A listener production.
When the phone stopped ringing,
it absolutely shook me to the core
because I didn't realise how addicted I'd become to fame.
And I felt ashamed, I felt so ashamed
that something as so hollow and superficial
as C-grade celebrity status had got its claws into me.
And when that was threatened
it really rocked my confidence like you wouldn't believe.
I was in my 50s and just feeling invisible.
Hi, I'm Jess Rowe, and this is the Jess Rowe Big Talk Show,
a podcast that skips the small talk and goes big and deep.
From love to loss and everything in between,
I want to show you a different side of people
who seem to have it all together
in these raw and honest conversations
about the things that matter.
Ian Dixon, better known as Dicko,
is best known for his role
as the tough love judge on Australian Idol.
Over three million people tuned in
to its first grand final show at the Sydney Opera House.
And Idol produced some of our biggest stars,
including Casey Donovan, Jess Malboy, Guy Sebastian,
Shannon Noll, and Courtney Act.
But Dicko is far more complex and compelling
than the person we tuned into each week.
He is a friend of mine,
and we've had many frank conversations over the years.
We've been on the telly together,
as well as starring in a pantomime
where we had to sing and dance,
and yes, he was far better at it than me.
Now, just to let you know,
we do cover some heavy topics in our conversation,
including drugs and sexual abuse,
something which Dicko opens up about in this conversation.
Oh, Dicko, gee, it's good to see you,
to clap my eyes on you.
It is wonderful to be seen by you as well.
You're still as gorgeous.
Oh, you're still as lovely, the silver fox.
But you are a silver fox, and you're very charming.
I've always found with you,
whenever I've caught up with you,
had a good chat with you,
there's this lovely kind of charm and ease
with the way you communicate with people.
I want people to feel comfortable.
It's odd because most people in Australia will know me
as the straight-talking bastard judge on Australian Idol,
the original and the best series, of course.
I guess when I first started on Australian television
in that hard-judging role,
the Australian Simon Cowell, if you like,
there were articles about me in the paper
with one headline, I remember,
is this the most hated man in Australia?
And I thought, ooh, I'm not sure.
That's what I signed up for.
I'm a lover, not a fighter.
But yeah, I think people are surprised
that I don't try and tear people down 24-7.
Yeah, I do enjoy people.
I do enjoy meeting people.
Myself and my wife have always wanted to chat to anyone.
It doesn't matter who you are, where you are.
Everyone's got a story.
So yeah, thank you.
And that's the thing, everyone does have a story.
You have a fascinating story.
Let's just pick up on that Australian Idol time
where you were sort of known, as you say,
as the blunt and brutal judge.
Did you feel a pressure that that was the role
that you had to fulfil and keep being?
Yes, there was a lot of pressure to deliver that.
It's a hard one to reconcile, Jess,
because I have to realise that, you know,
I said some pretty awful things to people's faces.
And I actually meant every word of it,
which is an awful thing to admit.
But the show did rely on a certain amount
of ritual humiliation, even though the,
I'm sure the producers would say, no, no, no.
Thousands of people are queued up to audition.
There were a set of auditions before they came to,
before the judges.
And those auditions were designed to take the middle out.
So the only contestants who made it to the camera
and the judges were the really, really good
and the really, really bad.
Now, why would you put really, really bad singers
in front of judges if you're not gonna make fun of them?
That was baked into the format of the Australian Idol show.
And I willingly put the black cap on
and was the grim reaper, you know?
And I made myself a promise that I would say
exactly what I would say about these artists,
these performers, if I was in the confines
of a record company boardroom.
Where the conversation can get a little bit gnarly
and cruel and mean-spirited, if I'm honest.
And yeah, I don't think it was the fact,
a lot of the time it wasn't what I was saying.
It was the fact that for the first time on television,
someone was saying this to someone else's face.
And that's quite uncomfortable.
You can't sing, mate.
It's a really, really awful voice.
You haven't got the best voice, honestly.
No one's gonna wanna listen to you, okay?
You don't sing very well.
In a parallel universe, I'm sure you would stand a chance
but that was just way too wacky for words.
That voice should come with a government warning.
That was horrible.
Was there a time though, or ever a time,
when you thought, oh, I've gone too far,
or I really don't feel good doing this?
Well, I only signed on for one series
because I didn't know whether I was gonna like it.
And I thought it might drag me away from my first love,
which was working in the record company.
And then after the first series,
Channel 10 executive said, we're gonna re-sign.
And I said, well, look, I'm not sure I want to actually.
There was some really gnarly things that had happened.
After the first series, the surgeon sent me a letter
about his daughter suffering from anorexia.
And he said, after the Paulini comment,
where I made note of her weight in that gold dress,
she spiraled out of control and was admitted to hospital
and was virtually on death's door.
And he said, I'm holding you singularly responsible for this.
Paulini, this is really hard for me to say,
but it's the real world.
You should choose more appropriate clothes
or shed some pounds, I'm sorry.
