Entertainer Kamahl, now 91, reflects on life, career spanning 70 years – By Rachael Lucas

“I always tried to find songs that explained what we feel for each other.

An international student

Born in Kuala Lumpur, in the British Colony of Malaya (Malaysia) to Sri Lankan parents in 1934, Kandiah Kamalesvaran, Kamahl recalls experiencing the duality of animosity and kindness as a young boy during the brutality of the Japanese invasion.

Kamahl remembers fearing a brutal death when he was approached by a Japanese officer while walking home from grazing his cow.

“He put his hand to his hip. I thought he was going to take the sword out and take my head off. Instead, I saw something flash; it was a silver paper. It was chocolate, and he gave it to me. I took it and ran,” he says.

Growing up in the strict household of his wealthy uncle, Kamahl was sent to Australia as a shy 19-year-old to attend school at King’s College in Adelaide in 1953.

Two years later, he was selected to play cricket for the Kensington Club, bowling a hat trick in the first three balls of the season, with a 7 for 55.

It was an effort witnessed by Don Bradman, who congratulated Kamahl as he walked off the field.

The pair would meet again 33 years later, sustaining a poignant friendship through a correspondence of 60 personal letters.

Kamahl’s sporting prowess was further demonstrated as a hockey player, playing hockey for Australia against New Zealand.

But in 1950s Adelaide, prospects for foreign students were not great.

Kamahl recalls that he would often shake hands with people, then notice them wipe their hands, thinking that he had dirtied their hands.

On discovering the music of Nat King Cole and the message of his song Nature Boy, Kamahl became inspired to reach out and communicate with people through the power of singing and storytelling.

“Miraculously, I think that the singing may have opened doors for me that wouldn’t have opened otherwise,” he says of the feeling of confidence and acceptance that came with the applause when performing.

Quest for acceptance

Dropping out of his architecture course and facing deportation several times on his tenuous student visa, Kamahl studied music, performing at talent quests, parties and nightclubs.

But a chance meeting with Adelaide identity Rupert Murdoch in 1958 would change his life.

Murdoch arranged for Kamahl to sing on Adelaide television as part of the very first live telecast in 1959, and upon moving to Sydney, he invited Kamahl to perform a six-week residency at his ritzy Hotel Australia in 1962.

Staying on in Sydney to build his career, Kamahl lived with the Murdoch family at their Darling Point home for the next two years.

He released his first album in 1967.

Cultivating an audience through the club circuit, TV appearances and charity events, Kamahl had his first hit single with The Sounds of Goodbye in 1969.

Often snubbed by radio, Kamahl was clever in devising alternative strategic pathways, taking much of his own marketing and management into his own hands.

In 1970, unable to get radio play, he famously approached an advertising executive at British Petroleum to distribute his Christmas album Peace on Earth in its service stations across Australia.

With profits donated to charity from the 120,000-plus units sold, the distribution coup was a victory for Kamahl, a success that helped land him his own television series with ABC TV in 1971–1972.

“I still can’t believe that happened — seven half-hour programs in 1971 and again in 1972 with international artists and the ABC orchestra. It was a pipe dream, and that laid the groundwork for my career,” he says.

A tall poppy underdog

Kamahl performed more than 30 concerts at the Sydney Opera House during his career.

Always dapper and well-dressed, he believed that people “listened with their eyes”, so he wore a gold kaftan for his first performance.

Recording around 350 songs and spoken word recordings, releasing approximately 35 albums in different countries, and selling more than 20 million albums, Kamahl’s international profile saw him play at the London Palladium and Carnegie Hall in New York twice.

He performed for the Queen three times, recited spoken word on US television telethons, hung out with celebrities such as Sammy Davis Jr, dined with presidents, and even dabbled in movie acting, most famously alongside Mick Jagger in the 1970 Australian film Ned Kelly.

One of his proudest moments was topping the New Zealand charts on two occasions with his self-titled album.

The era also yielded his famous catchphrase “Why are people so unkind?”, a line he said was bastardised by the media from his 1978 song What would I do without my music.

“What he did for me I could never thank him enough, and there were many others.

“But at the same time, I suffered humiliation in the world of entertainment.”

He points to the time he played an Aboriginal prisoner in the Australian film Journey out of Darkness in 1967, being forced to eat a sandwich under a tree while others in the cast and crew dined inside the homestead.

Then there was the endless mockery he faced on Australian television, most prolifically as a regular guest on long-running variety show Hey Hey It’s Saturday.

Although he largely took being the butt of the show’s jokes in his stride, he was particularly angered and humiliated by being hit in the face with a white powder puff on the show, the week before his second concert at Carnegie Hall in New York.

“It was a form of racism and that tall poppy thing. They couldn’t believe I was successful,” he says.

Associating much of the show’s casual racism with Australia’s cultural history of larrikin banter, he also understands that being regularly ridiculed was a key success factor in making him a household name.

“While television tried to destroy me, television made me,” he says.

“It’s been luck really, more than anything. At the same time, there have also been experiences of my life I wouldn’t wish upon anybody else, but put it all together, I wouldn’t want to change anything.

“Love and be loved in return, that’s my philosophy in life. Make love your religion. Love life and love your fellow man. That’s all you can do.”