Finally got a copy of Soft Bomb by seminal Dunedin band The Chills, an album I love dearly but for some reason never owned a hard version of until now. I'd passed up on buying a vinyl copy from Tony at Tootone Records in North East Valley a few years ago, something I regret, especially as because on the day I was strongly considering purchasing it Martin Phillipps walked in, trading in some of his massive vinyl collection to Tony. Would have been the perfect opportunity to get the vinyl signed. Never the less, I didn't want to appear the over zealous fan. If i was in that situation a second time around, I would most definitely not care at all about showing my appreciation to the man who created the music.
Soft Bomb is The Chills' follow up to probably their most highly regarded studio album, 1990's Submarine Bells. Submarine Bells is a classic of Indie Pop, featuring thoughtful and elloquent lyrics, catchy and inventive melodies and classic tracks such as the aptly titled, Heavenly Pop Hit. It's a strong album, but not my favourite Chills album; that honour would go to it's follow up, the slightly more sprawling Soft Bomb. Either that or Kaleidascope World, you can't really go past the early singles for evidence of the magic of the peak of the 'Dunedin Sound', if I am permitted to use that controversial label.
Soft Bomb was the big album that would break The Chills internationally. The Chills were now signed to States label, Slash Records, a subsidiary of Warner and the extra cash of a major label can be heard in the albums slicker production values, compared to earlier Chills albums and to other Flying Nun acts. Many Flying Nun purists possibly don't feel the big studio production benefits the sound of The Chills and Martin Phillipps has told me he himself prefered the demo versions of these tracks to the final versions. I on the other hand love the huge drum sound and crisp, energetic guitars. It's certainly removed from the raw, reverb-smothered vibe of Pink Frost, but Martin Phillipps also wrote great mainstream pop as well as atmospheric, rough post-punk. This is his great, slick pop album.
The songwriting is varied and of an extremely high calibre. Over the course of 17 tracks Phillipps explores many styles; piano ballads (Song For Randy Newman Etc.), brooding blues (Entertainer), dark thumping rock (Background Affair), hooky clever pop (Male Monster From The Id, Double Summer). Male Monster From The Id (check the video out here)is the album opener and also album and career highlight for me. It's simple pop, but the lyrics are great, and the melodies incredibly infectious. Sleeping Giants is a two part epic, with an intro of accordian, piano and a reverby marching band bass drum leading into the energetic, punky second section. In the song he calls on giants to rise up and save people and their culture, influencing them and giving them direction to move forward. Here's a section of the lyrics:
"For it seems all cultures dream
They have a giant who is sleeping
Or a king who will return in times of need
To fight for setting his people free
They teach the kids which fads to follow
So they're unaware tomorrow
When another crippled culture
Dies in the shadow 'neath the corporate vulture"
An inspired lyrical theme, with brilliant melodies to accompany it. I wonder if the corporate vulture line was inspired at all by his experiences being a cog in the big business machine in the States. Sadly I can't link the song to you as it isn't on YouTube, or Spotify. I will upload the song or provide a link when I can. It's a shame that a song as good as this is as difficult to find as it is.
The album also contains several entertaining interludes, Soft Bomb I, II and III and there is no harm in trying and there is no point in trying. These interludes give the album some kind of arch and tie the seperate stories and styles together. A sprawling album in the vein of The White Album or Sandinista! yet held together in a much tighter and more thoughtful way than both those albums. To me, the album is in the same league as those classics.
Third track, Ocean Ocean
A high point of the The Chills career and of New Zealand music in general, it's a real shame that Flying Nun have not done more to get these classics back out there in record stores. The album has not been re-released, is out of production and quite possibly caught up in some copywrite hell due to The Chills being dropped from US label Slash records soon after the release of Soft Bomb. It was by chance I found the second hand CD sitting in the NZ section of Real Groovy in Auckland. If you do find a copy of this album, and it will most likely be on Trademe or Ebay, I assure you that you won't regret the purchase. Martin Phillipps and the pop gift and for a time he was on top of the world. This album is the soundtrack to that time.
Of course what goes up must come down, and although Martin Phillips and The Chills career after Soft Bomb continued, he would not have that level of international influence behind him to realise his visions again. Perhaps he prefers it that way, he can have total control, and doesn't have to be a part of the corperate music world. He still plays excellent gigs occasionally around New Zealand, including a packed one just recently at the Botanical Gardens in Dunedin. I guess all that is another story however, for another blog.
