Remembering Ollie Olsen: 20 February 1958 to 16 October 2024

 

It’s been a while – seven years to be exact – since the last issue of Astrobabble (#15/Aquarius) and an Astrobabylon entry. At the time, I was in two minds about continuing both because their left brain treatment requires commitment – reading, researching, writing and analysing an individual’s cosmic blueprint with the limited understanding I have of the ocean that is astrology. 

Placing distance between Astrobabble/Astrobabylon and myself has given me time to reflect on a few things: why I started zine and blog, what my aims were, and what I wanted readers to take away. All interesting questions that writers usually ask themselves. To that, I can answer that they are exercises in getting inside a creative’s astrological DNA, to examine what makes them exceptional. With the help of astrology, I attempt to crack the fame code, if such a thing exists, and search for the x factor that elevates luminaries like Nick Cave and David Bowie from the rest of us. I can’t say that my investigations have always been fruitful but it has been one of the most fascinating rabbit holes I’ve toppled into. 

This special issue of Astrobabble is dedicated to Ollie Olsen, a legend in Melbourne’s underground music scene and a triple Piscean (Sun/Moon/Ascendant) who died in October 2024 after a long illness. It’s fitting that I return to Astrobabble with such a creative and sensitive character to unpack, given Ollie’s pivotal connection with the subject of my last issue (Michael Hutchence). 

If you’d like a copy, please get in touch at this blogspot or m_zarro@hotmail.com. Alternatively, you can pick up a copy at Repressed Records and Red Eye Records in Sydney, and at The Sticky Institute in Melbourne. Below is an excerpt:

Sun, Moon and Ascendant in Pisces – the Ocean
Tom Waits once called Bob Dylan ‘a planet everyone should explore’. If Dylan is the planet up for exploration, then Ollie Olsen is the ocean worthy of a deep dive. Born with the Sun, Moon and Ascendant in Pisces, Olsen’s character was emotionally deep, overly sensitive and movingly empathetic. Drummer Peter Luscombe said of Olsen that he openly and unashamedly displayed tenderness, sometimes at inappropriate times. Olsen admitted in an interview with Jane Gazzo that he cried every day and even during movie trailers! 

Pisceans are old souls, embodying the qualities of every sign of the zodiac. Pisceans are not here to seek external validation but to share their wisdom. Olsen was a mentor to many (Saturn in the tenth house). He encouraged and supported emerging artists, was generous with his comprehensive musical knowledge, and agreed to interviews or performances, usually for little or no money, to support young creatives.

Both Neptune and Jupiter are Pisces’ ruling planets. They are important in Olsen’s chart because they form a Stellium with the North Node in Scorpio in the ninth house of the higher mind, philosophy, travel, and scientific and religious pursuits. Recognising the value of a guiding belief system or philosophy is crucial with Jupiter as chart ruler in the ninth. Olsen remained open to exploring possibilities and expanding his mental horizons (usually with the use of illicit substances). For example, during the Max Q period, a particularly intense acid trip, where Olsen claimed to be 'off' for two days, became a pivotal moment in his life. He described it as having died and been reborn. It changed him completely. 

The incident sparked a deep fascination with spiritual and psychic realms that stayed with him for the rest of his life. He explored Tibetan philosophy, various Vedic texts on Samsara (the cycle of rebirth) and Maya (the idea of the external world being an illusion), and Jean Baudrillard’s philosophical treatise Simulacra and Simulation (1981), about the relationship of reality, symbols and society. 

He developed a love of Norse culture and philosophy after spending four months in Norway (his father’s birthplace) with his family in 1969, as a ten-year-old. The experience was so profound that he returned to the country in his early twenties and worked in a fish factory (how Piscean). Some years later, he legally changed his birth name to Ollie Jngbert Christian to better reflect his heritage.

Favourable aspects from Jupiter to the Sun and Ascendant create what I call the ‘Santa Claus persona’- a ‘jolly’ and good-natured individual, generous and well-liked, with a positive outlook regardless of what life throws at them. You just need to cruise the many social media posts dedicated to Ollie to feel the love. 

