Sometimes, we think we have a grasp of something when we simply don't. And meaning, which we think we understand, slips out of our hands as readily as an eel (understandably) reluctant to grace our dinner plate.

Earlier this month, Sydney's favourite rock 'n' roll pollie, PM Albanese, said that the Coalition were “delulu with no solulu”. 

Poor bloke wasn't really advised too well with that one. See, the meaning is now in fact the reverse; that delusion really is the solution. Although meanings, especially with slang, can twist and slide out from under like an eel.

In the middle of Adelaide is Victoria Square, with the obligatory statue of the late queen. It also boasts the poxy (and recently-moved) “Three Rivers” fountain.

Originally built to commemorate the 1963 visit of the king and queen, in true Adelaide fashion the monstrosity was finally unveiled in 1968.

John Dowie (1915-2008) contributed some lovely sculptures. This isn't one of them.

This is how he describved it: "‘I made the two lesser rivers female figures (a woman and a black swan for the Torrens and a woman with a heron for the Onkaparinga). These are the cultivated areas, so I made the women European. But the old substantial Murray is male and had to be Aboriginal’."

The Aboriginal chap is hanging on to a bin chicken, but the birds themselves? They all seem to trying to escape their human handlers. Possibly they think they're about to be invited to sit on a plate sans feathers and guts and slathered with seasoning. And, certainly there's a whiff of the Jindyworobaks about Dowie's sculptures, but what actually makes the entire thing a bloody eyesore (and I'm speaking as someone who's been familiar with the sight of it for over 50 years) is the cringeworthy “crown” which makes up 90 percent of its awkward bulk. 

My point? We become so accustomed to ugly things around us that any initial reaction wears off and what is truly repellent becomes part of the background (rather like horrible wallpaper which becomes familiar over time, splattered bolognaise stains and all). Delulu is the solulu - it's the only way to get by: if we reacted like a horse shying at a lary hat every time we walked past, say, Federation Square in Melbourne, we'd be far more miserable.

Instead, Melbunnites have had to put up with Feddy Skwair's ugly and pointless facade for the last 23 years or so. While I cringe at its ghastliness every time I visit (and incidentally date my increasing disinterest in Melbun culture from the time the botulistic carbuncle was unveiled) I see that almost everyone else seems immune to the vile object. 

God knows what overseas tourists make of rubbish like the Victoria Square fountain or the dreary and unenticing Federation Square. A swift look of horror before they move on, equally swiftly. Let's face it, if you were just visiting and, uninformed of the contents of Federation Square, would you go in?

Well, of course, you're not me and vice versa, but surely no, god alone no. 

Don't think I'm taking a cheap poke at Melbourne, by the by, our Adelaide College of the Arts building is a treacly attempt to look modern: the usual red brick factory “look” with a pointless lump of hollow metal sheeting bolted on the outside, while inside it's all bombastic Stalinist brushed concrete, exposed ducts and pipes. There's a silver lining, I suppose: if the Remand Centre ever gets overcrowded with meth-heads, we can park them in the Adelaide College of the Arts. Maybe the students will even learn something.

Delulu is the solulu, see?

As a brisk aside, have you seen the tragedy that houses the National Theatre in London? not to mention the Tate Modern? They may be lush and wonderful inside for all I know but just ambling past they give off a distinct 'nothing interesting to see here, move along' vibe, and I'm amazed they're not festooned with gang tags. Stalin rools, okay?

My point? Again? If you have treasures to show folks, why not house them in something that entices the culturally ignorant in ... ?

But, perhaps that's the point. We wouldn't want the culturally ignorant to come crashing in on our lovely worthy piccies. Delulu is the solulu...

Odd. See, based on my own (admittedly limited) experience and anecdotal knowledge alone, I could've sworn that the Australian wave of modern music, usually known as rock'n'roll, has influenced millions of folks around the world. 

