MARK RILEY: Anthony Albanese has only himself to blame for explosive ‘Melongate’ debacle

MARK RILEY: Anthony Albanese’s quest to appear cool to the kids and non-conformists has left him looking like a goose.

Headshot of Mark Riley
Mark Riley
The Nightly
Anthony Albanese’s objective in agreeing to do a podcast interview with former television presenter and now self-styled risqué comedian Nikki Osborne was to connect with an audience that would not normally tune in to the political conversation, writes Mark Riley.
Anthony Albanese’s objective in agreeing to do a podcast interview with former television presenter and now self-styled risqué comedian Nikki Osborne was to connect with an audience that would not normally tune in to the political conversation, writes Mark Riley. Credit: Nikki Osborne/YouTube

Anthony Albanese’s objective in agreeing to do a podcast interview with former television presenter and now self-styled risqué comedian Nikki Osborne was to connect with an audience that would not normally tune in to the political conversation.

It was an extension of a strategy he has long employed to broaden his appeal among average Australians.

Many years before he became Prime Minister, Albanese began popping up on off-Broadway FM programs, obscure regional and community radio stations, online blogs and vlogs and other boutique outlets in his quest to become cool among the kids, the non-conformists and the politically disconnected.

Sign up to The Nightly's newsletters.

Get the first look at the digital newspaper, curated daily stories and breaking headlines delivered to your inbox.

Email Us
By continuing you agree to our Terms and Privacy Policy.

It was a way of encouraging those audiences to think of the stuffy world of statecraft as something other than what former US presidential adviser Paul Begala called show business for ugly people — although it is still most certainly that.

And when those people did think of politics, he hoped they might think of him — the quirky guy with the self-deprecating sense of humour who, unlike the other trussed-up turkeys, seemed to be on their wavelength.

The Osborne interview was apparently an extension of that.

But it didn’t make him look cool.

It made him look like a goose.

And not just among the kids and non-conformists.

He made a fool of himself among the mainstream political audience who do take the administration of executive power and the burdensome responsibilities of office seriously.

It wasn’t Osborne’s fault.

It was his.

Doing the interview wasn’t the problem.

What he said and did in it was.

He didn’t have to giggle along in the crass exchange over whether he’d “shag, marry or date” Kylie Minogue. He is a career politician.

He dodges questions for a living. He did it on Thursday at Tomago on this precise issue. He could have simply said he preferred to “respect, admire and celebrate” her.

Now he faces a second phase of outrage over the interview.

Although this one has the feel of a political stitch-up about it.

Albanese insists passionately — and I’m told in private he’s insisting quite angrily — that he was simply doing the Italian thing of talking with his hands in discussing the gift of two crown melons from Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi.

Watching the clip closely it is clear it is Osborne who goes all Carry-On-Up-The-Lodge with the double entendre.

That moment of infantile inanity only attracted a little notice in the first flush of this controversy.

But it was given a whole new life this week when former Japanese ambassador to Australia, Shingo Yamagami, wrote an opinion piece in The Australian accusing the Prime Minister of “betraying the close bond” between the two countries with “a sexist joke”.

Shingo Yamagami is hardly a disinterested third party in all this. And he is certainly no fan of the Albanese Government.

He returned to Tokyo early from his ambassadorship in 2023 after making himself unpopular with the Labor Government through his wolf-warrior rhetoric over China and his close associations with leading figures of the Liberal establishment, including Tony Abbott and Scott Morrison — both of whom he praised in his piece this week.

And while Yamagami might have been aggrieved by what has become known as “Melongate”, we now know that the Japanese Government and Takaichi herself were not.

Seven News revealed official correspondence on Monday night from the Japanese Embassy saying that reporting of the podcast exchange had been “sensationalised” and that it believed Albanese had no “ill intention”.

I also reported that Takaichi had sent a letter to Albanese last week expressing her “heartfelt gratitude” for Australia’s “deep friendship”.

Angus Taylor has called in the Australian Federal Police to out my sources, claiming the disclosure of diplomatic correspondence could be against the law.

I can save the AFP some valuable time. I haven’t revealed a source in 33 years of covering Federal politics and I’m not about to do it now.

Anyway, the Japanese Embassy released a public statement on Wednesday night saying much the same thing — and saying it on the record.

It is hardly a state secret.

But it all goes to show how little things in politics can grow into something much larger. Just as a small seed sprouts into a big melon vine, a clumsy exchange on a smutty podcast can spawn an international incident.

Mark Riley is the Seven Network’s political editor

Comments

Latest Edition

The Nightly cover for 12-08-2026

Latest Edition

Edition Edition 12 August 202612 August 2026

Albanese assures Japan his innuendo-laden melongate podcast appearance was all just a bit of fun.