Fifty years ago, on January 19, 1975, a groundbreaking radio station named 2JJ, later known as Triple J, hit the airwaves at 11 a.m.This station, born out of a vision to challenge the status quo, quickly became a cultural cornerstone for Australian youth and music enthusiasts. Today, as it marks its golden anniversary, Triple J stands at a crossroads, balancing its legacy with the evolving media landscape dominated by streaming platforms and social media.
Back in 1975, Arthur Wyndam, the head of ABC radio, laid out a bold mission for 2JJ: to host public concerts, introduce listeners to fresh sounds, and document the music created in its studios and live events.At a time when Top 40 AM stations dominated youth radio, 2JJ broke the mold by embracing the ethos of underground radio. It played an eclectic mix of music, free from the constraints of customary formats, and quickly became a haven for artists and listeners alike.
Double J was established as a worker-controlled collective with a balance of professional broadcasters and enthusiastic amateurs.
From the very beginning, 2JJ was unapologetically bold. Its name, inspired by a slang term for a marijuana cigarette, and its slogan, “the Head of the Dial,” were purposeful provocations. The station’s playlist was equally daring, featuring tracks like Skyhooks’ “You Just Like Me ‘Cause I’m Good In Bed” and the Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil,” both of which had been banned from commercial radio. Alan McGirvan, the first breakfast announcer, even made headlines by uttering a controversial word on air during the station’s launch week. This fearless approach defined 2JJ’s early years and cemented its reputation as a trailblazer.
Over the decades, Triple J has evolved, but its core mission remains unchanged: to champion new music and amplify the voices of young Australians. While some critics argue that the station has lost its edge, others see it as a victim of its own success.After all, as one ABC insider quipped, “On the second day that Double Jay was on air, someone called to complain that it wasn’t as good as it used to be.”
As Triple J celebrates 50 years of shaping Australian music and culture, it faces new challenges. Declining listener numbers and the rise of digital platforms have sparked debates about its relevance.Yet, for many, Triple J remains a vital part of the nation’s cultural fabric, a testament to the enduring power of radio to connect, inspire, and provoke.
The Revolutionary Spirit of Double Jay: Pioneering Women and Worker-Controlled Radio
Table of Contents
- 1. The Revolutionary Spirit of Double Jay: Pioneering Women and Worker-Controlled Radio
- 2. The Wild Days of Double Jay: A Revolution in Australian Radio
- 3. The Evolution of Double Jay to Triple J: A Journey Through music and Rebellion
- 4. The Rise and Evolution of Triple J: A Cultural Force in Australian Music
- 5. The Evolving Influence of Triple J in the Digital Age
- 6. How Triple J’s Evolution reflects the Changing Landscape of Australian Music
- 7. How is Triple J adapting to the changing landscape of music consumption in the digital age?
- 8. The Golden Age of Triple J
- 9. the Digital Disruption
- 10. Triple J in the Digital Age
- 11. The Future of Triple J
- 12. conclusion
in 1975,Double Jay,australia’s trailblazing radio station,emerged as a beacon of innovation and inclusivity. Spearheaded by station coordinator Marius Webb, alongside Ron Moss and program coordinator Ros Cheney, the station adopted a worker-controlled collective model. This groundbreaking approach blended the expertise of seasoned broadcasters with the raw enthusiasm of amateurs, creating a unique and dynamic environment.
“Ros was the rock for all subsequent women [at Double jay] – more political and more dedicated than the men who, in turn, were either ego-driven, commercial radio tainted or ideologues,” recalls Sammy Collins, a producer and programmer who joined the station in its early days. Cheney’s leadership was instrumental in fostering a culture of gender equality, making Double Jay the first Australian music station to feature female DJs.
Gayle Austin, one of these pioneering women, once reflected on the era: “In those days, the only portrayal of women in the media was that you were either draped across a car to sell this gorgeous car to a bloke or you were in the ‘mum’ role. You were cooking or cleaning or looking after the kids.” Her presence on air was a revelation,challenging stereotypes and inspiring countless women.
Tracee Hutchison, who later became a presenter on Triple J in the 1980s, recalls Austin’s impact: “[Gayle] just epitomised everything I imagined as this kind of really cool way to be as a woman on air and a really proud, loud female voice. I just thought ‘I wanna work there,I wanna be part of this’.”
From its inception, Double Jay was a magnet for controversy.The establishment viewed it with suspicion, and even the australian Security Intelligence Organisation (ASIO) tapped the station’s phones. Public outrage was frequent, with many accusing the station of moral decay. Yet,this resistance only fueled its revolutionary spirit.
