And that's exclusive to The Guide, he adds. Believe it.

Trevorrow has dressed, written for and professionally portrayed Bob Downe since 1984, when-chrysalis-like - Bob found a voice, stopped miming oldies with the Globos and created a complete comic character.

Like Edna Everage, Bob Downe has the potential to add new cliches to a culture by parodying it in grotesque detail.

Trevorrow, though, is not taking off all those middle-Australian matrons but one of their idols, the TV chat show host: he's Don, Ray, Bert, Gra Gra, even Dean Martin and Daryl. Which almost guarantees popularity, especially since not everyone thinks matrons are funny.

Bob lives in an L-shaped caravan at Murwillumbah with his mother, Ida. It's L-shaped so they don't have to see each other.

Trevorrow, 30, who lives in a flat at Rushcutters Bay, says: "I'm not interested so much in doing solo character work, like Barry Humphries and Mandy Salomon. I like working with other performers and creating other characters I can interact with as Bob.

"That's what excites me. Stand-up is just the loneliest, loneliest, loneliest life on earth."

After playing six shows a week at Melbourne's Last Laugh for 30 of the past 50 weeks, it's clear there's an audience for Downe that TV producers are now recognising.

Don Lane scooped a delirious Downe appearance on Blah Blah Blah and other shows last year, and Bob is currently gracing The Bert Newton Show a couple of times a month.

Pick A Hit, his most recent Last Laugh show, also included three other comics and two dancers but couldn't come to Sydney. "Cabaret in Sydney is very, very problematic," Trevorrow says. The basic reason is that Sydney entrepeneurs are not backing long seasons, although Bob will soon be presenting a disco show on weekends at Kinsela's.

"The Last Laugh is almost unique in the world as a cabaret. There's no coincidence that it's in Melbourne."

Ask Bob about comparisons between Sydney and Melbourne and "he likens it to the long-standing rivalry between Murwillumbah and Tweed Heads: No-one from outside could really tell the difference," Mark reports.

Last Monday night, at the Harold Park Hotel, Bob tried out his new safari suit ("the John Friederich line, for the man on the run") while interpreting"Route 66". The suit, Mark says, was a surprise gift to Bob from a Melbourne fan. "I can only encourage that sort of thing."

The character "is a perfect sort of outlet for all the things I've been obsessed about since I was a child", he says. Young Mark was "unfocused and bright", a suburban Melbourne child who made his own bedroom newspapers and radio programs.

"Bob represents everything I'm interested in as a writer and a performer. He really does specialise in cabaret through the ages.

"There's so much to explore with him, especially on TV. He seems to work very well on comedy shows and variety shows. Each TV thing has been quite subversive."

"There's an incredible vibe happening when Bob does TV, because everyone finds it funny - even the crew ... (who) appreciate that he's just like Shirley Bassey: he's quite a good singer, but it's hilarious what he does with his voice."

Watch out for Bob Downe; he's ahead of his hour. Mark says: "We did a version of (Prince's) Kiss on Pick A Hit, and Tom Jones copied that. We couldn't believe it."

Bob Downe sings Johnny Ray's "Cry" on The Bert Newton Show, at noon, Tuesday, on Seven.
Charles Maddison

"Des O'Connor on speed", that's how Bob Downe, the alter ego of Australian Mark Travaro has been described. Well, what would you call a man with a plastic smile, wearing a grey bouffont wig and beige crimpelene suit, who opens his show with a version of I Will Survive? Bob Downe seems set to become the surprise cult hit of this year's Fringe comedy circuit, after packing them in at the Fringe Club and Gilded Balloon's Late and Live. Six months ago Bob Downe did not exist, but already he has been offered his own Australian TV variety show. Naturally he accepted.

His act is essentially a parody of the kind of variety show that is commonly found on British and Australian TV. Variety is a big word in Bob Downe's vocabulary. "Australian television has a long tradition of very mediocre American imitations, but I still love variety. I love acts like Gary Glitter and Shirley Bassey. I think that any good satire is born of equal fondness and hatred."

Bob Downe is obviously an avid watcher of pulp TV, but his other love is music. In a different incarnation he has notched up two Australian top ten hits. So what is so special about music, Bob?

"Music seems to communicate so much better than a lot of verbal comedy. Nobody here seems to combine music and comedy, whereas in Australia they love music."

Despite playing songs like Suspicion for laughs, Bob Downe has a great voice. "The songs work on their own as well as being funny. I think that is really important for what I do. If I couldn't actually sing the songs, it would pall very quickly." So why is the act so popular?

"It's the post-modern thing of people loving kitsch and I parody the sort of show that takes themselves incredibly seriously and have no idea of how absurd they really are. People like Max Bygraves and Bruce Forsyth do some of the funniest shows around, though unintentionally."

Do you think there will come a point when everyone will be so busy parodying each other that there is nothing left?

"There will always be enough entertainers that take themselves so seriously that they are crying out to be parodied. If there is any serious intent in what I do, it is to make people see television differently."

