Rock 'n' Roll Is King

Well, Zoo Freaks, the Zoo Crew just dropped the needle on Jimmy Barnes tearing through Rock 'n' Roll Is King and it hits like a freight train coming down the tracks. This one is a cover of the old Rose Tattoo number from their Assault & Battery album way back in 1981, and Barnes cut it as a tip of the hat to his old mate Gary Angry Anderson after Angry left us. Barnes had spoken to Angry about covering the song for his last album Defiant, and Angry was all for it. They recorded a version that Barnes loved, but for some reason it did not make the final record. He never got the chance to sit down with Angry and play it for him, and that stings a bit when you think about all the years they spent crossing paths on the same endless tours through every bar that would let a rock band turn it up loud. Barnes put it out there with all the proceeds going to Support Act, the charity that looks after music industry folks when they need a hand. He said he just wanted to tip his hat to his mate and let the world know what great songs Angry and his band wrote. Turn it up loud, he told everyone, because Angry has gone to the Big Gig upstairs but he is probably still listening. That whole stretch of Australian pub rock when Cold Chisel and Rose Tattoo were both out there taking the establishment by the throat, sharing stages, sharing crew, even sharing gear at times, that is what this song sums up for Barnes. Rock and roll was king and they were all young and full of it. One of the Boys might be one of his all time favorite rock songs, but Rock 'n' Roll Is King captured the whole ethos for him. It drove them and it made them who they are. You can hear the weight of those shared gigs and those lost venues like the Lifesaver and the Bombay Rock in the way he sings it now.

Barnes grew up on the tough side of things and the music was always the way out. He was born James Dixon Swan in Glasgow, Scotland, back in 1956, into a rough neighborhood where the booze and the fights were just part of the furniture. His family packed up and headed for Adelaide, South Australia, when he was about five years old, looking for something better. They landed in Elizabeth, a satellite town outside Adelaide that did not have a whole lot going for the kids once they hit their teens. There was not much to do except get into trouble, and Barnes learned how to scrap pretty quick. His older brother John, who later became the singer Swanee, was the one who got him into singing. Barnes has said he was already wild before he even joined a band, running with gangs and all that. He took an apprenticeship in a foundry with the South Australian Railways when he left school, but that did not last long. Music pulled harder. For a short stretch he even stepped into Fraternity after Bon Scott had moved on to AC/DC. Then in 1973, still just sixteen or so, he joined the band that would become Cold Chisel. They were called Orange at first, with Don Walker on keys and songs, Ian Moss on guitar, Steve Prestwich on drums, and Les Kaczmarek on bass. Those early years were pure chaos. They would play the pubs, get hammered, fight each other, and somehow keep the thing going. It took a while before they got signed because they were so volatile, but once Don Walker brought in Khe Sanh at a rehearsal it started to click. Barnes has talked about how that first record felt a bit tame compared to what they did live, but the songs had real weight once they hit the stage.

Leaving Cold Chisel at the end of 1983 was terrifying for him. He was only twenty seven and the only thing he wanted was to get back out there singing rock and roll in front of people without waiting around for comparisons. He put together a solo band quick and cut Bodyswerve, which went straight to number one. Then came For the Working Class Man and that title track that became his signature. Jonathan Cain wrote it after meeting Barnes and hearing the earlier stuff, figuring the audience was working class folks who just wanted to kick their heels up on a Saturday night. Barnes has always said the song was about them more than about him. The hits kept coming through the eighties and nineties, from Freight Train Heart to Soul Deep, and he has racked up more number one albums in Australia than just about anybody, more than the Beatles in his home territory. Through all of it the voice stayed that raw, raspy yell that could cut through any room. He has covered a few Rose Tattoo tunes over the years because the connection ran deep. They shared the same circuit when both bands were young and hungry, and members of the Tatts even spent time in Barnes bands later on. That shared history is why this particular song lands so heavy for him now. It is not just another cover. It is a memory of those nights when rock and roll really did feel like it ruled everything.

You can dig deeper into all of this over at the official Jimmy Barnes website, where the biography lays out the whole arc from the Glasgow kid to the Cold Chisel frontman to the solo years and the books he has written about it all. He is still out there on the road with the Working Class Man anniversary shows and other dates, and the site keeps the tour news and the stories coming. Follow along on the official Facebook page for the updates and the family photos and the little bits of life he shares. The Instagram account has the same energy, with the live shots and the behind the scenes stuff. And on X he posts the short notes from the road and the reminders about where the band is heading next. There is a solid Cold Chisel Fans group on Facebook where a lot of the old and new supporters still gather to talk about the songs and the shows, and Barnes still gets plenty of love in there even when the conversation drifts back to the Chisel days. All of it fits right in with what we do here at THE ZOO, spinning the deep cuts and the stories for the Zoo Freaks who still want their rock and roll with some backbone. Barnes has been through the excess and the crashes and the comebacks, and he still sings like the music is the only thing that ever made sense. That is why a song like Rock 'n' Roll Is King belongs on the turntable right now, loud enough that the neighbors might complain but the rest of us know exactly what he means.