Announcer Bob Hudson famously described the station’s collective management system as “a combination of the Paris Commune of 1871 and a hippie commune.” This unconventional structure allowed for creative freedom and a sense of shared purpose, setting Double Jay apart from traditional radio stations.
double Jay’s legacy is one of defiance and progress. By championing gender equality and embracing a worker-controlled model,it not only transformed Australian radio but also paved the way for future generations of broadcasters. Its story remains a testament to the power of innovation, inclusivity, and the courage to challenge the status quo.
The Wild Days of Double Jay: A Revolution in Australian Radio
In the 1970s and 1980s, Double Jay, the precursor to Triple J, wasn’t just a radio station—it was a cultural phenomenon. Known for its rebellious spirit,the station became a hub for music,counterculture,and unfiltered creativity.It was a place where boundaries were pushed, and the rules of traditional broadcasting were rewritten.
Tracee Hutchison, who hosted the weekend breakfast slot in the 1980s, vividly remembers the station’s chaotic yet vibrant atmosphere. “I’d be out all night,” she recalls. “It was not unusual to come in on a saturday or sunday morning and the mid-dawn person would be cutting lines of cocaine and speed on the desk. Which is not to say I participated in any of that. There were always stories of people having sex in the sound booths or the studios.”
Double Jay’s environment was more akin to a share house than a public broadcaster. Despite the wild antics, the station was home to some of Australia’s most talented broadcasters, including Ted Robinson, Lex Marinos, Chris winter, Mark Colvin, and Jim Middleton. Colvin, who passed away in 2017, once described the station’s unique culture in an interview: “The thing at those group meetings was that there was an anarcho-syndicalist thing going on where you would have these weekly group meetings and everybody had an equal voice, and everyone sat on those bean bags or on the floor or on those big baggy sofas and had a big argument.”
Beyond the sex and drugs, Double Jay was a trailblazer in Australian music. Before 1975,Melbourne was considered the country’s music capital. However, Double Jay shifted the spotlight to Sydney, giving local musicians a platform they had never had before.The station’s daily “what’s On” segment was revolutionary, informing fans about live performances across the city. This focus on local talent made a notable impact, helping to launch the careers of bands like Midnight Oil, Radio Birdman, INXS, Mental As Anything, and AC/DC—years before they gained mainstream recognition on commercial radio or shows like Countdown.
Double Jay’s legacy is one of rebellion, creativity, and a relentless commitment to music. It wasn’t just a radio station; it was a movement that redefined Australian culture and left an indelible mark on the nation’s music scene.
The Evolution of Double Jay to Triple J: A Journey Through music and Rebellion
In April 1978, during a Double Jay concert, Jimmy Barnes took a moment to thank the station for its boldness. “Apparently, there are a few lyrics in this song that aren’t considered too good. We’d like to thank Double Jay, which is the only station that plays it,” he said, referring to the controversial lines in Cold Chisel’s Khe Sanh: “And their legs were often open/But their minds were always closed.” At a time when commercial radio shied away from such content, Double Jay stood out as a beacon of musical freedom.
Double Jay, which later evolved into Triple J, was a melting pot of eclectic sounds. From avant-garde jazz to Paul McCartney and Daddy cool, the station’s programming was as diverse as its presenters’ tastes.“People would individually champion stuff,” recalls a former producer. “I remember when Ed Kuepper released Also Sprach the King of Euro-Disco – I played it six times in one shift on Saturday morning breakfast.” This individuality defined the station’s early years, creating a unique listening experience.
However, the station’s anarchic spirit wasn’t without its challenges. By 1980, Double Jay transitioned to the FM band, rebranding as Triple J. This shift marked the beginning of a more structured approach, with the introduction of station-wide playlists. Yet, the tension between creative freedom and organizational control remained a defining feature.
Stuart Matchett, a late presenter, once reflected on this era: “I thought at the time that the station had turned into the alternate to the alternate to the alternate. It was like every track that you played on air had to be one that had never been played before and that no one else played. Some of the presenters were negative about other music and would say how terrible other popular bands of the time were.”
This rebellious ethos reached its peak in 1990 when Triple J went on strike. The catalyst? ABC management’s decision to censor NWA’s Fuck Tha Police.in protest, the on-air team played NWA’s Express Yourself 82 times in a row, a bold statement against censorship and a testament to the station’s commitment to artistic expression.
In the mid-1990s, Triple J underwent a cultural transformation under the guidance of Barry Chapman, a commercial radio veteran. Producer Jo Chichester recalls a meeting with Chapman to discuss the annual International Women’s Day lineup, only to be abruptly dismissed. “nothing gets in the way of flow programming,” Chapman asserted, signaling a shift toward a more streamlined approach.
