In late 1981 on Hunters and Collectors second tour to NSW, we played the far Northern Beaches for the first time. The major venue at the time was Avalon RSL or the ‘Rissole’ to the locals. The place was packed to the gunwales with the Northern Beaches crowd, a goodly number of them from the local surf crews.

They were a raucous, rambunctious, exuberant crowd, seemingly having a goodly knowledge of the songs on our first EP.

These songs, especially any with a semblance of a chorus, were belted out with much gusto by the sweat-soaked crowd, a ragged, boisterous choir of hundreds. Their enthusiasm was infectious. We played with a fresh wind in our sails, carried along by the general bonhomie, soaked to the skin in our own sweat.

One particular raucous group of slightly, inebriated young men, obviously under the influence of various substances, along with copious amounts of fine ale, insisted, between songs, on bellowing the refrain from a track I’d written the lyrics to, ‘Loin Clothing’. The refrain was just a reputation of the phrase ‘Flesh to Flesh to’.

When we finally performed ‘Loin Clothing’, as our last song of the evening, this particular group went absolutely berserk.

We left the stage, soaked and sweaty, fully intending to play an encore, but desperately needing a breather and a water break.

Suddenly, a phalanx of eight members of the raucous group came bursting into the band room, led by two very intense, wiry young chaps,  one smaller and blonde, the other taller and dark. They were accompanied by a fellow who introduced himself as Duke Bombora; a ruggedly handsome fellow with a profile not unlike The Sphinx before it lost its nose.

“If you don’t do another song,” declared, The Duke, “We’re going to kill you, me ...