Barry Jenkin I remember very fondly as the man who enlightened us to the Big Bang of popular music that was Punk, sometime in 1977.
He passed away peacefully at home, 16 May 2023. He was 75 years old.
There are some surprising facts about his life that I had no knowledge of until now. From an early age he grew up with a deep passion for classical orchestral music. That was his parents’ music collection. He had claimed that he learned to play albums on the family stereo/radiogram/ boom-box at the age of two.
The concert radio station of 1YC dominated the family listening. He learnt the cello for several years, but was left frustrated as he realised he could not reach the virtuoso level.
A slight nod to Phil Spector here. A good jazz guitarist by all accounts but was told by his guitar teacher that he did not have the intuitive feel to be among the best. He settled for being the greatest rock’n’roll record producer instead.
Jenkin has said his only real passion growing up was to be a radio DJ. He had some training, worked through provincial radio stations and eventually wound up at Radio Hauraki.
At that time the premier radio station for serious popular music addicts young and old.
American Top Forty with Casey Kasem was essential to fuel my life-long addiction to American music. The term Americana had not been coined yet. If it had been, that would have meant the Eagles.
This was Church on Sunday for the passionate fans. Broadcast every Sunday from 9am to 12pm.
Jenkin was not a fan of rock’n’roll. Too raucous and rowdy and the musicianship was not to virtuoso levels. He sounded like a bit of a snob. Preferred Yes and Genesis. Why play three chords when you can play three thousand.
Punk was A Thousand Miles Away (The Heartbeats).
Punk emerged in the United Kingdom in 1976, with the release of the Sex Pistol’s Anarchy in the UK. You could write a book on the origins of Punk, from New York Dolls to Ramones, Bo Diddley to Little Richard, even Uncle Dave Macon. Let’s just assume for this piece, that Year Zero was when John Lydon sprayed his declamatory whine like a chainsaw. I am an anti-Christ/ I am an anarchist.
The first time I heard this music was as a journal piece on the 10pm TV One news. Sometime mid-year in 1977. Dylan Taite (the one the music awards commemorate) was reporting on this new music phenomena in London.
There was concert footage of the Pistols and possibly the Damned. Along with male youths acting like yobs, smashing things and each other. Later we also did the slam-dance.
I was generally revolted, and more than a little disturbed at the age of sixteen. Terrible music along with general mayhem. My faves were Bowie, Marley and the Rolling Stones at the time.
Then the epiphany fell, and it was Jenkin leading the way for many of us, so it seemed.
Almost overnight we were hooked to Punk like a second coming. Or a Second Dark Age as the Fall sang, with Mark E. Smith’s typical acerbic Beat poetry.
It is nigh impossible to recreate that moment, where the whole world can change in a heartbeat. That is what the highest of art in whatever medium aspires to.
This music now dominated Jenkin’s evening show on Hauraki. He had a free hand to play whatever he wanted. This style of DJ is long gone, and it only exists on BFM Radio now, originally a Student University station.
Jenkin’s playlist each night opened the consciousness for all of us listening in dark bedrooms through the weeknights.
Police and Thieves (Clash). 52 Girls (B52’s) the original single version hard to find. Looking After Number One (Boomtown Rats). Another Girl, Another Planet (Only Ones). American Girl and Luna (Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers). (Get a) Grip (on Yourself) and Peaches (Stranglers). Pretty Vacant (Sex Pistols).
At some point he got the handle Doctor Rock. Some say it came from Hauraki programme manager Fred Botica. I prefer to believe it’s throwback to older rock’n’roll roots like Professor Longhair.
Jenkin was shoulder-tapped to front the ground-breaking New Zealand music show Radio with Pictures in 1977.
He looked every inch the man he sounded like, with his famous radio baritone voice.
Music videos were in their infancy. A lot was quite rough and ready. The music presented was not as pure and honed as his radio show in its heyday. We still watched every show.
He used to play an in-concert performance of Neil Young performing Hurricane repeatedly. I was reminded of this when I attended the Come Together play Neil Young’s Harvest show less than a week ago.
I gave a credit to Barry Jenkin in the review of that show. Four days later he passed away.
Rev Orange Peel