Despite these changes, Triple J’s legacy as a platform for groundbreaking music and fearless expression endures. From its early days as Double Jay to its current status as a cultural institution, the station has consistently pushed boundaries, championed new talent, and challenged the status quo. As Richard kingsmill aptly put it, “After 1995, everything was great. The music was great, the bands were selling.”
The Rise and Evolution of Triple J: A Cultural Force in Australian Music
In the 1990s, Triple J emerged as a defining voice in Australian music, capturing the spirit of a generation and shaping the nation’s cultural landscape. The station became synonymous with the grunge movement, amplifying the sounds of local bands and giving them a platform to reach audiences far beyond their hometowns. For two decades, Triple J wasn’t just a radio station—it was a cultural institution.
“You knew something was happening,” says Richard Kingsmill, a former music director at Triple J and its longest-serving announcer until 2023. “Bands like Spiderbait,the Beasts of Bourbon,or the Cruel Sea were playing to 40 people at Max’s Petersham Inn in Sydney,and suddenly they were winning seven ARIA awards. We were right in the box seat,witnessing this incredible shift.”
By 1995, Triple J had expanded its reach to all regions of Australia, enabling the bands it championed to tour nationally. “After 1995, everything was great,” Kingsmill recalls. “The music was incredible, the bands were selling out shows, and there was a vibrant mix of hip-hop, dance, and rock. We were still playing Midnight Oil, but the diversity of sounds was undeniable.”
As the new millennium approached, Triple J began to shift its focus. The station’s programming, once heavily infused with political and social commentary, became more music-centric. However, the rise of napster and internet piracy in the early 2000s marked the beginning of a new era. Music fans started curating their own playlists, relying less on radio to discover new artists.
Today, Triple J faces the challenges shared by many legacy media outlets. With the rise of platforms like Instagram, TikTok, YouTube, and spotify, artists no longer depend solely on radio to break into the industry.As a result, the station has seen a decline in listeners and influence. Yet, its legacy as a champion of Australian music remains undeniable.
From its golden age in the 1990s to its adaptation in the digital era, Triple J has left an indelible mark on Australia’s cultural fabric. It’s a testament to the power of music to unite, inspire, and evolve—a legacy that continues to resonate with fans old and new.
The Evolving Influence of Triple J in the Digital Age
In an era dominated by algorithm-driven playlists and on-demand entertainment, the role of traditional radio stations like Triple J has shifted dramatically. While the station may no longer hold the same level of dominance it once did, its influence remains significant, particularly in shaping the careers of emerging artists.
“Under 25s all around the world are used to consuming entertainment on demand, curated for them by algorithms which ensure they only see and hear stuff they probably already like,” says an anonymous record label manager. “The idea of tuning into the radio at 7pm to hear the songs most requested by other people is as foreign to them as tuning into the 7pm news or buying a newspaper.”
Despite this shift, triple J and its digital counterpart, Double J, continue to play a pivotal role in the music industry. “Yes, they’re nowhere near as dominant as they were,” the manager admits. “But it is still a tastemaker with knock-on effects like making it more likely for a playlisted band to land a booking on a cool festival. An Unearthed breakout can lead to artists getting noticed by labels and agents. So Triple J still matters, but it matters less than it used to … like all radio stations everywhere.”
Lachlan Macara,the current head of Triple J and Double J,reflects on the station’s evolution. “If you asked that founding crew what they thought the future of vinyl looked like back then, I wonder how many would have predicted how big it is today,” he says. “We’ve been about a lot more than just radio for a long while now, and I think those who get that are able to make the most of all the platforms triple J has [made] available to them.”
Macara points to the success of bands like Royel Otis as evidence of Triple J’s enduring impact. Their breakout performance on the station’s Unearthed platform catapulted them into the spotlight,showcasing how the station continues to serve as a launchpad for new talent.
While the landscape of music consumption has undeniably changed, Triple J’s ability to adapt and innovate ensures its relevance. From live events to digital platforms, the station remains a vital part of the music ecosystem, even as its role evolves in the face of new challenges and opportunities.
How Triple J’s Evolution reflects the Changing Landscape of Australian Music
In the ever-evolving world of music, few platforms have had as profound an impact on Australian culture as Triple J. Known for its commitment to showcasing local talent, the station has long been a cornerstone of the nation’s music scene. However, as the industry shifts toward digital dominance, Triple J finds itself at a crossroads, balancing its legacy with the demands of a new era.
One of the station’s most iconic segments,Like A Version, continues to be a cultural phenomenon. Last year,Royel Otis’s cover of Sophie Ellis-Bextor’s “Murder on the Dancefloor” became a viral sensation,amassing over 30 million combined views on YouTube,TikTok,and Instagram,alongside 60 million streams on Spotify.This success underscores the power of digital platforms in amplifying music far beyond traditional radio.
