Did you know the bluestone walls of Pentridge Prison once reverberated with the sounds of reggae, punk, pop and country? The music came from the cell of the chosen DJ who operated the prison-only network for other incarcerated people.
It’s a part of the jail’s history that had been largely lost in time until a Melbourne record shop owner shared on social media in late August that he had purchased a collection of 2,000 records from Pentridge.
Joshua Smith, the owner of Footscray Records, in Melbourne’s inner west, now wants to hear from anybody who can fill him in on the history of the collection and its importance to those at “Bluestone College”.
Pentridge, in Melbourne’s north, was established in 1851 and officially closed in 1997. The site is now home to apartments, a cinema, shops, a piazza, and creative studios. The National Trust runs tours of the former prison buildings.
Josh, who has owned the store for nearly four years, was intrigued when a woman reached out to him earlier this year.
“We regularly advertise that we buy and sell records, and one day we had a cold call from a woman who said she had a collection of records from Pentridge,” he told About Time.
While the records were not in immaculate condition – about one quarter sat in plain folders rather than the original jackets, and some had songs scratched out – Josh felt it was important cultural memorabilia.
“The collection is not what I would normally look for, but it obviously has historical value,” he said. “It is mainly LPs, but there are also 12-inch singles and even old 78s (made from shellac, rather than vinyl).”
Did you know the bluestone walls of Pentridge Prison once reverberated with the sounds of reggae, punk, pop and country? The music came from the cell of the chosen DJ who operated the prison-only network for other incarcerated people.
It’s a part of the jail’s history that had been largely lost in time until a Melbourne record shop owner shared on social media in late August that he had purchased a collection of 2,000 records from Pentridge.
Joshua Smith, the owner of Footscray Records, in Melbourne’s inner west, now wants to hear from anybody who can fill him in on the history of the collection and its importance to those at “Bluestone College”.
Pentridge, in Melbourne’s north, was established in 1851 and officially closed in 1997. The site is now home to apartments, a cinema, shops, a piazza, and creative studios. The National Trust runs tours of the former prison buildings.
Josh, who has owned the store for nearly four years, was intrigued when a woman reached out to him earlier this year.
“We regularly advertise that we buy and sell records, and one day we had a cold call from a woman who said she had a collection of records from Pentridge,” he told About Time.
While the records were not in immaculate condition – about one quarter sat in plain folders rather than the original jackets, and some had songs scratched out – Josh felt it was important cultural memorabilia.
“The collection is not what I would normally look for, but it obviously has historical value,” he said. “It is mainly LPs, but there are also 12-inch singles and even old 78s (made from shellac, rather than vinyl).”
Josh said the seller was connected to one of the companies involved in the redevelopment of the Pentridge site and believes the records had been in storage for at least 20 years.
He is now cataloguing the titles, which include everything from novelty records, soundtracks, poetry, pop and country to punk, psychedelic and hard rock.
“It’s a real mix of genres – a lot of popular music, a surprising number of reggae recordings and even albums from 1960s French singer Françoise Hardy,” he said.
“Considering how brutal I believe the place was, it’s surprising those at Pentridge were allowed to have access and enjoy music – it’s an interesting piece of humanity.”
Doug Morgan, who served more than a decade at Pentridge in the 1970s and 1980s, told About Time that the radio station was set up in D Division, which was home to prisoners on remand and sometimes those in protection.
“Before televisions were allowed in cells, music was pretty much the only form of entertainment,” he said. “The DJ, who was usually an older guy who had done a fair amount of jail, had the cell set up with equipment and records. The music would be broadcast to speakers in other cells.
“It was good entertainment because reading was the only other option. Guys could drop their requests into a box and sometimes request songs that they knew would annoy other people. It passed the time and was a bit of fun and entertainment.”
Doug, who now mentors and supports at-risk youth, added that it was a “different style of jail” in the 1970s and 1980s. While he doesn’t know where the records came from, he said there was more community involvement, with drama groups coming in and the guys making wooden or stuffed toys for children.
“It was definitely a different style of jail compared to these days,” he said.
Since the story of the record collection spread on social media, Josh has heard from at least three parties interested in purchasing the collection, but he is not sure if he wants to sell.
“I want to do what’s best for the collection given it’s such an interesting piece of history,” he said. “There are not many scribbles on the covers, but there is one that simply says, ‘I hate this place.’”
Josh said the seller was connected to one of the companies involved in the redevelopment of the Pentridge site and believes the records had been in storage for at least 20 years.
He is now cataloguing the titles, which include everything from novelty records, soundtracks, poetry, pop and country to punk, psychedelic and hard rock.
“It’s a real mix of genres – a lot of popular music, a surprising number of reggae recordings and even albums from 1960s French singer Françoise Hardy,” he said.
“Considering how brutal I believe the place was, it’s surprising those at Pentridge were allowed to have access and enjoy music – it’s an interesting piece of humanity.”
Doug Morgan, who served more than a decade at Pentridge in the 1970s and 1980s, told About Time that the radio station was set up in D Division, which was home to prisoners on remand and sometimes those in protection.
“Before televisions were allowed in cells, music was pretty much the only form of entertainment,” he said. “The DJ, who was usually an older guy who had done a fair amount of jail, had the cell set up with equipment and records. The music would be broadcast to speakers in other cells.
“It was good entertainment because reading was the only other option. Guys could drop their requests into a box and sometimes request songs that they knew would annoy other people. It passed the time and was a bit of fun and entertainment.”
Doug, who now mentors and supports at-risk youth, added that it was a “different style of jail” in the 1970s and 1980s. While he doesn’t know where the records came from, he said there was more community involvement, with drama groups coming in and the guys making wooden or stuffed toys for children.
“It was definitely a different style of jail compared to these days,” he said.
Since the story of the record collection spread on social media, Josh has heard from at least three parties interested in purchasing the collection, but he is not sure if he wants to sell.
“I want to do what’s best for the collection given it’s such an interesting piece of history,” he said. “There are not many scribbles on the covers, but there is one that simply says, ‘I hate this place.’”