Born on the New Moon, exited at Full Moon, Ollie Jngbert Christian Olsen fulfilled his purpose and was ‘called home' on 16 October 2024 at the Royal Melbourne Hospital. He is survived by his sister Marie-Ann and his wife Jayne, who dedicated herself to his care during his final years. His extensive contribution leaves an enduring legacy in Australian music. Bless you, Ols. See you in Valhalla.

Michael Hutchence: Home Grown Rock Star

Music writer Toby Creswell once said that whatever you think of INXS’ style or music, you can’t deny the charisma of Michael Hutchence in his prime. It’s taken me nearly forty years to realise this. Slow or what? I am making up for it with the new issue of Astrobabble (#15), which is dedicated to the sexy Water Bearer and all things Aquarian.

In true Aquarian fashion, Michael Hutchence was an intriguing individual who sort recognition as an underground artist of the Nick Cave variety. Having fallen short of that ambition due to his commitment to INXS and an early death (at age thirty-seven), it’s this aspect of the man I find fascinating. 

Creating this issue has been an inquisitive voyage. My research confirms that all things are connected. INXS was formed in the Farriss brothers’ family home – in the garage of a house not dissimilar to my own family home, in a suburb not dissimilar to that of my adolescence - in Sydney’s north. Michael’s memorial in the grounds of the Northern Suburbs Crematorium in North Ryde is within the vicinity of my parents' house. Both Hutch and I have our Ascendant at twenty-eight degrees Capricorn. I can safely say that the similarities end there. 

Since creating this issue, I have taken to visiting Michael’s memorial regularly (on the way to mum and dad’s place), bringing gifts of flowers, candles and books. Each visit is coloured by an unexpected event, such as the time I was mistaken for Michael’s step-mother, Susie Hutchence, by the crematorium’s manager. It’s the closest I’ll get to fame and fortune.

The following is an extract from Astrobabble (#15): 

INXS’ 1987 album Kick marks the band’s imperial phase for which they are celebrated. The now-familiar tunes Mystify and Need You Tonight reflect the sonic template the band would use from this point onwards to generate international hit singles and platinum record sales. It deviated from Michael’s original vision of what it meant to be an artist. He reached a point where he wanted to explore other areas, glimpses of which surfaced as early as 1981 when he collaborated with Cold Chisel’s Don Walker on the raucous Speed Kills from the soundtrack to Scott Hicks’ film Freedom.

By 1989, aged twenty-nine, the very Saturnian Michael Hutchence began feeling the inklings of his first (and only) Saturn Return linking into the beginnings of the major planetary aspect of Uranus conjunct Neptune in Capricorn. Michael would have experienced a profound internal shift that mirrored events in his outer world. On a global level, it was a time of revolution – the Tiananmen Square massacres, the dismantling of apartheid in South Africa, the fall of the Berlin Wall in Germany and the creation of the world wide web. The stirrings caused by this waxing aspect would have urged Hutch to revise his inner values. The paradox contained deep within him began to emerge. In Western astrology, the Return at age twenty-nine is the individual’s separation from the parental mould. By this stage, Michael was residing mostly in Hong Kong, for tax purposes, having finally severed his long-term relationship with Michele Bennett, although they remained friends until the end of his life. It became obvious to those around him that he was outgrowing the INXS family and needed a break from its sound, which had become safe and ubiquitous. Craving the space to unleash his inner-Nick Cave, the musician he always aspired to be, Hutch called underground luminary Ollie Olsen and suggested they make music together.

Ollie Olsen emerged from the Little Bands scene of inner Melbourne in the late 1970s, forming, among other groups, the Young Charlatans with Rowland S Howard, later of Boys Next Door/Birthday Party fame. Olsen’s electronic unit, Whirlywirld, was revered by Richard Lowenstein who asked him to be musical director on Dogs In Space (1986), a feature-length movie set in Melbourne’s post-punk era of which both Olsen and Lowenstein were an integral part. Michael was cast in the lead role as a thinly disguised Sam Sejavka from new wave group the Ears (and later, Beargarden). The closing credits of Dogs In Space feature a song Olsen wrote for Whirlywirld – Rooms for the Memory – that Michael sang with such conviction and edge that it unnerved some members of the INXS camp:

‘… we all listened to the finished song … everyone was speechless. It really was a turning point – the band [INXS] heard what Michael could do without INXS’ – Michael’s friend, Bruce Butler

