Georgia Lee Sings the Blues Down Under [1962]

Georgia Lee — born Ramer Lyra “Dulcie” Pitt in Cairns in 1921 — occupies a singular place in Australian music history: a trailblazer whose artistry broke barriers long before the industry was ready to acknowledge them. A proud woman of Torres Strait Islander, Jamaican and Scottish heritage, Lee grew up in a musical family and began her career in the dance halls, clubs, and hotel circuits of North Queensland, singing jazz and blues with a voice that could shift from velvety warmth to spine-tingling intensity.

By the 1940s and ’50s, Lee had become one of Australia’s most respected jazz vocalists, performing in smoky nightclubs, radio broadcasts, and touring variety shows at a time when opportunities for Indigenous artists — let alone Indigenous women — were painfully limited. Yet she remained unshakable, her talent so undeniable that audiences gravitated toward her wherever she sang.

Her most enduring milestone arrived in 1962, when she released Georgia Lee Sings the Blues Down Under, widely acknowledged as the first full-length studio album recorded by an Indigenous Australian artist. Backed by top-tier Melbourne jazz players, the record showcased her deep, expressive phrasing and effortless command of the repertoire. Its significance cannot be overstated: Lee carved a space in a recording industry that had largely excluded Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander voices, laying groundwork for generations of First Nations musicians to come.

But one of her bravest artistic moments occurred more than a decade earlier. In the early 1950s, Lee performed “Strange Fruit,” the haunting anti-lynching protest song made famous by Billie Holiday. Her performance is believed to be the first Australian rendition of the song — and it sent shockwaves through a country still unwilling to face its own racial violence. Lee delivered it with stark, devastating power; the impact was immediate. Broadcasters refused to air it, effectively banning the song from Australian radio, a silence that spoke as loudly as any lyric.

Lee’s willingness to perform “Strange Fruit” in front of Australian audiences was an act of cultural defiance and emotional courage, placing her among the earliest voices in this country to use music as a platform for truth-telling and protest.

Despite her remarkable achievements, Georgia Lee has long been overlooked in mainstream narratives of Australian music. Yet her legacy is profound. She was a bridge between worlds — a jazz singer of international calibre, a proud Torres Strait Islander woman navigating an industry riddled with barriers, and a cultural pioneer whose artistry expanded what was possible for First Nations performers.

Today, as a new generation of Indigenous artists receives long-overdue recognition, Georgia Lee’s story resonates more loudly than ever. She wasn’t just ahead of her time; she helped shape the time that followed. Her voice — smoky, fearless, unforgettable — still echoes as a reminder of the women who paved the way with courage, genius, and song.