The Chills documentary from 1992
*Here's an interview with Phillipps from 1992, which gives insight into the break up of The Chills as well as the many stresses and difficulties throughout their career. It is a refreshingly frank piece of journalism and includes interviews with previous Chills, who give some of the reasons for why Martin struggled to keep line-ups together. It's a shame the drama following The Chills often overshadowed the brilliant music.
Most people know the story of Sixto Rodriguez by now; a Detroit folk singer who released two critically acclaimed but commercially unsuccessful albums in the early 70s, who disappeared from the music industry for thirty years to work as a labourer and pursue a University education, only to be contacted in the late 90s with the news that he was huge in South Africa. Those South African fans had thought him dead, and when he travelled to the Africaan country to perform some shows soon after, he had know idea the huge crowds and the star treatment that would await him. The documentary however left out the fact that he had a fanbase in Australia and New Zealand and had already toured down under in the late 70s. Never-mind, the documentary tells a good story and is largely responsible for the worldwide resurgance of interest in this once obscure singer-songwriter.
Some of his old fans and many of his new ones turned up last Sunday night to see the man, the enigma, the street boy in person. Rodriguez himself didn't disapoint, offering versions of his classic songs delivered with a voice that sounds like it has not aged at all in the last forty years. Accompanying him were a group of New Zealand session musicians who provided authentic reproductions of the arrangements found on the original albums. Yet perhaps due to the musicians not being completely comfortable with the material, probably having learnt it only days or hours before, or perhaps due to Rodriguez' increasingly frail demeanour, the concert did not explode with a terrible amount of urgency. This could have also been due to a fairly passive crowd, who largely remained seated for all 90 mins of Rodriguez' performance, in spite of yells from many hecklers pleading with the crowd to stand up.
I myself wondered why they didn't stand. As Rodriguez performed classic after classic off his first two albums, such as I Wonder, Only Good for Conversation and Sugarman I could not help but rise and find a position in the aisle where I could dance and sing along. This could be a problem with seated gigs in general; or with concerts that attract a largely middle aged and over demographic. Rodriguez communicated with the crowd between songs by telling jokes, offering humourous wisdom and looked dapper in a black outfit and shades. Age may have taken away much of Rodriguez' sight but none of his style.
While the audience gave a tepid response during songs, they redeemed themselves by expressing their enthusiasm as Rodriguez limped off the stage, helped by his guitarist and some of the road crew. After an extended standing applause, Rodriguez found his way back to the microphone to deliver two more songs. First a cover of Bob Dylan's Like A Rolling Stone, sung probably closer to the album version than Dylan himself will ever peform live and finally I Think Of You off the singer's second studio album. It was a tender finale, and as Rodriguez cautiously made his way off the stage, I was left to wonder how the man's career could have been different if he'd only have the chance to tour like this forty years earlier.
I've been sitting here for a while now trying to think of a topic for a blog. After all it'd be a bit slack not to have written a blog for the entire month of February. I thought about talking about the Oscars but that's already covered, thought about talking about my cat but I'm not entirely sure anyone really wants to read about another person’s pets. That might have to come in a different blog. I may as well make a dagnabbit list of the albums that have most inspired me over the years. It's a list that many an OCD music listener creates in their head over the years and argues with fellow music listeners at parties, work places and other social occasions about. It's a list that's probably irrelevant as music is subjective and who really gives a fuck about what some other dude rates as his favourites. I'm probably also not going to be able to offer you any surprises because my favourite albums are mostly other peoples classics as well (which probably testifies to the strength of them, or my own mainstream tastes). Well anyhow, here's the first of these blogs, focussing on...
The Clash - London Calling
I first got the album summer of 2005, at the time not yet fully a Clash fan. I had previously only had The Essential compilation of Clash singles, album tracks and b-sides and upon receiving some music vouchers for Christmas, headed down to The Warehouse to pick up a stack of CDs. One of these I chose was the deluxe edition of London Calling, an album which had recently had been the subject of retrospective documentaries screened on local music station C4. I guess they were looking for cheap content to fill their schedules, and their screening decision would create at least one new Clash fan.
