I don’t even remember how I bumped into the Youtube video of the Seekers performing “I’ll Never Find Another You”. I’m sure I have not heard this song in 40 years– not since I heard it– overheard it, really– in the 1960’s, in the period shortly after it’s original release. It was a cross-over hit, a big one, for a young group from Australia, who stumbled into the songwriter, Dusty Springfield’s brother Tom, while touring as unknowns in England in 1964.
You would think this is a cliché: I’ll never find another you. Of course not. That’s what they all say in the first blush of infatuation. The odd thing is, it’s probably true, in more ways than one. We are all unique individuals, of course. But it is also true that finding someone compatible, whom you love, and who loves you back, and who wants to live with you and have children with you, is not really all that common. Sure most people get married. Most people have bad marriages. Most people get divorced.
If they gave to me a fortune
My treasure would be small
I could lose it all tomorrow
And never mind at all
But if I should lose your love dear,
I don’t know what I’d do
For I know I’ll never find another you.
The strange thing about those lines– I believe them, when sung by Judith Durham. Perhaps it’s the lack of desperation in her voice– it’s a calm, measured delivery, that reminds me of the characters in the movie “Once”: two people who quietly take the measure of each other, and are too smart to end up making ridiculous boasts. And, after all, didn’t Judith Durham walk away from a fortune when she left the Seekers in 1968 to pursue her first love– jazz? That’s the real “crazy heart”.
The saddest, most affecting lines are these:
It’s a long long journey
So stay here by my side
As we walk through the storms,
you’ll be my guide
This video is from their 1968 farewell concert, and was the last time they performed the song, before the inevitable 25-year reunion. None of them had a notable career, really, outside of the band. If you watch the 25th anniversary performance of this song and then jump back to the 1968 performance, you realize that it was indeed a long, long journey, and life has left its mark on all of them.
I was surprised at how good a singer Judith Durham was. You don’t see the power in her voice coming– she just quietly delivers the lyrics, intelligently, with a good feel for tempo, and then suddenly raises her voice for emphasis, then quietly draws it back in. This is what used to called tasteful. Not as spectacular as Janis Joplin, but if you are not Janis Joplin, you could do a lot worse. She reminds me of Judy Collins that way.
But mostly I just love the glasses on Athol Guy (playing the double bass). And the name.
The Seekers were regarded as somewhat “commercial” in their day. They were “sell-outs”, more interested in popularity than purity, in the same way that Peter, Paul, and Mary were regarded as sell-outs. The odd thing is that PP&M were relatively political– they marched with Martin Luther King Jr.– whereas the Seekers were not.
So what is commercial? Today, it’s light shows, faked performances (lip-synching is everywhere), revealing costumes, choreography. If the Seekers were “sell-outs” in the 1960’s, by today’s standards they seem as pure and unsullied as Odetta.
The suits are nifty. Judith Durham wears an elegant if dull dress. They barely move on stage. I admit I like it. It’s about the music. Not the purest folk music on the planet, and not particularly innovative– just nifty and pure and sweet.
Judith Durham has one of the few really great voices of popular music: exquisitely pure and subtle and effortlessly supple. Some others:
- Judy Collins
- Susan Jacks (The Poppy Family)
- Jennifer Warnes
- Art Garfunkel
- Jimmy Morrison
- Emmy Lou Harris
- Elvis (yes, he did)
- Janis Jopli