Max Q was a psychedelic-electronic-dance-rock band comprised of musicians interconnected within Melbourne underground bands like the Reals, No, and Orchestra of Skin and Bone. Michael wanted to make an alternative record and Olsen wanted to make a pop record. They met somewhere in the middle. Max Q’s only album release meshes funk, rock and industrial trance with an anti-establishment flavour. It was in keeping with Michael’s Aquarian ideals. Olsen impelled him to explore places he left dormant:

‘I got back my lust for music through Max Q. I had to realise that there are other people I can play with and there are other songs that can be written. When I sat down and did that with Max Q, it renewed it all’ – Michael Hutchence

Melbourne experienced a golden period in the 1980s, producing a dynamic and eclectic music scene that embraced electronic/dance music and nightclub culture. It suited Michael’s innovative Aquarian nature. It was important for him to be accepted and respected by Melbourne’s underground:

‘He [Michael] was absolutely smitten with the Melbourne scene and the bands that came out of it … he loved the Birthday Party and early Hunters and Collectors … he maintained lifelong friendships with the people he met from that scene, including myself, Sean Kelly, Richard Lowenstein, Ollie Olsen … and eventually Nick Cave’ – former Hunters and Collectors percussionist, Greg Perano

Max Q represented a special peak, professionally and personally, for Michael Hutchence. The band blitzed the 1989 Rolling Stone Australian readers and critics’ poll, Way of the World reached number eight on the singles chart, and the album peaked at number thirteen. The road already travelled and the virgin track stretching ahead intersect at the Saturn Return. Max Q could have taken Hutch down an obscure but authentic path, leading to a more radical and fulfilling life. But INXS management had other plans. Chris Murphy didn’t want his main cash cow squandering himself on these underground types, taking musical risks and having a good time doing it. He felt Michael’s creative projects outside of INXS threatened the band’s future. Murphy regulated any serious publicity for Max Q, restricting Michael from giving interviews to promote the album, and limiting single releases in the US and Japan where INXS had sizeable followings. Hutch’s frustration and anger festered. By the time INXS reassembled for the album X in 1990, the momentum was lost. It would never reach the levels of the pre-Kick era. It marked a dark phase where Michael grew increasingly bitter, bitchy and cynical (negative expression of Sun square Moon) and from which he would never return:

‘He wanted to deconstruct what he was. He wanted to be taken more seriously as an artist and he was more than INXS and more than the sex symbol image. He wanted to be more respected by critics and not seen as a fluffy pop star. Michael had a hell of a lot more to him than people realise. We were just on the cusp of something’ – Ollie Olsen

Vivienne Westwood: Punk, Malcolm McLaren and Beyond

It's International Women's Day. I am paying homage to one of my all-time favourite females, Vivienne Westwood, with an extract from the latest issue of Astrobabble (#14).
 
 
One of the main features of Vivienne Westwood’s natal chart is the placement of the Sun (Aries), Moon (Leo) and Rising sign (Sagittarius) in fire signs, so we expect her to make a dramatic impact. Vanity is a potential fault. She once boasted that she gains undivided male attention in a room full of beautiful women. Fashion entrepreneur Gene Krell said of Westwood, as punk rock catalyst in the 1970s, that ‘her attitude, her body language, her look was striking – it took your breath away’.

 

She is attracted to ingenuity and novelty, but may also be perverse, finding herself at odds with the establishment and taking the law into her own hands (Mars opposite Pluto). Westwood has shown courage against the ‘taste dictatorship of the masses’ (her words). This is compatible with her involvement with Malcolm McLaren and the punk movement. Fashion as a threat to society in the form of Teddy Boys, Mods and Rockers, and the jeans/t-shirt look of James Dean and Marlon Brando are the foundations of Westwood’s work. She created acceptance through alternative fashion trends as these were the uniforms of society’s social rejects. Misfits, minority groups, the unemployed and disabled felt relevant when wearing her clothes. Her designs gave women a license to dress assertively and to own the tools of subjection, usually reserved for men, like whips, razor blades and chains. This had not been the case with previous music cults.