And I guess for the first time in my life,
realized that my words carried a weight.
And I spoke to my friend who's a clinical psychologist.
She said, you may have been the trigger.
I'm not suggesting for one second
you're the cause of this girl's anorexia,
but you may have been the trigger
that pushed her over the edge.
And that's a hard thing to understand.
That's a hard one to take.
I'm a father, I've got two girls.
I cannot imagine what it would be like
to see your little girl wasting away in a hospital.
So to have that pinned on me was pretty tough.
So for Idol 2, I said, look,
I'm not sure I'm ready for it.
Well, let's unpack that feeling then for you.
How then did you reconcile that?
I rang him up and I think he was surprised to hear from me.
And I just said, look,
I'm terribly sorry to hear about your daughter.
And he said, I don't want you ringing me.
I don't want you ringing her.
I don't want you getting in touch with us
because things may get legal.
And I went, right, okay, well, I'm sorry to hear that.
And I don't know what to say.
I really, I didn't, I was floored.
When someone's accusing you of killing their daughter,
that's pretty heavy stuff.
So I don't know how I dealt with it.
The fact is I did go back on Idol
and I was just a straight talking.
So maybe I didn't learn a thing out of that whole episode.
But surely there must be a part of you,
the fact that you're able to talk about it in this way now
shows that you have an insight into what your words meant
and the impact that they had on people.
Yeah, but then there's another side of me, Jess,
that just thinks, well, hold on a cotton-picking moment.
I can understand series one, which was out of the blue,
being a surprise to people when they turn up
and got one between the eyes from the pommy.
But in series two, it was an enormous institution by then.
Everybody knew Australian Idol.
They knew how it worked.
And it was the biggest show on TV.
We used to regularly rate two and a half million
on those Sunday shows, which is huge.
That was only 20 years ago,
but how television has changed in terms of the raw numbers.
I was a household name.
I had to come to terms with that.
But people turned up for series two.
Surely they knew what they were getting into.
So I don't know how people could complain
about getting one between the eyes from the pommy
on series two when they knew what they were stepping into.
So tricky, I don't know.
Look, as I said before, I don't like putting people down.
I'd rather pump someone's tyres up
than let them deflate them.
But that role required someone to be a straight talker.
And I must admit that everybody does get a rosette
for turning up these days.
And I know that makes me sound a little bit blunt,
but if you want to be excellent at something,
you need to take some criticism.
If you want to improve,
you've got to start with the home truths.
And let's face it too, there are some people,
I'm one of them, who cannot sing.
So why delude yourself that you're going
to be a recording artist when you can't sing?
The other weirdest thing for me,
a lot of these contestants would turn up with their family
and groups and supporters.
And it was great for them filming the backstories,
they'd all be cheering them on.
The contestant would come in, would get slammed by me,
because they couldn't sing a note.
And then occasionally I'll go out
and I'd be harangued by these families saying,
you don't know what you're looking for.
And I said, look, I'm perfectly willing to understand
that your daughter's tone deaf.
I can't believe all of you are.
Why would you let her come?
Why would you let, why on earth would you endorse someone
so unbelievably talentless to come along
and put themselves through this when you know she's rubbish?
You can't all be tone deaf, it's impossible.
And what did they say?
People don't want to hear that.
Nobody wants to be told their kids are rubbish, do they?
No, of course not, of course not.
I must say, I'm a little bit that brand of parent
who does like to give everyone a prize or a present or.
Because you're gorgeous, that's your brand.
My brand is a little bit gnarly around the edges.
But not brand, I mean, let's talk about that brand.
Yes, your brand, I suppose, on Australian Idol
was being brash and blunt,
but there's a lot more to you than that.
Oh, there always is.
There's gonna be a lot more to everyone.
Carl Sanderlands, who I think you spoke to,
his brand is, you know, he's brash and he's gnarly.
Everybody asks me about Carl and I say,
look, spend half an hour with Carl
and tell me you don't like him.
Because he's incredibly engaging, he's funny,
You know, he's actually a kind person.
You know, he's got a huge ego,
which can be quite debilitating sometimes.
I would tell him to his face, but he's a lovely man.
You know, so it's never gonna be just that.
It's like I used to liken it to being a boxer.
Boxers don't run around the street punching people,
boxers put gloves on, enter into a bout,
and in that controlled environment, they punch each other.
And that's what I did.
When I stepped into Australian Idol,
I had to inhabit the role
of the cold, hard music industry executive,
delivering the facts as I saw them.
And then when I got out of makeup,
I was lovable dicko again.
Everyone gets a rosette with lovable dicko.
And so the music industry dicko,
what was that like?
Because you had an incredibly successful career,
working with some of the biggest names in the world
before you came to prominence in Australia
on Australian Idol.
What is that world like?
For someone like me, it sounds so glamorous and incredible.
It was really glamorous.
