Jimmy Little's Messenger gave new life to some of Australia's greatest songs

Warning: Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander readers are advised that this article contains the name and images of a person who has died.

Australian musician Brendan Gallagher couldn't believe what he was hearing.

It was the mid-1990s and he was at a small, long-since-shuttered Sydney inner-west venue called The Lyric. On stage was Australian country music royalty Jimmy Little.

"He was doing all the club standards like 'By The Time I Get To Phoenix' and this and that, and I just couldn't get over how good his voice was. I was looking around going, is it just me, or is he incredible?" Gallagher told Richard Kingsmill on triple j in 1999.

"Afterwards, I was very excited. I went up to Jimmy and, I didn't know what to do, but [I said] 'Let's do something'. So, he very graciously gave me his phone number."

Forty years into his career, Little was still working hard as a touring artist. His prolific recording career, however, had all but ceased in the 1970s. 

"I've been touring constantly, doing all sorts of shows, but I haven't been recording," Little, who died in 2012, told Kingsmill. 

"I needed something that was very different, very fresh and very new to kind of spark me back into the industry, recording wise."

After toying with the idea of getting him in for a guest spot on his band Karma County's new album, Gallagher then had a better idea.

"'Quasimodo's Dream'," he said, referring to The Reels' 1981 classic song. "I've always wanted to do a 6/8 version of that. Sort of a Texas waltz. Jimmy would be the guy for that, he'd just eat it alive."

That was the spark that lit the flame. Gallagher quickly thought of other great Australian songs that would benefit from Little's interpretation and took the idea to the singer and his wife.

"I went over to Jimmy and Marge's place, we sat out the back, Marge made some tea and I said 'Look, this is what I want to do'."

Jimmy Little becomes the Messenger

Jimmy Little's 1999 album, Messenger, is a collection of 11 songs written by the likes of Nick Cave, Paul Kelly, The Church, Sunnyboys and more.

His versions of these modern Australian classics are elegant and respectful. He not only gets to the heart of these songs, he gives them a sense of gravitas that helps make them his own, while remaining deferential to the source material.

"It just had to be my interpretation," he said. "Breathing my sentiment into the songs that were already breathing their own sentiment and feelings. I really just followed on and added, I guess, a little bit of me."

He wasn't dealing with small fry: few artists would approach tackling songs like Crowded House's 'Into Temptation', Ed Kuepper's 'The Way I Made You Feel' or The Go-Betweens 'Cattle and Cane' with the calm confidence Little exudes.

Many of these songs are already etched into our psyche, yet in Little's hands – and channelled through his voice – they seem completely renewed.

The tasteful bass playing of Michael Galeazzi, the gentle piano of Stuart Hunter, and Gallagher's sparse production are among the tasteful accompaniments to that incredible voice.

"I'm just so thrilled with the sound," Little said of his assembled band. "It made me sing better.

"When I heard the bed, the rhythm was the right rhythm, the keys were the right keys. A couple of songs I thought might be a little high, I had to extend myself and be more adventurous, and I did. I look at them all now and I wouldn't change a thing."

While the album brought Little's name and voice to a new audience unfamiliar with the legendary singer's stature, Gallagher already knew Little was a star.

"I'm old enough to know who Jimmy is," he said. "I was a youngster when [1964 song] 'Royal Telephone' was a hit. It was sort of part of the firmament, like Vegemite or Aeroplane Jelly."

If there was any danger of Gallagher forgetting the gravity of the company he was keeping, Jimmy's wife ensured he stayed in check.

"When Jim went inside to do something, Marge lined me up and said 'Brendan, Jimmy's a legend. He won't tell you, but I will'. It was like 'Look after the big fella, otherwise you're answering to me'.

"Jim and Marge are a great team: Jim's the dreamer, and Marge is the minder."

Making the dream come true

The material was almost all new for Little, whose prolific recording career had all but ground to a halt by the late 1990s.

"Really only the one [I knew] was [Warumpi Band's 1985 anthem] 'Blackfella/Whitefella', because I'm following the writing of the Indigenous performers," he said. "So that's the only one that I sort of took notice of when it first came out.

"It's not because I ignored the writers and singers and performers of the material that I've done. It's only that I've been so busy in my own ensemble, performing constantly. I had to come out of that world and have a look at this world around me."

To familiarise oneself with a swathe of new material, then to interpret it in your own style is a tall order. But Little didn't find it remotely intimidating.

"Not at all," he said. "Because I am an adventurer and an explorer, I like to try something different."

The album was a massive success. It won the ARIA for Best Adult Contemporary Album, cracked the top 30 of the Australian charts, and sold over 35,000 copies.

It's greatest impact, though, was taking the perfect voice of Jimmy Little to an entirely new audience, giving younger Australian audiences a vital musical history lesson.

A rich legacy

Messenger was just one chapter in an extraordinary career for one of our country's most influential singers.

Reflecting on his career at the time, Little told Kingsmill that he had no intention of becoming an inspiration. He just wanted to get his work done.

"I didn't intend it to be that way, I was focused on my career blooming and blossoming," he said. "As I looked down at my history, I realised that perhaps I had been inspiring others in the community. And I'm glad.

"My most recent compliment on that matter was from Archie Roach. We did a function at an opening here in Darling Harbour, and when Archie got up to perform he said to the public there and then, 'It's Jimmy Little who inspired me to do what I'm doing now'.

"I stood up, walked over, embraced him, shook his hand, and said, 'Thank you very much'. It was a very touching moment."

Little puts his impact on Indigenous artists down to his insistence on singing for community while out on the road.

"The same is said for Yothu Yindi and Troy Cassar-Daley and Christine Anu," he said, name checking fellow artists who've cited Little as an inspiration.

"Because I went to the community, as well as singing at the Entertainment Centres and the clubs of Australia. 

"I went to the heartland of the people and sang to the community, and they came up as children saying, 'I want to do that, what do I do?' and I said, 'You should follow your dream, like I did'."

Little was pragmatic in his approach to finding success and spent a great deal of time teaching young Indigenous creatives what it took to get ahead in an industry that's notoriously difficult for any practitioner, let alone those who face structural and often insidious challenges.

"You gotta stay focused, hang in there," he said. "It's a lot of hard work, you don't get it on a platter, you've got to earn it. And I'm glad that a lot of them have taken the notice of my advice to follow their dream. Not only in music, but in acting and in anything that they wanted to do.

"It's a matter of being practical, being honest, open and being ready to work. Whatever you want to do, you have to you have to pay your dues along the way.

"I talk about attitude with my people. If you approach people, approach them with friendliness, openness, honesty. If you go there with any grievances, any doubts, any kind of selling yourself short, then people can psychologically look at that as kind of a barrier that you've put up. A screen that says, 'I don't trust you'.

If there was ever an exponent for (this year's NAIDOC theme) keeping the fire burning, for being loud and proud, it was Jimmy Little.

"I talk to them psychologically about bringing your history and putting it on the table," he said.

"You don't have to tell people everything, but in terms of an artist approaching a record company, or an agency for work, as long as you are honest from the beginning, then you'll get an honest response back. If things don't work out, you can always change track and go to somebody else.

"I mean, there's barriers in everybody's life, but it's the attitude that gets you through. And talent."

Hear Mo'Ju take you through Jimmy Little's Messenger from 6pm Monday on Double J's Classic Albums. Or listen to it here on the ABC listen app.