 

 

Westwood said of Malcolm McLaren, ‘I felt there were so many doors to open, and he had the key to all of them’. They became involved after meeting in 1965 through Westwood’s brother, Gordon. Together they sought new forms of expression (McLaren’s Aquarian Sun conjunct Westwood’s Aquarian Mars). The relationship had a strong Uranian signature. Ideas were important to them. McLaren’s Uranus trining her Midheaven signified mutual career goals that involved nonconformity and purpose. A student at Croydon Art School, McLaren had his finger on the pulse where contemporary culture was concerned and enjoyed the idea of using art as a way of creating chaos (Moon conjunct Neptune in Libra). Westwood held the technical ability to translate his ideas into clothing (Saturn in the sixth house). So began the evolving vision of Westwood and McLaren that was to change the cultural climate of Britain in the 1970s, the effects of which still prevail.

 

This extract is taken from Astrobabble (#14), available through Red Eye Records and Repressed Records in Sydney.

Remembering David Bowie

 

It’s been seven months since David Bowie’s death - 11 January 2016 - and the outpouring of feeling is ongoing. It’s difficult to pigeonhole Bowie as an artist and as an individual. His astrology reflects his multi-faceted and contradictory nature, where layers of personality and talent seemingly clash, causing internal frustration but materialising sometimes brilliantly, sometimes not. 

The element of Air dominates Bowie's chart. In the early stages of his career at least, this quality overshadowed his traditional Capricorn Sun. Bowie’s story reflects what some astrologers call ‘growing into our Sun signs’, the mythology for which late blooming Capricorn is noted for.

 

Outwardly, David Bowie embodied the qualities normally associated with the air sign Aquarius – scientific, futuristic, progressive, prophetic. With Aquarius rising and planet Uranus as chart ruler, Bowie possessed an alternative edge that some would say he was born with. Uranus’ glyph resembles a satellite designed to explore the far reaches of time and space, a theme often repeated in Bowie’s earlier work. His 1969 breakthrough single Space Oddity, released close to the moon landing, covers cosmonaut Major Tom’s existential space journey. Through classics such as Space Oddity, Ziggy Stardust, Life on Mars, Starman and Loving the Alien, we learn of the visions and possibilities beyond the earthly plane.

 

Bowie's chart ruler, Uranus in Gemini, in the fifth house of romance, sextile Pluto in the seventh house of relationships, alludes to his experimental and transformative sex life. He was magnetised by New York's gay scene, which was still underground in the early 1970s. Bowie became a camp icon in an era when homosexuals lived in fear of discovery. Critics such as the queer writer John Gill condemned him for using and betraying gay culture for his own commercial gain. Nevertheless, Bowie set a precedent that heralded in a new generation of androgynous stars who went on to become successful in the 1980s - Gary Numan, Boy George (Culture Club), Marilyn, Phil Oakey (Human League), George Michael (Wham!), Morrissey (The Smiths), Pete Burns (Dead or Alive) and Steve Strange (Visage) who appears in the Ashes to Ashes promotional video.

‘… I wanted to be the instigator of new ideas. I wanted to turn people on to new things and new perspectives … I decided to use the easiest medium, which was rock n roll, and then add bits and pieces … so that by the end of it I would be my own medium’

 

His twelfth house stellium (Sun, Mars, Mercury) indicates a rich inner world and psychic possibilities. The Sun and Mercury function as mediums for the expression of mythic or archetypal images in the collective unconscious through art or esoteric practise. Bowie had the capacity to bridge the conscious and unconscious, and could communicate to an audience what was operating in the murky depths of the psyche:

 

‘All I knew was that there was this otherness, this other world, an alternative reality, and one that I wanted to embrace’

 

The above is a extract from the next issue of Astrobabble (#13), copies of which I will be flogging at Manly Zine Fair in September. See you there.

Life According to Keith Richards

 

I began the year with the challenging goal of ploughing through Keith Richards’ autobiography Life - which is the size of a house brick - before my birthday in July. It was effortless. At over six hundred pages, this epic work captures the Sagittarian spirit of ‘the journey’ through the well-worn themes of rock n roll, illicit drug taking and intrepid travel. What elevates this story above the usual rock star dross is Keef’s unique voice and his profound insight. For the Centaur, the real sport of life is to make ‘the journey’ stimulating, varied and as expansive as possible. The goal is insignificant. This has been the undisputed path for Keith Richards since the mid-1950s, when he discovered rock n roll, leading to the formation of the Rolling Stones with Mick Jagger in 1962. What followed was a smorgasbord of life experiences spanning decades that would leave more sober astrological signs breathless.