It didn't take long for me to love London Calling. The week following that Christmas I would listen to the album while reading a book I received on tyrants throughout the ages. For some reason the album seemed the perfect soundtrack, with songs such as "Spanish Bombs" discussing the same exotic locations and violent histories as the book. I still associate the album with that book and that summer, it's interesting how our mind creates such associations. About a week later I would be driving up to Central Otago with my Dad, London Calling blasting in the car. It suddenly clicked and I realised I loved every song on the album. I think I asked my Dad something such as this; "These songs are all so good, but I can't figure out why?" to which he replied; "They're catchy". It was a simple answer but one that continues to resonate with me. It is indeed a freaking catchy album, so perhaps that, combined with the large variation of styles (reggae, rockabilly, jazz, pop etc), the inspired lyrical content and the great musicianship on display is what makes it such a good album.
The stories of the recording of the album are well documented, with Guy Stevens causing havoc, being a drunken bastard and probably creating the atmosphere that allowed The Clash to really let rip, something they were denied with the recording of Give 'Em Enough Rope. The recording of the album also coincided with the emergence of the full potential of the bands talents. Mick Jones' composition and arrangement skills are suddenly head and shoulders above what had previously been pressed to vinyl, just listen to "The Card Cheat" for evidence of this. Joe Strummers lyrics have gone global, hinting at what would come on Sandinista!, with politics ("Spanish Bombs"), the Armageddon ("London Calling"), drug dealers ("Hateful"), Montgomery Clift ("The Right Profile"), factory work ("Clampdown") and more being the subject of his witty punk lyricism. Jones also provides varying lyrical content on the tracks he sings, discussing the break-up of his then girlfriend Viv Albertine in "Train In Vain" (Mick Jones would catch the train to visit his girlfriend yet would often leave disappointed and unsatisfied, hence 'Train In Vain') and also "I'm Not Down" as well as the anthem for alienation in our capitalist culture "Lost in the Supermarket". Paul Simonon's bass playing is getting stronger and catchier and the album holds his first song writing credit and the first track with Simonon on vocals, the classic "Guns Of Brixton". Finally Topper Headon, the best drummer The Clash ever had and possibly one of the greatest rock drummers of all time is allowed to fully let rip, showing off all the r&b, jazz, blues, reggae and rock chops that the man is capable of.
It's a double album yet doesn't have a single weak track on it, which one cannot say for many other double albums (although for today’s standards it’s about the length of one full 80 min CD). The Clash would follow this album up just a year later with the triple album Sandinista! which on the other hand does have a fair amount of filler within its sleeves, yet is an album that I hold just as dare to me, perhaps even more so than London Calling, due to the share 'who-gives-a-fuck' experimentation of it all and the continued ability of the band to write really catchy songs. Combat Rock in 1982 would be the bands last studio album with this line-up, and then that's just about it for the history of the best band to come out of the 70s UK punk scene. Better to burn out than to fade away I guess.
Probably the greatest Rock n Roll album of all time, recorded by 'the only band that matters'. Joe Strummer, Topper Headon, Mick Jones and Paul Simonon created in 1979 an album that many continue to bash 34 years later. I've been bashing it now for 8 years and I predict many more will follow.
So it has taken me a few days of recovery and reflection to put pen to paper and write my thoughts up on Laneway 2013 and I will start by posting the Japandroids setlist:
Brian King (guitarist/vocalist) handed the setlist down to me at the end of the Japandroids set. It's a cool peice of memorabilia and one of many great moments of an awesome day, one that was for me a big improvement on Laneway 2012 (probably because the bands were better).
The day started off with Kings of Convenience on the main stage, the Norwegian indie pop folk-duo beginning softly with several acoustic numbers before bringing out a band and bringing the funk. I'd not listened to much of these guys before the concert so wasn't prepared for just how funky it would get and certainly wasn't expecting the dance-off that emerged during I'd Rather Dance With You. Prompted by lead singer Erlend Øye, the crowd formed a circle at which enthusiastic audience members jumped in to display their dancing chops. Sadly there's no videos of this yet uploaded to YouTube, but here's a live rendition from the Singapore Laneway.
Kings Of Convenience bring the funk
Later on at the Laneway after party at Cassette 9, I would find myself dancing with Erlend Øye and a bunch of Australian girls, practically and unknowingly acting out the lyrics to the above song, in a strange life-imitating-art kind of moment. I'll definitely be listening to more Kings of Convenience in the future, as their energy, humour and melodic songwriting won me over.