I was fortunate to be in the music industry
in the heyday, really, in the 80s,
when we started convincing everyone
that they had to buy the same album they had on vinyl,
So the industry became very rich in that decade.
And that's when a lot of the excesses presented themselves.
So loads of A-list parties, limos, business class travel,
drugs, groupies, all of that.
And yeah, it was exciting.
Tell me more about that then.
What do you want to know,
the groupies, the drugs, or the money?
All of it. Right.
Well, yeah, I never took drugs as a kid, actually.
Not even when I was at university.
I was a late starter because I loved my sport so much.
I was a real late starter.
And then when I met my wife, Mel,
and she was in the record industry,
her first marriage had fallen apart
because of drugs, basically.
So Mel was pretty steadfastly anti-drugs
and has been all of our relationship for 37 years.
I had my first line of cocaine when I was like 27.
And I thought, my word, I've been missing out on this.
And there was a lot of,
just everyone in the record industry seemed to take cocaine.
And then ecstasy came along.
Wasn't so fond of that.
Dabbled in it because it's the only way, frankly,
you can listen to techno and make sense of it.
Oasis. Didn't you look after Oasis?
For some reason, that's found its way into my Wikipedia.
And I've never worked with Oasis.
And I've never said I've worked with Oasis.
Rubbed shoulders with them once or twice,
and they were an amazing act.
But look, I used to kick myself all the time, Jess.
I was from Birmingham, from a council estate,
and ended up working at a fairly senior level
in the music industry.
Got paid a lot of money to hang out with rock stars,
go backstage, travel around the world with them.
And I thought, this doesn't happen to people like me.
The people where I come from work in car industry.
They work in factories.
They didn't hang around with Dave Grohl and the Food Fighters.
And I thought, wow, this is just the best thing ever.
I have had a blessed life, Jess.
And I hope it continues.
So what was it about you,
you said you couldn't imagine
that you would have been in this world
that got you into that music world?
Well, it was my wife.
She was a publicist,
and I was a window cleaner when she met me,
because if you saw the state of our windows now,
you'd never know.
The Cobbler's kids are always the worst shod.
Like your doctor's kids, too.
They never go to the doctor.
I kind of fell into the industry
and became a music journalist
and then became a publicist.
And people have said of me that I was never starstruck.
I love musicians and I love artists.
I have my heroes.
But my old boss said to me,
you never get overawed by artists.
You always believe you're as important as them.
And he puts them at ease
because they can't kind of pick you out.
And I think that's the nice way of him saying
I had ideas above my stage.
there was no one who actually made you starstruck.
No, I thought I'm your mate.
I'm mates with Pearl Jam.
Look, it was a bit odd.
So I've got in a lineup to meet Michael Jackson once,
and you weren't allowed to touch him
or look him in the eye.
And that was a bit odd.
You go, well, I'm never gonna be on your level.
Never gonna live in a Neverland
with a monkey called Bubbles.
Could you talk to him?
Were you allowed to talk to him?
No, not really, no.
It was like a royal variety performance
when they come past and just a bit of a glance.
Just a very odd dude all around.
But I got to meet people like Billy Joel
and hang out with him for a few days
and realize what an absolute down-to-earth lovely man he was.
Dave Grohl, one of the most beautiful people
in the record industry.
I spent a week in Los Angeles with the Foo Fighters
and Dave when we signed them to BMG.
And that was spectacular.
That was so much fun.
You just think, what am I doing here?
How did I end up here?
Any diva sort of behaviour from them?
Were you the number one diva?
Oh yeah, look, I had a band called Warrens
threw a burger in my face once
because I delivered them the wrong burger.
So I ended up with a filet of fish in my face,
which wasn't very nice.
I did shirt front him.
I think he was a bit surprised.
I don't think record company people in America
grab them by the scruff of the neck and threaten them.
So he would never have thrown another burger in your face.
No, I think he learnt a lesson that day.
Mind you, it's hard to take these guys seriously.
They've got makeup and glitter
and the eyes were stinging from the hair lacquer.
But that's not so bad if there's only one person
who throws a burger at you.
Oh no, look, Christina Aguilera,
she was a tough one to deal with.
I remember being with Westlife,
who were a big, big boy band that Simon Cowell signed.
And we had them playing at Hyde Park.
It was their big, big debut show,
after they'd had all these number one hits.
We hired a booth for them at this swanky club after,
and they had never been there
because they were Dublin boys
and they felt like they'd arrived.
So we went in there and started ordering drinks for them
And then Christina comes in with her bouncer,
looks around this half empty place
and decides she wants to sit in our booth
and makes us move.
And she was on our label as well,
so I thought this could turn ugly.
So I kind of had to talk the poor boys
into moving two booths along,
just so Xtina could have her privacy.
Oh, how ridiculous.
I mean, that's sort of pathetic.
But do you think it points to people then,
they don't feel terribly good within themselves
or they need to feel better by putting other people down?
I would say there's an element of that.
Look, do you know what?
