Sad to hear today that the immensely likeable Alec Wishart,
the co-founder of Hogsnort Rupert, has died.
Alec was the charismatic front man who uttered the famous
line “Come on, my lover, give us a kiss” from the band’s nonsensical 1970 hit Pretty Girl, which spent three weeks at
No 1 on the New Zealand pop chart.
He remained with the band through multiple incarnations and
was reportedly looking forward to a gig later this year when he died yesterday,
aged 76.
I first encountered Hogsnort Rupert, then known as Hogsnort
Rupert’s Original Flagon Band, in 1968, when the band I was with played at a dance
organised by the Wellington Diamond United Football Club.
Hogsnort Rupert, who hadn’t long been formed, played a guest
spot that night. They were all working-class English lads, drawn together
initially by a love of football.
Their skiffle-inspired music was rough and ready but infectiously
energetic and exuberant, much like the guys themselves. Guitarist, singer and
songwriter Dave Luther was the serious musician of the band, and its driving
force, but it was Alec’s engaging personality that people noticed.
An appearance on TV’s Studio
One talent quest led to them being signed by HMV Records. Knowing I was a
fan, their producer, the late Peter Dawkins – later to become one of the most
influential figures in the Australian music industry – got me to write the
sleeve notes for their first album: All
Our Own Work! (still available, I noticed recently, on Trade Me).
The original lineup didn’t last long. A couple of the
members got religion, after which the band was rebranded as Hogsnort Rupert,
with Alec and Dave still forming the core, as they would do for the next
40-plus years. (When I passed up an invitation to join them as bass player, my
flatmate and journalism colleague John Newton dusted off his old Hofner bass
and became a member of Hogsnort Rupert just in time to play on Pretty Girl, one of the biggest and most
enduring New Zealand hits of the era.)
The Hogsnorts had two more Top 10 hits, Aubrey and Aunty Alice, before
their recording career subsided. Being essentially a novelty band, their chart
history was probably bound to be brief. But they remained popular as a live
act, and few New Zealand bands have been regarded with more affection.
That was largely due to Alec, who was one of those
performers whose personality took on an extra dimension when he was on stage.
But he was an engaging man in private too – witty, amiable and ego-free. All those
who knew him will be grieving.
4 comments:
Karl - correct me if I am wrong but I am pretty sure Alec Wishart was working as an electrician in Napier. Not too long ago either.
As one of the many who knew him, I absolutely grieve.
Justin du Fresne
For several years in the 90s I had a contract that required me to overnight in Napier and the Maraenui pub was my place.. The first time I went there I saw the record disc on the wall behind and then the face of mein host serving me and that was it. I went out of my way to stay there and yarn with Alec.
We did the band at the first visit but thereafter it was just meeting an old mate as he had time from his duties.
Like you say, a lovely comfortable guy.
JC
Ah, takes me right back to the endless Summers of my childhood in early 70s Titahi Bay. Everyone loved Hogsnort Rupert and, in particular, frontman Wishart. For some reason, I always associate him with John Clarke's first appearance on our screens in Buck House. Two blokes with a dry sense of humour making waves in the entertainment business at roughly the same time, I guess.
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