You could argue that it’s difficult to dislike Keef the man, even if you’re not a fan of the Rolling Stones. While Mick Jagger has the air of a manipulative prima donna, by contrast, Keith Richards appears accessible and genial (Sun in Sagittarius/Moon and Jupiter on Midheaven/Moon sextile Venus). A stellium of planets in the tenth house (Chiron, Moon and Jupiter) is indicative of popularity and success on a large scale. Shrugging off the clichéd junkie image is a challenge (Scorpio rising/Pluto as chart ruler semi-squaring Saturn in opposition to the Sun/Chiron square Sun), however, fans will forgive him for his shortcomings, acknowledging that he is the ultimate rock star icon (Uranus square Moon on Midheaven/chart ruler Pluto conjunct node in Leo).

A strict Virgo Moon on the Midheaven reflects the need to perfect his craft (blues guitar) with discipline. The Virgo Moon individual finds it difficult to express feelings and can be out of touch with their emotional side altogether if the Moon isn’t supported by meaningful factors in the birth chart. One of the more surprising revelations in Life is his inherent shyness with women. He claims that when it comes to approaching the opposite sex, he holds back (Moon in Virgo square Mars in Gemini) and waits for the object of his desire to make the first move. An eighth house Saturn in opposition to his Sun indicates his insecurity in intimate situations and the fear of being swamped by feelings that his Virgo Moon works hard at controlling. As a young single guy, Keef struggled with pick-up lines and had a preoccupation with finding the right line or one that hadn’t been used before.

Nevertheless, at seventy-one, he shows no signs of slowing down. Keith Richards is a testament to the Sagittarian adage that if you create your own luck, the road can go on forever. Read more in the new issue of Astrobabble (#12).

It's Time: The Passing of Gough Whitlam

 

‘Dying will happen sometime. As you know, I plan for the ages, not just for this life’ – Gough Whitlam, 11 July 1916 to 21 October 2014

The passing of Edward Gough Whitlam, on 21 October 2014 at the age of ninety-eight, has divided the nation into Gough enthusiasts and detractors while generating a tumult of emotions from both camps - an almost spooky re-enactment of the 1975 Dismissal. Whatever the triumphs or shortfalls of his government were, it’s difficult to dispute Whitlam’s role in our country’s development. 

In its three short years (1972 to 1975), the Labor government under Whitlam activated the policies that engineered social change, dragging Australia into the modern era. Those who remember a pre-Whitlam Australia can recall a dreary and insular period of social conservatism engineered by the Menzies government in the 1950s. Australia bypassed the 1960s altogether. While hippies experienced free love and wore flowers in their hair in San Francisco and other parts of the world, Australia was comfortably slumbering in a social and cultural coma.

To give a clearer picture, 1960s Australia went something like this:

• Left wing political movements were under routine surveillance
• James Joyce’s novel Ulysses and Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov were banned
• Australian film and music industries didn't exist as such
• Creatives such as Germaine Greer, Clive James, Barry Humphries, Brett Whitley, Olivia Newtown John, the Bee Gees, and the Easybeats left the country to gain recognition elsewhere
• Contraceptive pill was only available to married women
• Abortion was illegal
• Single mothers, homosexuals and lesbians were ostracised from mainstream society
• Women and children abused in toxic nuclear families were invisible and lived lives of quiet desperation
• Women in general were treated as second class citizens and were denied the social and financial opportunities gifted to men
• Indigenous and new Australians (Italians, Greeks, Lebanese) were low on the social and political rung (Aboriginal land rights were not recognised and indigenous people did not have the vote)

Need I go on?

By the early 1970s, social change was inevitable. The Labor party's 1972 campaign’s catchphrase It’s Time adds up to 32/5, which signals a shift in consciousness. Whitlam was extolled as an Agent of Change (Uranus bi-quintile the Ascendant/Uranus quintile Jupiter on the Midheaven/Moon semi-square Pluto). A psychically loaded birthdate – 11 July – expresses Messiah-like qualities. Such was his persona that he was applauded for introducing reforms that were already in place, such as no-fault divorce and the removal of troops from Vietnam. 