It must mess with your head being a rock star or a pop star.
And you've got that level of adulation.
And I know what it's like.
The entourages that used to come in with American artists
were just beyond ridiculous.
There'd be PAs, PAs, PA,
and then the makeup artists would have a roadie.
And it was just, you know,
sometimes some of these American acts would come in
with entourages of like 30 people and they'd turn up.
And you'd have seen this in radio stations.
People turn up for an interview
and they've just got a cast of thousands.
You go, I wouldn't mind, but you're just a rapper.
You know, you're not even playing the instrument.
You don't need a guitar roadie.
Yeah, what do you think?
You need someone to carry your gun, obviously.
But what about, I mean, you say it messes with their head.
Did it mess with your head?
Being famous, yeah.
I think I stopped being famous or useful
to the broadcast media industry about seven years ago.
I think got sacked from my radio job
because I wasn't very good.
And the phone stopped ringing
and I kind of realised I'd had a good run
for someone with no discernible talent.
You know, I'd been on TV and media
and earned a lot of money for about 15 years.
I knew it was gonna run out at some point
and I probably stretched it five years longer
than I should have done.
But yet, when the phone stopped ringing
and I stopped working in media,
it absolutely shook me to the core
because I didn't realise how addicted I'd become to fame.
And I felt ashamed.
I felt so ashamed that something as so hollow
and superficial as C-grade celebrity status in Australia
had got its claws into me.
I'm embarrassed to tell you this,
but I'd even scour the internet
to look for mentions of myself.
And that's just awful to admit now.
My skin's crawling even telling you that.
But I'd just wrapped up my importance
and value as a person in this public figure.
And when that was threatened and questioned,
it really rocked my confidence,
like you wouldn't believe.
You know, I was in my 50s and just feeling invisible.
We moved to the country around that time
and I think that was part of it, Jess.
I think if I'd have still been valuable
to the media industry, there's no way I'd have left Sydney.
But I just thought it was a good place to hide
and to not feel so embarrassed
about not being valuable anymore.
I think being in this small town in Queensland,
Malayne, where I love it, I've got a passion for it,
it really helped me on my journey back
to become a normal person.
And I can't think of anything worse
than doing a TV show now.
I think the idea of being on a TV show
and becoming famous again
doesn't really appeal to me anymore.
Listening to you describe that sense of feeling invisible,
you talk about the shame that you feel around that.
But for a lot of people,
they don't even have to be on television,
but often when you get to that particular age
or point in your life, you do feel invisible
because suddenly it's like, well, where is my worth
or where is my value?
I've only just realised since I became old
how ageist we are in the entertainment industry,
but probably in other industries as well.
I'm managed artist now and I feel so grateful
that these young people allow me to work on their careers.
But I also know as an older regional manager
and also that dickhead off the telly,
I have to pedal three times harder
just to keep up with the young hot metro managers.
Sometimes when you're out with your artists,
you just feel like, oh, I really should go home now.
I should leave the kids to it.
It does look a bit embarrassing sometimes
when you're the oldest dude in the club.
You just look like a creep, really.
But you see, you've got all this life experience.
So yes, leave the club early,
but then have your life experience
to give them those insights and advice.
But let's talk more to about that sense
of the phone not ringing.
That's something I can relate to.
I understand that feeling of when so much of your life
is about your title or who you are
and how people perceive you and see you.
And when that no longer happens,
you can feel incredibly lost for a time and depressed.
I really struggled.
What did you struggle with though?
Well, I struggled with who was I.
You had a pretty public altercation
with your work, didn't you?
It wasn't that the industry just backed away
from Jess Rowe, was it?
And you are quite picky as well.
Oh, not picky, just selective.
You are very choosy.
You are very selective about what you do.
And I think that's great.
But I don't get the feeling that the industry
has ever turned its back on you, Jess.
But it's all about perception, isn't it?
And so I felt it had,
because the phone didn't ring anymore.
No one was calling me.
I'd find myself giving my CV to the butcher
when people would say to me,
weren't you the lady on the television?
Have you retired?
And I'd be like, no, I haven't retired.
That's an annoying question, isn't it?
It is so annoying.
I get that a lot.
Yes, like, no, I haven't retired.
So you've retired up here, Dick.
No, actually, I'm working harder than I ever have.
For less money, all right?
So why I share that bit about myself
is that I think it is about perception
that you've felt as if the industry
had turned its back on you.
I actually thought, I've just been found out at last.
I thought they've finally seen the emperor
with no clothes on.
That's what I thought.
I didn't think they went, oh, we don't need him anymore.
I just thought, they thought,
actually, he's not that good, is he?
And I've failed a lot.
I've made a lot of money out of failure.
You know, it's been quite lucrative for me.
It's been paid out of jobs, you know,
like let go with time left on your contracts.
Once the bruised ego's gone, you go, what?
You're telling me you're still gonna pay me
for the next year and I don't have to turn up.
But that's life, though, failure.