Bob sees comedy and cabaret taking the place formerly held by pop music in young people's lives. However, I wondered if the character's TV success will mean that older people are watching too, and perhaps taking the act straight. Will the mums get the joke?

"Of course they will. If they don't, it's because they lack irony."

And what about the real variety hosts, how do they take to you?

"They are really flummoxed by it, because I've done quite a lot of variety shows of the sort I'm actually parodying. They sort of know something is up, but figure that they better go along with it or people will just laugh at them more."

Bob Downe's show is hilarious, and hopefully he will have some more dates scheduled by the time you read this. Catch him if you can, and if you are really lucky he might put on his purple velvet suit for the encore.
Edward Gibb

So how does a registered nurse end up playing Mrs Squeamish in the Sydney Theatre Company's production of the "funny, farcical and dirty", The Country Wife?

"I'm being a good girl like my mother told me to be," said Jane. "I wanted to go to NIDA when I left school but my mother, being the sensible woman she is, said 'get a real job first' and I've been a nurse for eight years now.

"With the nursing shortage as it is, it's a great job to get back into when I need it, and I often do.

"The acting was an accident. I was basically just an extrovert who enjoyed playing dress-ups at home. I was visiting family in Melbourne and was playacting yet again, when I was asked by my brother-in-law, Mark Trevorrow, to do a little spot in a show called Gloria and the Go-Gos.

"I thought I would give anything a go once, so I rehearsed a Tammy Wynette number, Gloria, became The Globos - and here I am now."

Jane's move into the straighter side of the theatre came as something of a surprise to her. "I did an audition for director Neil Armfield a couple of years ago - I didn't think for a moment I would get the part, which I didn't, but Neil said he would keep me in mind for other things. I assumed, like most things, promises, promises ... But one day I got a call and he asked me if I'd be interested in The Country Wife. It was lovely because I didn't have to audition or any of the other hard things."

Moving from cabaret to a scripted, directed play is quite a challenge for Jane. "It's an enormous change. The Globos were certainly fun, but it's bloody hard work having to virtually produce ourselves, get our own costumes, those sorts of things. Now it is all of that done for you and you can concentrate on your performance rather than your accoutrements."

After her stint on the boards at the Opera House, it's back to the halls of healing for Jane. "Basically I'm very lazy, I've never had to search for work and I don't have an agent," she said.

"I'll try and get one through this but if I don't, I'm not going to lie awake at night punishing myself for not having full-time acting. I make the best of what I'm doing at the moment. If I'm acting I love it; if I'm nursing I like it."
Kate Deamer

There is no point in getting cerebral about this, but the facts are, that after an absence of three years (which is a long time in the nostalgia business) and a witty introduction by Cathy Armstrong posing as Carol Instoor, the lady from the information booth at David Jones, the group that relegated nostalgia to an art form, is back dancing and miming the hits of the 1960s.

The original members of The Globos, Mark Trevorrow and Wendy de Waal (who conceived the group) and Jane Markey, have been joined by Tracey Callander, Tim Conigrave and Nell Schofield.

Against a painted back-drop that could be a semi-realist impression of New York's Central Park, partly obscured by a large copy of the test pattern for black and white television, The Globos start with a suitably psychedelic rendition of the double hit single from Hair - Aquarius/Let The Sun Shine In.

After that Mark Trevorrow gives Nell Schofield some post-nuptial dictation in Take A Letter Maria; Jane Markey whips up an S and M version of Nancy Sinatra's Lightning's Girl; Tim Conigrave and Tracey Callander team up with Trevorrow to bash out Walk Right In; Wendy de Waal tries to sound like A Natural Woman and Trevorrow mouths the Georgie Fame number, Yeh! Yeh!

Next comes Schofield in a simpering duet with Conigrave posing as a South American peasant appreciating the allure of The Girl From Ipanema. That's the cue for Dusty Springfield's greatest song, You Don't Have To Say You Love Me interpreted by de Waal and the Aretha Franklin soul classic Respect, which is given the full treatment by Markey, Schofield and de Waal.

To get cerebral in spite of myself: Why go ape over a bunch of dress-ups hopping and bopping to a stack of old records? Partly it's the songs themselves. Partly it's the energy and finesse. For instance, it's hard to imagine anyone getting worked up (as they used to) over Tom Jones singing It's Not Unusual, but the way Mark Trevorrow gives the song away instead of selling it in the Jones style makes you think twice.

Added to that is a scarcely believable air of authenticity which emanates from the costumes and the choreography. Not only does everyone get the steps right, they manage to do them in unison. The show is fast paced with a well-modulated structure and time flies when you're having fun.

And everyone does, including the cast who always have their tongues firmly in their cheeks, as the hilarious send-ups of ads reveal: Rothmans (who used to sponsor car races before Fosters); Pix, the magazine whose pages are positively bursting with sensations; and Johnson & Johnson who make those unmentionable somethings for "heavy" days.
Bob Evans

Remeber "Six O'Clock Rock!"... "Bandstand"... "Go!!"... "Kommotion"... "Hallabaloo" and "Shindig" And those go-go girls, the screaming kids, the trendy bouffants and bangs, with hosts in slim-line suits.

