Maurice Frawley died last month after a short battle with cancer, at Rochester Hospital in country Victoria. He came from an Elmore (central Victoria) farming family to Melbourne in the late 1970s to pursue a musical career in the big smoke.

Maurice was a typical Aussie bloke, a terrific songwriter and a charismatic performer. People have trouble describing 'charisma', but in Maurie's case humility counted as much as raw talent and great songs.
The words 'full of himself' never applied once in the 25 years that I knew him, but many of his songs were so honest, poignant and uplifting, that here was a bloke that should have been, at some stage 'full of himself'.

After his stint in 'The Japanese Comix' (1979-80), he co-wrote classic pop songs, including "Look So Fine, Feel So Low", during his time as a guitarist with Paul Kelly and the Dots (1980-84). 'The Olympic Sideburns' (1983-86), producing an EP for 'The Romeos' (1989) and 'Maurice Frawley's Big City Burnout' (1990) followed, before Maurice penned a string of top shelf cds which he performed with his band "The Working Class Ringos" (1993-2006). From 2006 he wrote, recorded and performed with 'Maurice Frawley and The Yard Hands'.

In the Australian rock music scene, there aren't many fully fledged, over 50, gypsy musicians, who live for their music, and live hard, yet are loved by all they meet. Maurice was one. Yarn with him, and the topic would very quickly be 'music' and his face would light up with the sheer joy of being a part of that world. He genuinely encouraged every muso he came in contact with. Young or old. A circle was completed last year when Maurice taught guitar at Rochester High School. He was one of the old style Aussie rockers who loved nothing more than jamming with his many mates. This habit of jamming, which was like eating or breathing to Maurice and his ilk, has all but died out in today's music world of samples, computers and keyboards.

I ran into him at the end of one of his country tours, and asked him how he was going. His black jeans had obviously been on him for a few weeks (par for the course for gypsy musicians) and he looked a little dishevelled, but that glint was in his eye as he smiled: "I'm good, I've just got a little bit of tourbum." Like nearly every line he came out with, it sounded like the opening to yet another Frawley gem of a song.

Maurice wrote songs about his family, friends, lovers, farmers and Australian places in an Australian voice. Listen to most acts at Tamworth, and you'd swear you were in the U.S.A. Not so with Maurice. Australia needs more Maurice Frawleys to write songs about us and what we do, in an Australian voice that we can relate to. The trouble is, there could only be one Maurice Frawley and now we're already poorer for his absence. But that's where his songs come in. Maurice was fortunate enough to be a songwriter talented enough to ensure that his voice will be heard forever.

Maurice is survived by siblings Brendan, Mary and Leo, and his son, Martin.

Bill Miller, on behalf of every muso in Australia.