In fact, far more so than Australian art. Or Australian mythology, or Australian photographs, or Australian literature and so forth. Not saying they're not important. Opera is important too. Humphrey Appleby says so. And I'm sure the state-funded operas are always utterly packed to the rafters, and chockas with ordinary folks like you and me.

But, hand on heart, if you had the choice of a free ticket to see your favourite Australian musicians clamber onto a stage and go for it, OR go for a relaxing amble through an Australian art gallery, which will you choose?

Ah-HAH!

Briefly in Melbourne to see the sterling Barry Adamson, be hypnotised by The Wreckery and behold The Stranglers (who were magnificent), we visit the Australian Music Vault.

My first thoughts were: Why on earth is the Australian Music Vault a) tucked away in what feels like a dank dungeon in the Yarts Precinct in Melbun, and b) why is it so incredibly fucking small and c) so obviously underfunded?

The obvious answer is that the Yarts sector should never have control of anything to do with modern music (which it doesn't comprehend except by accident, never mind rock'n'roll), partly because r'n'r is not usually government funded or (Albo excepted) sanctioned, and partly because the Yarts do not consider rock 'n' roll to be part of the Yarty food-chain. 

Whisper the truth: the Yarts have always looked down on rock'n'roll as something the proverbial cat dragged in, still kicking and squirting blood all over the cashmere. Look: the Yarts consider themselves a kind of Toorak to rock 'n' roll's Port Melbourne circa 1968. There's a reason Sir Les Patterson was so popular: he offended the deluded elegant and well-heeled. Delulu is the solulu; she'll be right, mate.

Why am I reacting so vigorously? Well, first, it's not about the space or lack of it given to my favourite Australian bands - it would be unrealistic and foolish to expect Bloodloss and The Lizard Train and Laughing Clowns to dominate such a space. No, it's partly because the displays do little to demonstrate the enormous impact Australian music has made around the world. 

Second, the displays are clearly the tip of the iceberg of the evident treasure trove in their collection, which means that the the curators have decided to stuff their few display cases with a wide variety of splashy exhibits all jammed in at once - but there is little or no idea of coherence, concept or context. 

I'll come back to this. 

To take a similar example of cultural pride: the UK has finally acknowledged that football is an integral part of British culture (and has been for hundreds of years), and there are now multiple dedicated museums. In Australia, instead of a National AFL Museum, a National Thugby Museum, a National Cricket Museum, a National Surfing Museum ... we have a Sports Museum, which ain't the same thing at all.

Not being especially interested in Australian sport I might add I wouldn't visit any of the bloody things, but my point is: these specific sports are culturally essential to the Australian way of life, and should not be squished in together, but proudly displayed for visitors and future generations in several states, with a more complete historical and social context. 

Given how important Australian music is and has been to popular culture, I'd say at least one dedicated Australian Music Museum - not run by Yarts-oriented folk - should be a thing. Where to put it? How about one in Melbun and one in Squidney? Surely there's a few dreadful old government buildings which need pulling down...?

But first, if you were designing an Australian Music Museum in a bespoke building (any decent museum dedicated to this would be bigger than Feddy Squair, with better threads), what outfits would you expect to dominate?

Well, for a start; Farnesy, Barnesy, Kylie, Cave and Kamahl. With a side order of Acca Dacca, Air Supply, Men at Work and Icehouse, and perhaps the Finn family. 

To the Vault's credit, these characters are present, but do not dominate. While I was relieved not to be drowned in FBKC&K bunting, I was at first surprised and then shocked that so many obviously significant figures were so very, very downplayed. I get that the curator's idea seems to be to show everyone more or less equally; however, sorry about this, but history ain't like that.

There's a reason the Slugfuckers never got very far (didn't see a poster of them). They deserve to be remembered, just like Purple Vulture Shit, but neither quite merit a room of their own (unless it's a room at Guantanamo Bay).

Expectations are the bane of our lives, of course. We say we don't have them but when things don't happen the way we expect them to we become irked. Sometimes that's a matter of our expectation being unrealistic, and other times it's a matter of what we encounter being seriously not up to snuff.

