two the best; this one and AC/DC’s mighty, ‘It’s a Long Way to the Top’ – another song Farnham greatly enjoyed covering, replete with backing focus and horns. Bon’s leer was parked and Tina Turner’s Motown strut revved up to the max. Both these songs were as much about Farnham the showman as Farnham the singer. And damn, the bloke used to put on a show. Most singers can’t match the best of their studio vocal work when on a live stage. Not even the immortal Freddie Mercury could do it. But Farnham could and did so consistently. And he made it look so ridiculously easy.  

Australia in the mid 80’s was an optimistic time. We’d won the America’s Cup, had hyper-shiny mullets and fluorescent zinc cream. We had our most jovially charismatic Prime Minister at the helm, and Crocodile Dundee was going gangbusters. Did we want to turn the page as such? No, but we felt that we could. We felt we actually were making things better. You’re the Voice was a clarion cry, not just for who we could be, but who we were. This was the era of Invincible Australia.

When Coldplay performed a short set at Sound Relief in 2009 – that memorable concert held to provide much needed support in the aftermath of the Black Saturday fires – they covered ‘You’re the Voice’, which they introduced as the ‘Australian National Anthem’. The ‘G went wild. Then Chris Martin introduced John Farnham to sing it. The ‘G lost its shit. At sixty years old, he nailed every note with bloody chewing gum in his mouth. You could hear Chris Martin doing his level best to sing backing vocals on the chorus. He’s fine singer, no question, but he just didn’t have the control. It’s easy enough to bellow this song’s chorus from within the throng, but solo, it leaves your voice seriously exposed. Celine Dion couldn’t do it; she just couldn’t get the mouth shape. If you’re doing something Madame Titanic can’t do, you’re in a class of your own.

John Farnham is the definitive Australian voice, and ‘You’re the Voice’ his is definitive song. It’s a monument to aspiration, a tsunami that demolishes cynicism. Smirk if you must, but try not to be overcome by it if you’re in a group that starts singing. You and every other bugger around you will become one voice. And that’s pretty bloody special.