A mythological figure with a penchant for cherishing ideals that weren’t always practical, Whitlam reached for a higher ground (first house Neptune square Jupiter on the Midheaven). An influential 26/8 life path denotes a visionary leader of Roman God proportions with the ability to direct the Australian Labor Party out of the wilderness of twenty-three years of conservative rule.

A Stellium of planets in Cancer (Sun, Mercury, Venus, Saturn, and Pluto) indicates a strong humanitarian streak. Whitlam was genuinely interested in and concerned about people. He cared deeply and intensely about his country, and had the ability to regenerate it (Scorpio Moon as chart ruler in the fourth house). A fourth house Scorpio Moon can dramatically end certain life phases, as illustrated by the dismissal of Whitlam’s government on 11 November 1975 (transiting Sun eclipsed his natal Moon). Altruism is expressed via the Jupiter conjunct Midheaven quintile Uranus aspect:

‘In spite of repeated disappointments, he never lost that faith in humanity. This, above all, made him such an attractive human being’ – Mungo MacCallum, political journalist

A highly physical Taurus in Jupiter sits on the Midheaven. Liberal frontbencher Malcolm Turnbull states that what people remember most about Whitlam is ‘a bigness, a generosity, an enormous optimism’. Indeed, at 194 centremetres, he was an inescapable human tower of power and fortitude. Smugness is often associated with this aspect. Modesty was never Gough Whitlam’s strong point:

‘He was someone who, whether in a small room … or at a public event, everyone else seemed to fade to black and white, while this giant of a man – physically, intellectually – appeared in full colour and dominated wherever he was’ – Anthony Albanese, Labor politician.

To list and elaborate on the changes brought about by the Whitlam government would require a sizeable amount of blog space. But I do want to mention Whitlam’s commitment to culture (Stellium in Cancer/Venus conjunct Pluto/Venus sextile Jupiter-Midheaven) because it’s one of those formative things that shaped me as a young person, especially the birth of one of his more exciting ventures, that of a youth radio station in 1975 - Double J (now Triple J). 

Idealistic young Australians in the late 1970s and 1980s enjoyed the opportunity to form bands and develop their craft free from exorbitant financial constraints. Punk rock, with its anti-establishment philosophy, gained momentum in the mid-1970s as both a musical genre and a lifestyle choice. This newly found DIY culture influenced kids from the suburbs to create some of Australia’s most innovative and experimental music. Double J was instrumental in giving this underground scene a voice. In retrospect, it’s difficult to believe that the following bands – some of them considered unlistenable – were given air time:

 

~ Severed Heads ~ Tactics ~ Boys Next Door ~ The Birthday Party ~ Radio Birdman ~ The Scientists ~ The Saints ~ SPK ~ The Riptides ~ Machinations ~ Laughing Clowns ~ The Triffids ~ Go Betweens ~ David Virgin ~ Primitive Calculators ~ The Stems ~ Died Pretty ~ Sekret Sekret ~ Sardine ~ Do Re Mi ~ X ~ Eastern Dark ~ Wet Taxis ~ Celibate Rifles ~ The Sunnyboys ~ Cosmic Pyschos ~ The Hard-Ons ~ The Plunderers ~ Pel Mel ~ Mark of Cain ~ La Femme ~ The Riptides ~ Makers of the Dead Travel Fast ~ The Numbers ~ Toys Went Berserk ~ The Moodists ~ Box of Fish ~ Scared Cowboys ~ XL Capris ~ TISM ~ Whirlywirld ~ The Whitlams (of course) …

Love or hate him, it’s almost impossible to feel indifferent about Gough Whitlam. His government certainly had its flaws but it always pushed the boundaries of stifling conservatism. He envisioned Australia as a progressive, exciting and benevolent society where equality of opportunity belonged to everyone.

Vale, Gough.

The Return of Kate Bush

 

‘Kate Bush is that old-fashioned thing: an artist’ – Mark Radcliffe, BBC broadcaster

Kate Bush’s return to the stage with her Before the Dawn concerts in London feels like the second coming. Not surprising, considering that her first and last performance was in 1979. Apart from brief spikes in commercial success over three decades, Kate has avoided the entertainment industry machine. 

She is an anathema in the music business because a) she is serious about her craft, b) she loathes celebrity culture, and c) she plays by her rules. You don’t get a lot of a), b) or c) in these market-driven times.

