Why feel you may ask? Way back in 1969-1970 when the local scene was, as it is now, flowering, bands and musicians were jamming together on stage and little was actually being transferred to vinyl. Financially the level was even smaller than it is today, but overall spirits of producing fine music were bubbling at a healthy high.

One such artist that stuck out like a proverbial sore thumb was the magnificent Wendy Saddington. A vocal portrayer of the blues, once singer in the Chain which featured Warren Morgan, Phil Manning and the famous rhythm good-duo, Barry Sullivan and Barry Harvey.

Since then Wendy has drifted and generally progressed further into her one-woman repertoire of songs. A repertoire that has changed, but phrasing, feel and range that has mellowed, tightened and become so much more musically proficient.

Today there are very few set lyrics but spontaneous, improvised, free-form music that is developed between Wendy and her accompanying musicians. Musical art and visual theatrics.

The last Wendy Saddington human experience that I encountered was shared with forty other people. A camp dance, featuring the incredible Sylvia and the Synthetics. Visual insanity. And miss Saddington supported instrumentally by drummer Peter Figures and congo-player Bigulat.

An experience and that sheer musical buzz that I know I'm going to remember till I'm old and grey. To simplifier things, you could say: Perhaps the lad's been… blown out! Indeed, indeed.

Today Wendy looks more like an African-gypsy, beggar woman as opposed to her appearance of '72. A time in which she wore alternate black/white leotards and her stark black/white clown's makeup. Continually a vision of change, for in her late teenage singing years, she was noted for her Afro-hairstyle, and her skin-tight denim and boots. Not forgetting lashings of leather, depending upon the climate.

I do believe that photographer Phil Morris has a rare photo of Wendy, Billy Thorpe, Barry McAskil, Lobby Lloyd and Max Merritt on stage together at Australia's first rock festival, Ourimbah summer '70, tucked away in his negative files.

Here we were, seeing Wendy perform nearly four years later. A charisma that shined forth from honesty and emotion.

These two percussion musicians were improvising around interwoven moods, rhythms and ideas. Often they would lay back behind Wendy with gentle drumming from Peter Figures, together with a multi-rhythmic conga playing. Wendy doesn't only float with lyrics but she uses her voice to emit sounds in cohesion with the music. I distinctly remember tranquil humming and her drawn-out phrasing.

Wendy Saddington doesn't live in the high bracket rock scene. For some reason she's shied away from this audience. Those who have seen her vocal triumphs feel that she belongs in the rock scene. Patronise her and then let her take over.