I think, how do we learn otherwise?
It's not realistic to ever be at the top of your game
all the time or fabulous at everything at every moment.
The hardest thing for me is realising
that I still feel like I would be a bit ashamed
to get a proper job.
Like, people in Mulayney,
a lot of guys I work with who've retired,
they work in the IGA and stuff,
and I'm like, that actually looks fun.
But I think I'd weird people out
with my little IGA hat on, my IGA polo shirt.
I don't know, I mean,
can someone like me do a normal job now?
Could I actually? Why not?
Could I be the lollipop man at the local school?
Would you get joy from doing it?
I think that's the key. I think so.
I actually, there's a lot of work I'd like to do.
I'd like to cook.
I would love to work in a cafe.
I'd love to go and work in a cafe and cook.
I don't know, I just think it would be a bit odd, really.
Life, I learn more and more, the older I get,
So what if it's odd?
Is that because you worry about what people think?
Yeah, I'm shocking at worrying about what people think.
I'm right the opposite to my wife.
I had this explained to me
that the difference between extroverts and introverts
is not whether they're the life and soul of the party.
Clinically, apparently, an extrovert is someone
who bases all of their life decisions
on what other people think of them.
Whereas an introvert base all of their decisions
on how they see themselves.
And that's my wife completely.
Mel, she couldn't give her monkeys
what people think about her.
She makes all of her decisions based on how she feels.
I'm the total opposite.
I just feel so visible and so exposed
that most of my decisions are based on
how it's going to look to other people,
which is shameful.
Honestly, I feel like a worm now.
I hope you're going to pump me up
and make me feel good before I leave.
I'm going to go straight to a bar.
You've been very open about your battle,
if that's the right word, with alcohol.
Do you know what happened?
I've liked to drop in a bucket.
I do like a drink.
And when I first hit the public eye,
when I first became famous,
it did mess with my head a bit.
And I reckon I used to self-medicate a lot more
because I started drinking very heavily after Idol.
Just because if I'd go into a pub to meet people,
everyone would turn around and stare at me.
And I would slam down three drinks really quickly
just to power down.
So I didn't care if people were staring.
I used it to self-medicate.
And so I still drink heavily,
but now I binge on abstinence as well.
I couldn't do what I do and be effective for my artist
if I was pissed every night.
But I'm still, if I'm going to drink,
I do like to drink heavily,
but I'll take six weeks off.
Like I'm trying to lose weight at the moment
for when I reach 60, I want to be a certain weight.
And I can't do that while I'm drinking.
So I'm not drinking at the moment.
I've completely turned my back on alcohol since Christmas.
However, I saw an old mate
that I hadn't seen for ages last night in Sydney.
So I had a drink.
So I'm not completely prescriptive about it.
I just, I binge on alcohol and then I binge on abstinence.
And that kind of works for me.
I don't like moderation.
Well, you can't do moderation by the sounds of it.
Yeah, my wife can have one drink.
So if I'm not drinking, I'll make her a gin and tonic at night
and I'll smell it and I'll hand it over to her
and that's good enough for me.
So, I mean, would you describe yourself then as an alcoholic?
On and off, yeah.
If I'm in a period of drinking,
I will plan my day around whether I can have a drink or not,
which sounds like an alcoholic, doesn't it?
But then if I'm not drinking, I'm absolutely fine with it.
What stops you from not drinking at all?
I do like the social aspects.
I like the feeling.
I like the buzz I get from it.
I like the fact that it just turns my brain down
to mood lighting, which is a lot better for me.
And yeah, and I like the taste of it.
So it would be very hard for me
to turn my back on all of that.
I did for three years.
When I was doing radio in Melbourne,
I had the whole day to get pissed and would.
And so I was living on my own in Melbourne.
I'd go and find a lunch with some mates
and I realised towards the end of that year,
I was getting through four bottles of wine a day
And I thought that's probably a bit too much.
So I said to Mel, I'm gonna give up on Jan wine.
She went, yes, of course you are, dear.
And I gave up on Jan wine
and I didn't drink for the whole year.
Actually, Chrissie Swan, who I was doing radio with,
she went, look, I have to say to you,
you were much better at radio when you were drunk.
It's true though.
When I turned up to do my sloths with a hangover,
I was looser and probably much better
for FM breakfast radio.
Probably no good for the ABC,
but yeah, I wasn't as good or as much fun apparently.
Mel said I was a lot more boring in that first year.
Isn't that interesting?
Cause that's then about what other people think of you
as opposed to what actually might be best for you
I had a great year.
That first year of sobriety,
myself and my business partner,
who you know well, David Wilson,
we got our show up called Can of Worms.
So we actually got that show commissioned.
It was actually that show that drove me back to drink
cause I was the host for that first year.
And then at the end of it,
I realised that I wasn't good enough to host it.
Andrew Denton was our partner
and we had it on channel 10.
And all of these guys more or less said,
look, you're not cutting it.