I remember seeing Kate’s celebrated video for Wuthering Heights on the Saturday morning music show Sounds, in 1979. I was mesmerised by its entirety - her impressive vocal range, her beauty, her gypsy-inspired outfit, those witchy dance moves, Dave Gilmour’s whiny guitar riff … 

Since that encounter, she remained in my consciousness despite her obvious media absence. Kate's comeback is timely, thanks to the current Jupiter transit which touched her natal Leo Sun-Uranus conjunction in mid-August, prior to her concert series. 

Jupiter entered Leo on 16 July 2014 for a thirteen-month residency. The giant planet rules personal experiences, optimism, joy and abundance. In Leo, we are given opportunities to blossom through creative self-expression. Kate said that her decision to return to live performance was based on a ‘real desire to have contact with the audience that still like my work’. Radio2 broadcaster Michael Ball attended the final concert in early October. He described it as ‘sublime towering artistry’.

Jupiter in Leo tends to focus on image. The subject of Kate’s physical beauty as a young woman is unavoidable (natal Jupiter in Libra conjunct her North Node). Fortunately, her Aquarius Moon accentuates originality (and possibly eccentricity) and counterbalances any egocentricity her Leo Sun might hold. Her Sun, Uranus and Moon combine with Mars in Taurus and Neptune in Scorpio to form a Grand Cross in Fixed signs. The Sun-Uranus link is indicative of ingenuity. Uranus in Leo on the point of a T-square makes Kate a trailblazer with a tendency for obstinacy - she split from her first record company, EMI, because she wanted more control. She needs to work toward her Libra Jupiter-North Node conjunction and learn to compromise a little. Mental intensity comes courtesy of a Virgo Mercury-Pluto conjunction. Taboo subjects are explored with intelligence and weaved through ephemeral vocal and instrumental arrangements that draw on folklore, esotericism and sensuality (Mars-Neptune opposition). Her 1982 song The Dreaming is a good example.

Due to an overwhelming response to her long-awaited comeback, she has been nominated for two Q Awards - Best Act in the World Today and Best Live Act. She became the first female artist to have eight albums in the UK charts at the same time. Her songs have been covered by a diverse range of musicians, from Futureheads and Placebo to Coldplay and Tina Arena.

Likeable Bon Scott

Astrobabble (#10), has hit the streets of Sydney and Melbourne. It’s available at Red Eye Records and The Sticky Institute respectively. I have also placed a few free copies at Beyond The Ordinary in Balmain, Phoenix Rising Bookshop in Glebe, and The Buddha Bar in Newtown.

This issue completes the cycle of the twelve astrological signs in zine format; a project I started five years ago with the intention of snaring a zine maker with whom I was fixated. Ironically, but not surprisingly, it had the opposite effect. Still, what I gained from creating Astrobabble more than made up for my disappointment in love. Or so I keep telling myself.

Anyway, as you can see from the image above, this issue delves into the life of renowned AC/DC front man, Bon Scott, with whom I share the Sun sign, Cancer. Bon was a thoroughly enjoyable subject to research. He is mythologised in a way that contradicts his sign but as is usually the case with high profile people, he had a vulnerable side that was often overlooked for his more appealing rock ‘n’ roll persona. There's clear evidence that he was polite, sensitive and considerate in nature. In many ways, Bon Scott was a textbook Cancerian, a pipe 'n' slippers man who loved his family and close friends and abhorred the pretensions of the music industry.

The most surprising discovery, however, was his so called ‘toilet poetry’ that masked a talent for writing (Mercury sextile Jupiter). For years, I failed to recognise Bon’s words as anything other than mediocre. I ignored lyrics to Long Way to The Top, Jailbreak, Ride On and Highway to Hell simply because the point of AC/DC is to mindlessly rock out to the music. Thanks to a Mercury conjunct Pluto aspect, Bon took lyric writing seriously, with a wit and deviousness sorely missing in song writing today.

A prolific letter writer and sender of postcards, his correspondence reveals an intuitive feel for language, in which anecdotes are told with enthusiasm and humour. Rarely did he forget to mail Christmas and birthday cards while on the road. Constantly carrying a notebook and pen, he'd scribble ideas for songs as they came to him, regardless of where he was, what he was doing or who he was with.