When colour TV was introduced to Australia back in 1975 it did more than bring much joy to a nation of couch potatoes. It just so happened to coincide with the onslaught of a very colourful – both physically and lyrically - Melbourne band named Skyhooks and their undeniably classic debut long-player Livin’ in the ‘70s. When they were mixed with the ABC’s religious weekly pop experience that was Countdown, well – the rest truly is history.

With a lack of promotional clips to fill their running time, the people at Countdown were keen to make their own – and who better to do it with than this gaggle of larrikins with a theatrical bent that saw them dressing up like lost day-glo children of Bowie and Alice Cooper? While the official singles such as the album’s titular track and Horror Movie proved great fodder, the rest of the album’s tracks weren’t quite as suitable – at least to the ears of those fuddy-duddy censors who are probably suffering conniption fit aftershocks to this day from the likes of Balwyn Calling and Smut.

But the follow-up album was quick – Ego is Not a Dirty Word – and the ‘Hooks cleaned up their act enough to provide more welcome sustenance for the willing telly show, which had almost single-handedly been responsible for the band’s meteoric rise on the Australian pop charts – and for gaining the affections of those screaming hormone-soaked types for whom Dazza Braithwaite and Sherbet just weren’t quite cool enough.

The inevitable attempts at breaking overseas ensued – not necessarily the least challenging of exercises when your lyrics read like they were plucked from a Melbourne street directory – and when you‘re out of sight, you’re out of mind... Line-up changes followed, as did a few decent singles, but Skyhooks then had to regroup and come up with something to stun the complacent fans back into line. Sadly, other than for possibly the band’s crowning achievement – the rip-roaring Women in Uniform – it just didn’t happen. Singer Graeme ‘Shirley� Strachan fobbed some woeful solo releases on us, then found solace by nicking off and playing with a puppet crow and bloke in a kangaroo suit on telly. Without that distinctive voice up front the rest of the band eventually realised – after a rather lame attempt at a replacement – that they were, basically, stuffed.

The meat of this release is 15 promo clips – including many which will bring memories flooding back for Countdown disciples, plus a couple even the band members’ Mums would be hard-pressed to remember (or want to) – gathered together with over half an hour of live tracks ranging from ’74 through to a reunion in ’83. It’s a great memento of a band that was very much of its time, even if they didn’t actually have as many classic hit singles as our RC Cola-addled old memories may lead us to believe...

Naturally this all comes to us in full frame, and while some of the shot to video stuff comes up quite magically, some of the film clips – Blue Jeans in particular – are riddled with grain and suffer from being quite washed out (bad pun not intended...) and rather fuzzy. The live footage is about as good as you’d expect when keeping in mind the lack of historical importance placed on keeping pop music footage in this country looked after, but it most certainly isn’t great. Hey, at least the more recently shot extra stuff all scrubs up pretty spiffily!

Sonically, all the clips have had the audio replaced with fabulous CD-quality, Dolby Digital 2.0 sound, and no more could be asked for. Live stuff fares less better and will have audio-snobs tearing their ears off Van Gogh style, but this is one for the fans and it’s doubtful you’d hear a murmur of complaint from their quarters – it’s better to have crap sound than nothing at all.

After goggling at the wonderfully ‘70s styled animated menus, we dive into the few extra goodies that have been assembled, starting with an option entitled Bonus Hooks. Divided into four sections, there’s a mixture of the good and the not so good here. The 16 or so minutes of rehearsal footage and stuffing about in the wilds of Warrandyte at Gotham Recorders back in ’94 for that dreaded reunion will be of interest only to the most passionate of fans, however all is not lost. There’s also a 16 minute doco from the ABC which dates back to around 1977, and you know it’s going to be a treat when the drier than the Simpson Desert narrator opens with, “This is a rock’n’roll band�. It showcases the somewhat deflated Hooks on their return from overseas, and their recording with an American producer who just doesn’t understand the lingo. The other must-see is 18 minutes of interviews recorded with original members Greg Macainsh, Bongo Starkie and Fred Strauks mid-2002. The interviewer has been cruelly cut, but the questions are good and the answers are both fun and frank. A gallery ensues, offering up a vast array of photos, plus a collection of very Aussie gig posters and Mushroom promotional material. A pleasingly thorough discography brings great joy, as it’s wonderfully thorough. All the albums – including compilations and live releases – are listed, complete with covers, details on single releases, awards won and occasional trivia. Most all of the tracks are available to listen to in snippet form, too.

Anybody with more than a passing interest in Skyhooks and their legacy will be breaking out the Twisties and finding themselves hooked on the ‘Hooks all over again with this well-compiled release. Be warned though, it does feature the ill-advised attempt at former glories that was Jukebox in Siberia. What’s that? It was a massive hit? Yes, well that still doesn’t mean it was ever any good...