And I didn't realise that,
but all of them felt this way
right from the start of the show.
And I was furious because I actually didn't need
to host that show.
Someone else could have done it.
I was happy to be a creator and a producer,
but they kind of watched me slowly fail.
And I don't know,
I don't know what I was doing wrong
or what I could have done better,
but I just wasn't up to it.
And I found that so utterly devastating and disappointing
that I wasn't good enough to host my own show.
So I went to England to see my daughter with Mel,
stay in the hotel room in London.
Mel got her new iPhone out and she was playing with it.
And she said, I've just checked on my phone.
You haven't had a drink for a thousand days.
And I went, well, that's too bloody long.
Let's get pissed.
So I ordered up some champagne
and got back on it there and then.
But was that because though you think you failed?
Look, as I said, I'm no stranger to failure.
So I don't know if that's a big trigger.
I was just embarrassed.
I'll tell you what I felt so icky about.
It wasn't the failing
because I've got no problem with that.
It was knowing that all these people around me
knew I was shit at this and didn't say anything about it.
And I carried on presenting that show.
You were on one of our best episodes.
But you were great on it.
You were great on it.
Look, I don't know if I was, Jess.
To be honest, when I saw Chrissy Swan,
who took over from me, when Chrissy took over,
I went, yeah, that's a bought one.
I'm a particular type of person.
I don't know if I'm that sort of a presenter.
I don't know what I've got to offer TV.
Frankly, at the best of times,
I thought I could handle a conversation like that.
When I look back on it,
I probably wasn't right for the show.
I just wished everyone would have told me, that's all.
But did people tell you along the way?
Andrew Denton got a few people in
to try and help me read Auto-Q.
I didn't think I was that bad at it,
but apparently I was shit at.
And there's a skill to reading Auto-Q.
I think you'd probably be good at it, Jess.
I didn't know when to raise my eyebrow or breathe,
apparently, so I don't know.
I thought I was good at reading,
but apparently I was shocking at Auto-Q
and just really awkward.
And apparently the network and Denton
and even my manager, all people,
they all knew that I wasn't cutting it
and was gonna have to face the chop at the end of this.
I just wished they'd have said earlier.
Look, maybe they sent me little signals
and I just totally misread them
because I was up myself so much,
but I'm not blaming them for me drinking.
But yeah, it was after that failure and fall from grace
that I went back into drinking with a vengeance.
You're so tough on yourself, though.
Actually, I really dig myself,
but the only way I can allow myself
to really approve of myself
is if I'm honest about myself as well.
That's the price of entry for that particular emotion.
That's what gets me in the game.
I'm prepared to back myself completely,
to the point of semi-narcissism sometimes,
but the only way I can do that is if I'm really honest.
Talking about now love, because you've mentioned Mel.
You say, my wife, but you guys aren't actually married.
No, we never bothered.
When I first met her, she was out of her relationship,
but still married legally.
And then eventually that divorce came through.
But we had kids by then,
and we used to say to our kids when they were young,
we'd say, how about if mum and dad get married?
And they would lose their minds and say,
no, that's disgusting.
Because I think if kids watch a lot of Disney,
a marriage always happens at the end of the Beauty
and the Beast or Snow White.
It's a sea change for someone, isn't it?
And marriage equals change.
I don't think our kids ever wanted that sort of change.
So we used to try and bribe them with,
you can have these beautiful bridesmaid dresses,
and they used to scream and cry and say, no way.
And then it just got to the point where there was no point.
We kind of ran out of time really.
And the necessity receded as well.
I love her to bits.
She's just been my rock.
I wouldn't have achieved anything without her.
And we're so happy together.
We laugh at the same off-colour jokes.
We love the same things.
We chalk and cheese in many ways.
Yeah, she's great for me.
And just a wonderful mother.
And she's just got a great, she's quality, my missus.
She's just absolute bloody quality.
And it sounds like too, she's let you be you.
Well, she's had to really, but she's great.
I mean, when I first did Idol, I said,
oh, look at this, what's going on?
She said, well, look, you've always been a bit of a
see you next Tuesday.
It just means that now you're getting paid for it.
And so she's always managed to bring me down to earth
with a hell of a bump, you know, yeah.
So for you now, you're soon to be 60.
Did you ever think growing up in Birmingham
that this would be your life now?
I was only coming to Australia on a three year contract
just to get the kids out of England.
Just have great experience.
But then fell in love with Australia and thought,
oh my word, you'd have to be crazy
not to bring your kids up in Australia if you could.
It's just such a brilliant lifestyle.
And such an open country.
Back in the UK, there's a class system that really
subliminally puts you down and keeps you in your place
And that doesn't exist in Australia.
There really is way more of a meritocracy out here.
And then of course I went on TV
and started earning lots of money.
And I've had a fantastic life so far.
I'm 60, so I reckon hopefully I've got another
three decades left in me.
I've got no desire to stop working.
I just feel privileged really.