Yet, as Triple J adapts to the digital age, some argue that it has lost a bit of its original charm. Gone are the days of larger-than-life personalities like Bob Hudson or George Wayne,who brought a sense of unpredictability and individuality to the airwaves. Today, the station operates more like an algorithm, curating playlists designed to maintain a seamless flow for its target audience. While this approach ensures consistency, it often leaves little room for the avant-garde or the unexpected.
“Perhaps the way to return the station to something like its heyday would be to allow for more surprises, more individuality, and more controversy,” suggests one observer. This sentiment resonates with many long-time listeners who yearn for the station’s earlier days, when it was a breeding ground for experimentation and bold artistic choices.
Compounding the issue is the declining presence of Australian music in the global hit parade. With digital platforms largely dominated by international giants, local artists face an uphill battle for visibility. This trend places even greater responsibility on Triple J to champion homegrown talent. As one commentator notes, “It will probably continue to fall on Triple J’s shoulders to save what it can.”
Despite these challenges, Triple J remains a vital force in the Australian music landscape. Its ability to adapt while staying true to its roots will be crucial in shaping the future of the industry. Whether through innovative programming, digital expansion, or a renewed focus on local artists, the station has the potential to reclaim its position as a trailblazer in the world of music.
As the digital age continues to reshape how we consume music, triple J’s journey serves as a microcosm of the broader industry. By embracing change while honoring its legacy, the station can continue to inspire and connect audiences for generations to come.
How is Triple J adapting to the changing landscape of music consumption in the digital age?
Ds itself navigating a new era, balancing its legacy with the demands of a rapidly changing media landscape.
The Golden Age of Triple J
Triple JS rise to prominence in the 1990s was marked by its ability to capture the zeitgeist of Australian youth culture. The station became a vital platform for emerging artists, notably during the grunge and alternative rock boom. Bands like Spiderbait, the Beasts of Bourbon, and the Cruel Sea, who once played to small crowds in local pubs, found national fame through Triple J’s support. The station’s influence extended beyond music, embedding itself in the cultural fabric of Australia by addressing social and political issues relevant to its audience.
Richard Kingsmill, a former music director and long-time announcer, recalls this era as a time of unparalleled energy and creativity.”We were witnessing something special,” he says. “The music was raw, the bands were hungry, and the audience was eager for something new. Triple J was at the heart of it all.”
the Digital Disruption
The early 2000s brought notable challenges to Triple J and the broader music industry. The rise of Napster and other file-sharing platforms disrupted traditional music distribution, while the advent of streaming services like Spotify and YouTube changed how people consumed music.Listeners no longer relied on radio to discover new artists; instead,they turned to algorithm-driven playlists and social media platforms like TikTok and Instagram.
This shift forced Triple J to adapt. The station began to focus more on digital platforms, launching initiatives like Unearthed, which provides a space for unsigned artists to share their music. While these efforts have helped Triple J remain relevant, they also highlight the station’s diminished role as the primary tastemaker in australian music.
Triple J in the Digital Age
Despite these challenges, Triple J continues to play a crucial role in the Australian music ecosystem.The station’s Unearthed platform has become a launching pad for many artists, including Royel Otis, whose breakout success underscores Triple J’s enduring influence. Additionally, the station has expanded its reach through live events, podcasts, and digital content, ensuring it remains a vital part of the music landscape.
Lachlan Macara, the current head of Triple J and Double J, emphasizes the station’s adaptability. “We’ve always been about more than just radio,” he says. “Our goal is to support artists and connect them with audiences, no matter how they choose to consume music.”
The Future of Triple J
As Triple J looks to the future, it faces the dual challenge of preserving its legacy while embracing innovation. The station’s ability to evolve in response to changing trends will determine its continued relevance. While it may no longer hold the same level of dominance it once did, Triple J’s commitment to fostering Australian talent ensures it remains a cultural force.
In a world where music consumption is increasingly fragmented, Triple J’s role as a unifying platform for Australian artists and audiences is more significant than ever. By continuing to adapt and innovate,the station can maintain its position as a cornerstone of the nation’s music scene,even as the industry continues to evolve.
conclusion
From its golden age in the 1990s to its adaptation in the digital era, Triple J has left an indelible mark on Australian music. Its ability to champion emerging artists, reflect the cultural zeitgeist, and adapt to changing technologies has ensured its enduring relevance. as the music industry continues to evolve, Triple J’s legacy as a cultural institution and a champion of Australian talent remains secure.
