Over the course of his career, he collected more gold and platinum albums than any other Australian artist.
Dusty not only recorded songs written by himself and other fellow Australian performers, but also recorded classic Australian poems by Henry Lawson and Banjo Paterson with new tunes, to call attention to the old 'Bush Ballads.' An example is The Man from Snowy River by Paterson.
In 1970, he was made a Member of the Order of the British Empire for services to music. In 1971 he won Best Single at the Australian Country Music Awards at the Tamworth Country Music Festival (Slim's wife Joy McKean won Song of the Year as writer of the song for which he won best single). In all, he won a record 35 "Golden Guitars" over the years.
He died at home in St Ives, New South Wales on 19 September 2003 after a protracted battle with cancer, at age 76.
The Slim Dusty Story started back in the 1940s on a remote dairy farm in the hills behind Kempsey, NSW, when a 10-year-old boy dreamed of being a country music singer. His name was David Gordon Kirkpatrick... he called himself "Slim Dusty" and began to live that dream.
But even the most optimistic farm boy would never have imagined the life that was to unfold... a life that would establish Slim as the voice of the nation, the chronicler of Australian history in song.
Slim managed to hold on to those early visions of writing and singing about the bush because during his lengthy career, he always stayed in touch with his audience. And he did this in a very real and meaningful way, so much so that his fans would feel that Slim was one of their mates and his songs "just a good yarn you might hear from a mate at the pub, around a campfire in the bush or at a back yard barbie".
He described his music as "songs about real Australians... "I have to be fair dinkum with my audience. I can't see any other way of doing it," he said. "You have to believe in what you are singing about."
Slim Dusty was the first Australian to have a number one hit record and the only Australian to ever receive a 78rpm Gold Record (for A Pub With No Beer in 1958)...
He was the first Australian to have an international record hit and the first singer in the world to have his voice beamed to earth from space (astronauts Bob Crippen and John Young played Slim's recording of Waltzing Matilda from the space shuttle "Columbia" as it passed over Australia back in 1983).
During an amazingly successful career spanning over six decades, Slims' continued popularity saw him rewarded with more Gold and Platinum Awards for sales of his singles, eight-tracks, cassettes, CD's, videos and DVDs... more than any other Australian artist!
He received an unequaled 37 Golden Guitar Awards, two ARIA's (Australian Recording Industry Association awards), inductions into the ARIA Hall of Fame and the Australian Country Music Roll of Renown.
Slim was recognized for his long time services to Australian entertainment with an MBE and an Order of Australia. In 1999, Prime Minister John Howard named Slim Dusty Australia's Father of the Year and Senior Australian of the Year. There were many other awards and honors... too many to name here!
Dusty died at his home in St Ives, New South Wales on 19 September 2003 at the age of 76, after a protracted battle with cancer.
I Hope They Fight Again
Slim Dusty Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
And everything was peaceful til some ringer blokes came in
There were four of them in number and they seemed to be half full
And they were arguing on how to throw and tie a scrubber bull
Well they talked of cattle camps from Bourke to Anthony Lagoon
And they talked of runnin’ scrubbers ‘neath the glimmer of the moon
And they talked of ridin’ buckers when the subject turned to fights
Oh yeah
Just then the fighting shearer from the Lachlan came around
He had five mates behind him but the ringers stood their ground
The shearers had been drinking on the far end of the bar and
They’d been shearing lambs and wethers and were calling out for tar
They’d been cursin’ cooks and rousies and the experts left and right
When they heard the ringers cooee and the subject turned to fight
Then a deadly calm descended like the lull before a storm
Which erupted like a cyclone as the fighters showed their form
Oh that’s right!!
Oh the presser punched a moment with the tallest of the four
Till the lanky bloke connected and he crumpled to the floor
Then lanky aimed a beauty at the nearest shearers chin
But a king hit from the sideline put the long one in a spin
When an innocent bystander sought an exit to the door
He was trampled with the blood and glass and beer upon the floor
Just then the worried barman hollered out with all his might
Are you crazy lot of blighters here to drink or here to fight!!
Oh that’s right!!
They were battered bruised and winded so they gathered round the bar
‘Cept the innocent bystander who went limping to his car
Oh the good old days have vanished in the darkness and the gloom
In the wake of modern tourists and this might mineral boom
For the dinkum Aussie bushmen are a slowly dyin’ race
And it hurts me when I see the type that come to take their place
So I come here every evening and I sit and reminisce
‘Cos another blue like that one is a thing I’d hate to miss
Oh yeah
I was drinking here one evening said the old man with a grin
And everything was peaceful til some ringer blokes came in
In Slim Dusty's song "I Hope They Fight Again," the lyrics recount an evening in a bar that turned chaotic when ringers (a type of Australian cowboy) came in and started arguing about how to tie a scrubber bull. As the night wore on and more alcohol was consumed, the subject of conversation turned to fighting. The tension between the ringers and the shearers (who had been drinking on the other end of the bar) came to a head, and a violent brawl erupted. Despite being battered and bruised, the men returned to the bar after the fight and gathered around to reminisce about the night's events.
The song paints a picture of a bygone era in Australian culture, where life in the bush was harsh and rough-edged, but also filled with camaraderie and a sense of belonging. The singer laments the fact that this way of life has been eroded by modernity and the influx of "tourists" and "mineral booms." In the end, the song is a nostalgic ode to a simpler, rougher time and a celebration of the bonds that were forged among those who lived it.