I live in a beautiful part of the world
in a beautiful part of that country
with a beautiful woman, two really smart, funny kids.
And we haven't got any money worries.
So as long as we keep our health, it's awesome.
And when you were growing up though,
I mean you grew up very working class.
Background, both your parents were factory workers.
My dad worked at Standard Triumph in Coventry.
My mom was a mobile hairdresser
and worked at Leyland on the track as well.
My dad was an alcoholic.
When I was about five, he had to go
into a mental institution to dry out.
And it was probably PTSD because in the 50s for five years,
he was in the Malaysian conflict in the SAS.
So I think he saw a lot of gnarly action basically.
He saw a lot of death and destruction and violence.
And so he's probably suffering from PTSD
thinking back on it.
But he became a drunk and dried out in an institution.
And then they put him on a foundation course.
So he started becoming a mature student
and he got a scholarship to Cambridge University
to read English and went to Cambridge when I was 10.
And that was kind of the end of the marriage really
because I think he was just slightly an attractive older
man and putting me to bat with all these young students,
young impressionable students.
And yeah, that him and my mom grew apart.
But my mom was my angel.
My mom, she died in COVID a couple of years ago.
I never made it back for the funeral, unfortunately.
But she was just-
That must've been-
Yeah, it was really tough.
And I still haven't really processed that.
Do you know, the other day I just,
I'm gonna ring my mom up.
I went, she's dead.
And it just devastated me.
Just, yeah, just the fact that you can't ring them up
and share your week with them, you know.
But she was an angel.
She reached 80 and I think she was stuck in lockdown
and just went, nah, that's it, I'm checking out.
I think she went, this world is not great for me anymore.
And I think she just wanted to make her 80th birthday
and then just check out really.
So, but she was a good woman.
So when was the last time you spoke to your mom?
Oh, I FaceTimed her the day before she died.
She went pretty quickly.
I rang her up on the Tuesday.
She seemed really odd and I spoke to my sister
half an hour later who lived with her.
And I went, something's up with mom.
She said, oh, I think she's just a bit embarrassed
about, she's not feeling very well.
I went, right, okay.
And then the next day, Claire rang and said,
oh, she's gone to hospital.
So I FaceTimed her that night.
And they said, because COVID was pretty rife at that time,
they said, look, you can't come in and sit with her, Claire.
And then they said, look, you actually need to come
and sit with her because she's dying.
So they allowed Claire to go in
with a bottle of whiskey and the dog.
And she sat there with the dog
and a bottle of whiskey and my sister.
I FaceTimed that night and the next day she died.
But she said, you're just sitting here waiting for me
to die, aren't you?
And she said, well, I can go if you want, mom.
She went, no, it's okay.
And yes, she died with half a tumbler of whiskey left
and a hand on the dog's snout
and with the other hand in my sister's.
Good way to go, so.
That's beautiful.
I mean, you know, a long drawn out illness
would have been shocking,
but she went in the space of three days, so.
Good on you, mom.
Oh, Dicko, thank you for sharing that.
Anything, I'll talk to you about anything.
So let's talk a bit about your dad.
Yes, complicated fella.
Yeah, because you had quite a fractured relationship
with him, didn't you?
Yeah, look, he sexually abused my sister
and she never forgave him for that.
Even though she tried, she actually tried to forgive him.
But every time she tried, he would just behave so poorly.
He moved to Italy about 35 years ago
and he just ran away from all of his commitments.
I think he owed people money in the UK.
There were a lot of dodgy relationships
and he just ran away from all of it and lived in Geneva
and basically became a town drunk.
I really made an effort with him
and I used to fly him over to London to see the kids,
but he would just behave so unbelievably poorly.
He would just get drunk and misbehave
and just fall out with Mel.
And it just wasn't good.
So in the end, I just said, do you know what, dad?
I just don't think there's anything good
coming out of our relationship.
So I'm actually cutting you off.
I don't really need you in my life.
This was shortly after moving to Australia.
He used to do this thing which was really bloody irritating.
It's a port, Geneva, and there used to be
a lot of Aussie tourists there.
If ever he heard an Australian accent in a bar,
he would go up to them and start talking to these Aussies
and say, oh, my son's dicko.
And they'd go, no, why, jeez, really?
And then quite often, this happened to me
on four or five separate occasions,
people would bail me up around Australia
and say, I met your dad in Geneva
and he's a great bloke and you need to ring him.
You're a really poor son.
And it used to really get me down.
And one time I just broke and I said,
look, you know my dad is actually a child molester.
He abused my sister.
Is that the upstanding guy that you wanna support?
And that kind of shocked him and shut him up a bit.
Yeah, I'd get people ringing me up out of the blue
telling me to phone my dad and yeah.
How outrageous though that some people think
that that's an okay thing to do,
to take it upon themselves.
Yeah, I think he was quite manipulative though.
He was a real charmer.
If he wanted to, he would absolutely
grease the wheels and get in with you.