For example, take AC/DC. Please, take AC/DC. I mean, I like some of their stuff. But not a lot. You won't be surprised to learn that for me, rather than being a go-to rock-out evening, AC/DC are simply part of the great rock'n'roll wallpaper - that is, they're in the background. 

However, AC/DC are a ubiquitous part of the international rock'n'roll landscape. The vinyl LP 'Back in Black' (1980) sold over 50 million copies world-wide. Sure, two years later sales of Michael Jackson's 'Thriller' topped that by over 20 million, but that's neither here nor there. 'Back in Black' is still one of the top selling LPs ever, and it quite clearly influenced more than a shed-load of bands, and AC/DC are still popular. Bigger single LP sales than any single LP by the Stones, The Beatles, Pink Floyd, or Acker Bilk; AC/DC deserve a gallery space at least double the current size of the Vault. Period.

You could say that Jean Jacques Burnel of The Stranglers was a hugely influential bass player. But a few years later, the style and tones of Chris Walsh and Tracy Pew made a significant impact to modern music - mostly overseas. On hearing The Scientists, Mark Arm of Mudhoney coined the phrase “grunge”, a term which took off around the world and formed yet another subgenre.

Perhaps I missed it, because I didn't spot these things in the Vault either. Tina Arena's musical career may have proved more financially successful than the likes of Kim Salmon or Chris Walsh, but I doubt a single person formed a band overseas because they heard one of her songs.

And, hell, the Bee Gees and The Easybeats are worthy of significant displays (as are Ted Albert and Vanda and Young). The late Renee Geyer certainly shouldn't be forgotten, but to treat her as if she bore the same significance as AC/DC or Kylie Minogue is ludicrous. And let's not forget the Chuggs and the Gudinskis of the world. 

Look, if you think I'm being unfair, consider this: I cannot abide Molly Meldrum. Never have. Always found him bogus and somewhat creepy. But I cannot deny that he's an enormously important figure in Australian music. The Vault seems not to show him (for which I confess I was thankful). I notice that the Vault has featured “Countdown” on what I assume was a temporary exhibit - unfortunately, things like “Countdown” and RAM merit a permanent display.

So, there's plenty of scope to improve the joint. Acknowledge that Australian music has gone out and made many significant imprints on the world. 

However, I wonder what an overseas tourist might make of this “vault”'?

Well, again, perhaps I missed something, but Trip Advisor doesn't have a single comment from an overseas visitor. Perhaps because they realise that the exhibit is not representative, and is diverse to the point of diverging from any coherent focus...?

“Another example, Robert!”, is the cry from the back. Okay, then. Here is Rowland S. Howard's guitar, amp and pedals. If you don't know how important and significant this chap's music was on the world stage, nor his approach to things, and why these artefacts are so 'wow'... then I can't convince you. But: with the other exhibits in the display case (some frocks, including a nice white one worn by Olivia Newton-John) his equipment becomes just ... music gear, with a few frocks. 

Certainly, the primordial basses owned by Ian Rilen, Chris Walsh and Jon Archer should be in there - (you'd have the devil of a job finding Tracy Pew's - his mother, Nancy, once told me that he'd simply gone out one day and sold it to 'someone'). 

Alright, alright, I know what you're thinking. 

No, not that. But, yes, critics usually criticise without making useful suggestions.

So here's a few. 

First, the Vault need to get away from the Yarts nonsense. Their website feels like an afterthought, a dag on a much bigger website. It's lost.

Second, get some proper fucking funding, perhaps start by courting folks such as Twiggy Forrest and Gina Rinehart; folks who are heavy hitters and who know the significance of Australian culture. Ensure that the Murdoch family are excluded. Ask some of the bigger artists to cough up; make sure all this is tax deductible and counts as Brownie points toward a public honour. 