Line by Line Meaning
I was drinking here one evening said the old man with a grin
The old man is reminiscing about the past, when he was drinking at the pub and everything was peaceful.
And everything was peaceful til some ringer blokes came in
The tranquility was shattered when a group of ringer blokes entered the bar.
There were four of them in number and they seemed to be half full
The ringer blokes were a group of four who appeared to be intoxicated.
And they were arguing on how to throw and tie a scrubber bull
The ringer blokes were discussing how to throw and tie a scrubber bull, a type of cattle found in Australia.
Well they talked of cattle camps from Bourke to Anthony Lagoon
The ringer blokes discussed different cattle camps and locations, including Bourke and Anthony Lagoon.
And they talked of runnin’ scrubbers ‘neath the glimmer of the moon
The ringer blokes discussed running scrubbers, or wild cattle, under the light of the moon.
And they talked of ridin’ buckers when the subject turned to fights
The ringer blokes discussed riding buckers, or horses that buck, when the topic of fights came up.
And by this time said the old man they were gettin’ pretty tight
The old man observes that the ringer blokes were becoming increasingly drunk.
Just then the fighting shearer from the Lachlan came around
A fighting shearer from Lachlan arrived at the bar.
He had five mates behind him but the ringers stood their ground
The shearer had five friends with him, but the ringer blokes didn't back down.
The shearers had been drinking on the far end of the bar and
The shearer and his friends had been drinking on the other end of the bar.
They’d been shearing lambs and wethers and were calling out for tar
The shearers had been working and were calling for tar to use while shearing.
They’d been cursin’ cooks and rousies and the experts left and right
The shearers were hurling insults at the cooks, rousies (people who move the sheep), and other experts.
When they heard the ringers cooee and the subject turned to fight
The shearers heard the ringer blokes calling out and the topic of conversation shifted to fighting.
Then a deadly calm descended like the lull before a storm
A tense silence fell over the bar, like the calm before a storm.
Which erupted like a cyclone as the fighters showed their form
A violent fight broke out among the shearer and ringer blokes.
Oh that’s right!!
A phrase used to emphasize the violence of the fight.
Oh the presser punched a moment with the tallest of the four
The presser, a type of worker who presses wool, landed a punch on the tallest ringer bloke.
Till the lanky bloke connected and he crumpled to the floor
The lanky ringer bloke retaliated and knocked the presser to the ground.
Then lanky aimed a beauty at the nearest shearers chin
The lanky ringer bloke punched a shearer in the face.
But a king hit from the sideline put the long one in a spin
Someone from the sidelines landed a powerful punch on the lanky ringer bloke, knocking him off balance.
When an innocent bystander sought an exit to the door
An innocent person in the bar tried to leave through the door to avoid getting hurt.
He was trampled with the blood and glass and beer upon the floor
The person was pushed to the ground and injured by the chaotic fight happening around them.
Just then the worried barman hollered out with all his might
The barman, concerned about the safety of his patrons and his establishment, shouted at the fighters.
Are you crazy lot of blighters here to drink or here to fight!!
The barman asked the fighters if they were there to drink or to fight.
They were battered bruised and winded so they gathered round the bar
The fighters were hurt and out of breath, so they retreated to the bar.
‘Cept the innocent bystander who went limping to his car
The innocent bystander who was injured left the bar limping and went to their car.
Oh the good old days have vanished in the darkness and the gloom
The old man mourns the loss of the good old days when things were peaceful.
In the wake of modern tourists and this might mineral boom
The old man believes that the influx of modern tourists and the mining industry have contributed to the decline of the dinkum Aussie bushmen.
For the dinkum Aussie bushmen are a slowly dyin’ race
The old man believes that the true, authentic Australian bushmen are disappearing.
And it hurts me when I see the type that come to take their place
The old man is saddened by the fact that the current generation of people who are taking over don't embody the same spirit and values as the dinkum Aussie bushmen.
So I come here every evening and I sit and reminisce
The old man visits the bar every evening to remember the past.
‘Cos another blue like that one is a thing I’d hate to miss
The old man doesn't want to miss out on another fight or blue like the one he witnessed in the past.
Contributed by Chase O. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
Sandra
on One Truckie's Epitaph
My brother Terry Radke was the man Slim wrote the song for after he received a letter from Terry's youngest son, Lync. Thank you
Charley Boyter
on Axe Mark On a Gidgee
With horsebells to keep me company
Jake
on Your Country's Been Sold
You say you belong to Australia my friend
And rightly you’d die for this land to defend
But let us be honest, it’s sad but it’s true
Australia my friend doesn’t belong to you
Our country’s been sold by the powers that be
To big wealthy nations way over the sea
We couldn’t be taken by bayonets or lead
And so they decided to buy us instead
And talking of wars and the blood that was spilled
The widows, the crippled, the ones that were killed
And I often wonder if their ghosts can see
What’s happening now to their native country
I wonder if ghosts of the fallen can see
The crime and corruption and vast poverty
With a lost generation of youth on the dole
Who drift on life’s ocean without any goal
I once had a dream of our country so grand
The rivers outback irrigated the land
With towns and canals in that wasteland out there
And big inland cities with work everywhere
With profit from farming and factory and mine
Was used to develop a nation so fine
Then I woke from my dream into reality
That the wealth of our nation goes over the sea
Yeah you say you belong to Australia my friend
And rightly you’d die for this land to defend
But let us be honest, it’s sad but it’s true
Australia my friend doesn’t belong to you