The Bowery Boys 1965-66
Neville Peard [dr]
Robbie Van Delft [lead gtr, vcls]
Paul Wade [bs, vcls]
Greg Walker [rhythm gtr]

Mike was born in London in 1948 and emigrated with his family to Brisbane at an early age. In mid-’65 at around age 16, he chanced to meet Paul Wade and Neville Peard on a suburban train journey, and got to discussing music and the fact that he was keen on singing. A friendship and alliance soon grew among the lads. Wade and Peard had already formed a garage band with Greg Walker and Robbie Van Delft that evolved into the Bowery Boys, and upon meeting Mike they invited him join as lead singer.

It must be stressed that in the beginning the band was definitely a single entity, The Bowery Boys, not "Mike Furber and…". It was only after flamboyant impresario Ivan Dayman spotted Furber and offered the young outfit recording and performing opportunities with his burgeoning Sunshine Records empire, that attention became more firmly focussed on the lead singer. Dayman’s intention was to establish Mike Furber as a pop idol in his own right along the lines of Normie Rowe, with whom Dayman had already achieved enormous national success. Writer, collector and pop scholar (the late) Dean Mittelhauser (from whose article in Australian Record Collector much of this profile is drawn) doesn't have much nice to say about Ivan Dayman's involvement with Furber – "boy, could I tell you a few stories about him!" – and intimates that coming from suspicious and inauspicious beginnings himself, the entrepreneur was bent on grooming Mike for solo stardom more or less from the outset, intending all along to edge the band out of the spotlight. Hence, the billing as Mike Furber & the Bowery Boys.

Mike had a limited vocal range but used his voice to maximum effect. His deep timbre belied the cute and appealing "little boy lost" look portrayed in his promo photos. Here, certainly, was Dayman’s future Rowe-style superstar in the making and, to paraphrase the old paradigm, "the little girls understood". Furber and band for a short time stormed national stages to a general response of screaming hysteria.

Beginning with the gritty and confident-sounding group-composed Just A Poor Boy, the band achieved moderate chart success but attracted intent industry scrutiny. They followed up with a commanding cover of Graham Gouldman & the The Mockingbirds’ You Stole My Love. It sounds like the backing vocals on this one were provided by Sunshine labelmates Marcie Jones & the Cookies, though this assumption needs to be verified. A smart and tight single, nevertheless. Interestingly enough, this 45 was released concurrently on the Sunshine and Kommotion labels, territorially, although both issues had similar catalogue numbers and were, after all, pressed and distributed by parent company Festival. Discuss that among yourselves, trainspotters…

The third and last Mike Furber "... & The Bowery Boys" single, is also their best -- the joyous, punky That’s When The Happiness Began. It's a high-energy riff-a-rama with touches of feedback, making it one of the earlier Australian recordings to feature this device. Dean Mittelhauser cited it as every bit as good as companion versions from Grains Of Sand (US) and The Montanas (UK) and his assessment is spot on. Undoubtedly it was done in a single take; yes, the playing is a little "loose" by modern standards, the singing not always exactly in tune; of course it shows an obvious debt to The Kinks -- but what it might lack in finesse it more than makes up for in spirit and sound. We're not yet sure who produced this -- being a Sunshine release, our money is on Pat Aulton- - but we would appreciate further information, because it's a killer recording. It's of its time, and yet still compares more than favourably with later interpretations of the style by acts like The Romantics or even Green Day. It's available on Devil's Children, Vol. 1 and is a must-have for any serious Australian collection. Its oft-overlooked flip, You, is a cool punk ballad, if you can imagine such a thing.

It was at this point (around August ’66) that Furber and the Bowery Boys parted ways, which was a real shame because they showed signs of developing into a seriously interesting band. Over to Dean Mittelhauser to explain the unfortunate rift:

In October ’67, Go-Set magazine plugged Furber’s next single, Bring Your Love Back Home with the banner headline "Mike Furber Back On The Scene", and reported:

And indeed, Mike disappeared from public view for 18 months or so, only to emerge in 1969 with a fresh EMI-Columbia deal and finally free of Ivan Dayman’s clutches. But was this to mean a form of settlement for Furber? Another mediocre chart performance with his EMI single debut, There’s No Love Left was less than encouraging, but a further heartbreak occurred when the follow-up single, a multi-faceted suite (spread over two sides of the 45), specially composed for Mike by The Easybeats’ Harry Vanda and George Young, failed to ignite the imagination of punters and programmers alike. The remarkably innovative I’m On Fire / Watch Me Burn was thus lost, as secret gems sometimes are.

Furthering his involvement with Albert Productions, in May 1970 Mike recorded two tracks for the company, Helen Jane and Love Song (the former written by neophyte songsmith Ted Mulry). These tracks were unaccountably never released, and the demise of Mike’s recording career was nigh.

All of this comes across as a pretty gloomy saga, doesn’t it? Well, worse was yet to come… In June 1970 Furber undertook a national tour with The Sect and Doug Parkinson In Focus, as support acts to visiting Motown legends The Four Tops. Without much to really prompt him, Go-Set reporter Stephen MacLean saw fit to scathingly slag Mike’s performance thus:

Dean Mittelhauser espouses more detailed analyses and certain conspiracy theories in his writings about Mike Furber, including speculation that Furber may in fact have been murdered due to various underworld involvements. But we at Milesago prefer to marvel along with you readers at the great sides that the undeniably talented Mike cut while he was one of the coolest rockers going. He was only 25 when he died, but he looked just like a fifteen year old boy, while sounding like the weariest and saddest of old men…

Listening to the early MF singles, it’s easy to detect a more than passing nod to his and The Bowery Boys’ sound in the early-80s recorded output of The Sunnyboys, to name just one OzRock outfit obviously heavily influenced. And the demand among avid collectors for original pressings of Furber’s records has anything but abated over the years. The fascination with, and ardour for the music and story of Mike Furber can only continue to grow as we all investigate that wondrous early-60s period of Aussie Rock. But as we indulge ourselves in that way, may dear Mike rest in (rockin’) peace.

NB: Ironically, the flipside of Mike Furber & the Bowery Boys’ sophomore single was titled It’s Gonna Work Out Fine…

Paul Culnane. November 1999.

• Baker, Glenn A. – sleeve notes on Five By Four LP
• Culnane, P G – personal archives and reminisces
• McFarlane, Ian - Australian Encyclopedia of Rock & Pop (1999)
• Mittelhauser, Dean – Australian Record Collector, Vol. 2, No. 4

© 1999. ICE Productions. All rights reserved.