Eric Bogle is one of my heroes (and one of the reasons for my chosen name) but it’s definitely the case that he got where he was by a program of sustained and melodious complaining.  His most famous song, And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda, is one man complaining about World War 1 and about losing his legs, and then about nobody showing up to ANZAC Day marches any more.  His best songs complain about bushfires, death, family, travel, apartheid, cats, dogs, foreigners (tongue firmly in cheek), folk music audiences (ditto) and life in general.  And he does it well!  As a whingeing pom (well, Scotsman) he is the apotheosis of the form.

And then there’s Dan. This one is just a “poor little old me” whinge from first word to last.  But the funny thing is: everything he complains about, in a song about life in Australia in the 1980s, sounds aspirational to anyone living in the 2020s.  So I figured it was time I updated his song to reflect the new reality.

Notice that, unusually for me, this filk is shorter than the original by about sixty verses.  That’s because Mr Bogle was born in the days before editing was invented.  Nowadays, brevity is cherished somewhat more, because we’re all much, much closer to the end of time.

November 2021

I’m pleased to meet you, my name’s Dan
And I’m a whingeing eighties man
My rent is less than half my pay
Yet somehow that’s too steep
My kids can all live on the dole
No RoboDebt to eat their soul
With Hawkie in the Lodge, I’m so
Oppressed that I can’t sleep

Those hard years in a stable job
Working for some Aussie mob
They make me pay my union fees
And sometimes go on strike
The CEO’s no millionaire
He’s just some bloke who got up there
By graduating Uni —
God, it’s like the damn Third Reich
Have you ever seen the like?

I live in a house, and have for years
No serious eviction fears
The Real Estate has not heard
About AirBnB
Feeding three kids on a single wage
Until they each turn legal age
When getting a job and then a flat
Is something they can see

All those years of full-time sweat
Sometimes climbing out of debt
I often look back on them
And I feel so sick and tired
I didn’t get a good degree
Although it would have all been free
I said there’s time for that stuff
When I’m happily retired
If I feel so inspired

But a man’s life can’t be calm or sure
When lived in fear of nuclear war
The Soviets could press a switch
And leave us glowing dead
But still, if somehow we survive
There’s every chance we’ll even thrive
It’s not like any other threat
Is looming overhead

I’m pleased to meet you, my name’s Dan
And I’m a whingeing eighties man
My rent is less than half my pay
Yet somehow that’s too steep
My kids can all live on the dole
No RoboDebt to eat their soul
With Hawkie in the Lodge, I’m so
Oppressed that I can’t sleep

I’m pleased to meet you, my name’s Dan
And I’m a whingeing eighties man