An Australian Music Museum needs to happen. Pester MPs and humiliate the government into providing some seed money, and threaten to humiliate the shadow lot by making them look like a pack of pointless greedy philistines (I know, I know ... but...). For examples of how to make the most of a small amount of space, see the People's History Museum in Manchester, the Manchester Science and Industry Museum, or (particularly) the Birmingham Museum & Art Gallery. 

On the displays themselves, surely a couple of long galleries could be worked out. A famous band, their milestones, their music, and the events happening around them at the time, both social and musical. And, a much less well-known band, ditto. 

Why? because the success of every artist (whether we're talking Man Ray, Max Ernst or Salvador Dali, Andy Warhol or Mozart, or Gilbert and Sullivan or Laurel and Hardy) depends not just on talent and determination and intelligence, but luck. And luck has a lot to do with the social context moving around them, and timing - accidental or planned. If you feel like reading a detailed study in this, Mark Lewisohn's last book on The Beatles, makes this concept plain.

Social and historical context is vital to understanding artists; without providing an understanding why a band became popular you may as well be sticking Freddie Mercury's pantsuits alongside Wilko Johnson's guitar, or ... oh, wait...

Second, get a real souvenir shop going, not a window in the “Vault”. Get the more successful bands' products bringing in an income - that would put all the lesser-known bands into perspective as well as help the museum. Sure, the 1972 festival at Sumbugger was important. But, surely, only sad 70-somethings are gonna buy it? 

But I mean, how fantastic it would be to buy decent repro print-on-demand posters of your favourite Australian bands for a fraction of the cost of the originals (often torn and stained)? AC/DC, for a start, but the Hoodoo G's posters have often been fab, as have the Scientists, the Beasts of Bourbon, Radio Birdman, the Saints, the Birthday Party, Laughing Clowns, Split Enz, The Hitmen, as well as the FBKC&K and the list goes on and on ... such things these would be fantastic money-spinners. A percentage of the sale to go to the band, of course. 

Of course, me being me I'd love to have some repros of Bruce Stratford's gig posters from the 1980s - they were usually torn down for display in homes long before the gig. And Hits On Head! Remember them? I'd love a poster. And Speedboat, No Fixed Address ... you know? (For the record, in the Vault I saw one poster, displayed twice, of Speedboat, and one was torn... I hope that wall of posters they have aren't original because they'll be a bugger to take down and conserve... no, I bet they're not repros... )

Ditto - live photographs! Photographs were taken for all manner of publications until the demise of the print media, so there's literally tons of these out there, mostly forgotten the week after publication. We still have a large number of excellent rock photographers in this country who absolutely deserve exhibitions in their own right - in fact, while I'm waving my magic wand, why not a dedicated space given over to an Australian music photography exhibition, perhaps emphasising one particular photographer every two months?

Look, fill up your hallway with framed prints of photos of Farnsey and Barnsey if you must, but how cool would it be to have early Boys Next Door by Ross Waterman on your wall? Ed Kuepper or Dave Graney at the height of their fame? 

Let's not forget print-on-demand Australian music books. And T-shirts - especially repro shirts; some of the old Birthday Party ones would fly out the door. I notice the Vault had some made to advertise itself: no, thanks. Hell, I'd rather wear a Bon Scott Tee. I mean, come on. 

All of this: T-shirts, posters and photos, could surely be achieved with a bit more funding, a dedicated website and an assault on the socials.

I'll leave you with this thought. Delulu is the solulu, but it shouldn't be. And everyone knows it. The solulu is to stop dicking about with stupid TickTockery and goofy slang while we wait for the clock to tell us when to die, and get on with the job of propagating and celebrating the good things about our culture - the popular alongside the popular. 

Yeah, I'll take two Slug posters, and those four photographs, and a Slug fridge magnet and sleep mask. Oh, and the Slug socks. Lovely!

You can visit the Australian Music Vault at 100 St Kilda Rd, Southbank VIC 3004. 

But, if you find yourself agreeing with only half of my ill-informed opinions above, I suggest you take it up with MPs, the PM, and the social media.