He was very good at getting people to do stuff for him.
He was a real taker, a real sociopath actually.
I know that word gets bandied around a lot
but he was a narcissist and a sociopath.
And I get terrified sometimes
when I find myself behaving just like him.
He was a massive motivation in my life to not be like him.
He never provided for our family
and I always said that's a massive thing for me.
I've got to provide for my family
and I'm gonna stick by I want a long-term relationship
because we've never had a perfect relationship
but we've got one that lasts
and they're much better than perfect relationships
because they don't exist.
But yeah, he was a real manipulator, my dad.
And I hope I'm not that much like him
but I do suspect I've got traits
that do show up every now and then.
I certainly drink as much as him.
Well, I wonder is that why you drink but then don't drink
to show that you're not like him.
Yeah, today I'm gonna be like my mom.
No, my mom actually, my mom could drink for England.
Honestly, my mom could drink a bottle of whiskey
and you wouldn't know she'd had a drink.
She was legendary in my family as having hollow legs
but my dad was a two-pot screamer
and it's odd because he was the alcoholic
but he was a shocking drunk.
He couldn't hold his drink at all.
My mom was a champion.
So I don't know really.
I think I blame both of them for my dodgy liver
but socially and emotionally,
they gave me very different things.
You know you're nothing like your dad.
It's kind of you to say that and I do feel better for it
but if you saw him, I think you'd say,
oh, I'm seeing some similarities there.
Look, you can't throw the baby out with the bathwater.
I get a lot of my intellect and my humour from my dad.
You know, he was a very funny, charming bloke
plus super smart.
You know, he got a first at Cambridge
as a mature student.
When you went to uni, you did politics.
Yeah, I wasn't as good a studier as I should have done.
I'd like to go now.
It was wasted on me then.
I'd love to learn now.
What's stopping you?
Nothing's stopping me.
I'd love to go back to university now and learn something
and also I'm still fascinated by politics, believe it or not.
I still put MSNBC on every day
to see what Donald Trump's been up to.
I'm fascinated by him.
Worst man in history.
I can't get enough of him.
Which is kind of the problem I think with many people,
they can't get enough of him.
Just finally, what brings you joy now?
Hearing new songs from my artists.
I just feel so blessed that these young people
allow me to hear their music and to comment on it
and to guide them.
One of my artists, Taylor Moss,
a young country artist who's amazing,
she had her first number one last year and I cried.
When she told me, I was like, I was gushing.
I was crying down the phone.
And I thought, where did this come from?
But it just fills me with so much joy
when you work with an artist who puts their heart
and soul in it and that gets recognised.
And it's just such an absolute buzz.
This can only be one number one single that week
And you go, wow, this is the best thing ever.
So I have a childlike joy about music.
I really, really do.
I feel so blessed in this final chapter of my working life
to be allowed back into that.
That is just the best thing ever.
I love food and I love cooking.
I cook every single meal.
And now we've got a really good vegetable garden.
We've learned to grow things.
We've become real country bumpkins.
So this is gonna sound so smug,
but we try to make sure we have at least two things
from the garden on our plate at every meal.
And that gives you such a fantastic sense of achievement.
It's just joyous, you know, just go out and pick some food
and come in, put music on, pour a glass of wine
and start preparing food.
That's just my happy time.
Sounds wonderful.
I'd love to come around for dinner.
You'd be more than welcome,
but you might have to bring your earplugs
because we swear a lot.
Oh, Dicko, I love you.
I love you too, Jason.
Thank you so much.
Thank you for having me.
Dicko really is quite something.
Wasn't it amazing how vulnerable he was
and how open he was?
And we had a huge hug after our chat.
I think you saw a whole different side to Dicko.
You could also hear how passionate Dicko is
about nurturing new talent.
You can check out his roster of musicians
at Tricycle Artist Management.
And he also has a podcast called Game on Mole.
And there's a link for both in our show notes.
Now, please, if Dicko's story did bring up
some issues for you, remember help is available
by calling Lifeline on 13 11 14
for a safe place to talk day and night.
For more big conversations like this one with Dicko,
I'd love for you to subscribe and follow
the Jessrow Big Talk Show podcast.
It means you will never miss an episode
and spread the word, tell everyone
how fabulous the podcast is.
And if you enjoyed this episode with Dicko,
I reckon you'll enjoy my chat with Osher Ginsburg.
Alcoholics call it a moment of clarity.
I just woke up and went, that's it, I'm done.
I can't ever do that again.
And it was just super clear to me
that I was no longer able to choose
whether or not that happened.
And it starts when I have the first drink.
So I'm just gonna not have the first drink.
The Jessrow Big Talk Show was presented by me, Jessrow,
executive producer, Nick McClure,
audio producer, Chris Marsh,
supervising producer, Sam Cavanaugh.
Until next time, remember to live big.
Life is just too crazy and glorious
to waste time on the stuff that doesn't matter.