That's the essence of the GLOBOS, created by Melbourne's Wendy de Waal, a former hairdresser, and her journalist partner Mark Trevorrow.

Starting as a party act to amuse friends, the GLOBOS' recreated TV show now plays to roars of approval from packed nightclubs and theatre around Australia.

The GLOBOS' fast-paced act recreates the style, originality and excitement of the 60's youth culture explosion. It is inspired by those naive days when "wild" meant P J Proby splitting his trousers on stage and teenagers smuggling themselves into a pop star's hotel.

The GLOBOS' "All live, All mimed, Hi-Fi Hit Parade Show" is both a send-up of those times and a tribute to this music, which meant so much to the youngsters who consumed it in unprecedented volumes.

Not that things haven't been just as exciting since, and the GLOBOS add plenty of contemporary touches to their material.

Mark and Wendy's first single, a re-make of the '50s Italian rock classic "Tintarella" reached the National Top 20 charts in September and brought the GLOBOS stage excitement to viewers of shows like Countdown, Don Lane and Mike Walsh.

Now the GLOBOS are starting 1983 with a new Mushroom/White Label single. This time a lurch into '60s psychedelia kitsch with a re-make of Sonny and Cher's "The Beat Goes On". A comedy feature film and a stage musical with the Sydney Theatre Company are also in the pipeline.

For tonight's show, the GLOBOS' Wendy de Waal and Mark Trevorrow are joined by Jane Marke, David Pledger, Kim Trengove and Greta Mendoza. And as you will see, there's more to it all than just nostalgia!

Melbourne rock fans have survived the most arresting weekend of the year. Over two nights, some 10,000 fans were "apprehended" for three hours of blissful imprisonment.

A forceful group of chaps, calling themselves the Police, are in Australia proving why they're one of the world's top three bands. Who cares if the trio's outdoor concert in Sydney drew a crowd of 25,000? Melbourne was privileged with two Festival Hall shows. Both were total sellouts and both more than rivalled the Police's Harbor City reception, in terms of enthusiasm as well as decibels. The old stadium hasn't seen nights like it for quite a while.

The wooden floor pulsated, the ushers rushed around frantically all night and the hall's chairs faced their severest test as the fans scrambled for a better view. Loudspeaker pleas of "get back to your seat!" were ignored and from the moment the house lights blinked off it was hard to tell just who was performing for whom.

Police won the contest... but if they hadn't had the stagelights, a platform and a massive sound system on their side, it might have been a draw. The crowd knew every word, every chant and most of the movements too.

On stage, Stewart Copeland drummed up a storm and Andy Summers' guitar re-created perfectly that unmistakable Police studio sound. But there's little doubt about the target of most of the screaming adulation. Lead singer Gordon "Sting" Sumner, had merely to smile to set off a chain-reaction of screaming adulation. He can sing, too and has a fine ability for bass and a soaring, powerful voice. So Lonely, Roxanne, and Message In A Bottle were highlights of a set remarkable for its fullness of sound from only three instruments.

Melbourne's own Models are supporting the national tour - and their fine performance was given an enthusiastic home-town reception.
Mark Trevorrow

Certainly, "Icehouse" is a milestone. For once, the product more than lives up to the hype that so often precedes - and then destroys - the long-term success of local great white hopes. The packaging, too, with its luxurious gatefold cover, featuring superbly understated graphics, further enhances the total creative unity of "Icehouse".

On vinyl - where it all stands or falls - producer Cameron Allan, together with Iva Davies, has imparted an amazing, suspended quality all the way through. Davies' vocals add to the listening pleasure of this unusually fine first album... like the music and the instrumentation, he just never lets up. "Icehouse" opens with the haunting title track, with its deliberately menacing and slow synthesisers, leading straight into the pure techno-pop of "We Can Get Together". The next track is just as unexpectedly different... "Fatman", a compulsive straight rocker. "Sister", "Walls", and side two's "Skin" are popular numbers from Flowers' live set, and on record they lose none of their electricity. An interesting reworking of "Can't Help Myself", opens side two with a much busier and fuller sound than the original production.

It's not until "Sons" that sax is introduced, and that alone helps Geoff Oakes's solo to highlight "Icehouse"... the tinkling sound of a piano breaks through for the first time, too, on this, the closest thing to a ballad on the LP. Just when you think there couldn't be more good stuff, the three final tracks jump out to ambush the listener. "Boulevarde" has all the magic of the two singles taken from the album - will it be the Flowers' third chart hit?- as does "Not My Kind", the closing song. In between is "Nothing to Do", with its strong acoustic folksy feel that is both a refreshing change and a delight in itself.

The approach of Flowers to everything that bears their name - and now "Icehouse" - seems to sum up entirely the final arrival, after so many false starts, of Australian rock music as a major world force.
Mark Trevorrow