Street Chant
After Kings of Convenience I stayed at the main stage to watch Auckland group Street Chant who brought the punk and the angst, with front woman Emily seeming in a particularly sardonic mood. They handed out self-brewed 'Sink' beers to the crowd during the performance of that song and also Street Chant badges so points for the merchandise. There were a few technical difficulties however, such as Emily's effects pedal cutting out during Salad Days although she managed to get it up and running with minimal damage to the performance. I think their set was cut short due to Kings of Convenience playing over time and Emily seemed visibly irritated, at one stage throwing the F-bomb at that band and the Laneway organisers. I guess that kind of attitude is part of Street Chant's style, although it seemed at odds with the spirit of the rest of the day.
Polica was up next on the main stage, the band from Minneapolis bringing bass heavy electronic sounds and delicate melodies sung by from woman Channy Leaneagh aided by a powerful rhythm section featuring two drummers, one also triggering electronic samples. It sounded huge though I took the time to go for a wander and explore the rest of the Laneway environment, checking out a bit of Auckland indie-group The Eversons on the smaller Cactus Cat stage. I would next stand in front of Cloud Nothings who delivered a set of loud, aggressive but skillful tracks off their third album, Attack On Memory. The set peaked during a version of Wasted Years which showed off the drummers skill of being able to hold a fill for about 6 minutes.
The afternoon sped by as I rushed between stages catching The Men (from Brooklyn), some of Of Monsters and Men and A Place to Bury Strangers. The Men were my personal favourite of the bunch, playing many tracks of their awesome album from last year Open Your Heart as well as new single Electric. Their new songs sound really good and I'm looking forward to hearing what comes next from these uber-cool New York rockers.They ended their set with a surprise cover of Dunedin band The Chills' Pink Frost:
The Men cover The Chills
Of Monsters and Men drew one of the biggest crowds of the day, and played a tight and entertaining set, with lead singer Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir looking particularly cute. Although I was enjoying the set I didn't stick around to hear the big single Little Talks as A Place to Bury Strangers were playing on the other stage and I wanted to check out whether this band would be as loud live as the buzz suggested. They indeed were, with the finale of the set seeing lead singer/songwriter Oliver Ackermann turn the monitor speakers around to face the audience, taking the vocal mic and placing it up against his guitar amp (both of which had separate effects running through each of them) and then generating feedback from his guitar creating a noise so loud that I felt sorry for anyone not wearing earplugs. Ackermann and bassist Dion Lunadon formerly of The D4 then proceeded to smash their instruments in true reckless rock n roll style. I later asked Ackermann after running into him at the merch tent how they can afford to smash their instruments every gig. He told me: "Glue and tape". (Watch the video below)
A Place To Bury Strangers set finale destruction
Back on the main stage Alt-J had accumulated a huge and increasingly intoxicated crowd for their intricate and groovy art-rock. With label money behind them they were the first band on the main stage to bring a giant backdrop with them (the only other artist to bring a backdrop and have any kind of stage design being Bat For Lashes), and had a bit more lighting then several of the other bands including some strobing. They had a very enthusiastic crowd response as I expected with much of the audience knowing the lyrics to all their songs. Their sole album has had a lot of hype behind it so this isn't surprising, and the band sounded great live, nailing all the vocal harmonies and trick rhythms. The drummer in particular stood out to me, showing a flair for different percussion than the usual cymbals and toms combination. The music sounded pretty much exactly as the album, which was a good thing but they didn't particularly bring anything more to live performance and therefore wasn't the most exciting act of the day.
Crowd surf during Japandroids
Japandroids on the Cactus Cat stage provided everything that Alt-J didn't. They brought excitement, looseness and the most energy yet seen during a Laneway set that day, inspiring the audience to mosh, crowd surf and sing along to their upbeat anthems about holding on to your youthful dreams in spite and because of the inevitable responsibilities that come with aging. Or in other words, their music makes it cool for a bunch of twenty and thirty year olds to rock out as if they're still seventeen. Their set was full of classics from the Post-Nothing and Celebration Rock albums, with the highlights for me being Younger Us, The House That Heaven Built and Young Hearts Spark Fire. Although there were a few technical difficulties with Bring King's guitar cutting out during Fire's Highway and drummer David Prowse missing some queues, it didn't matter, the energy was there and it if anything hyped the crowd up even more.
Brian King mid-air
Although the moshpit was energetic, it was never agressive as-per a metal concert, for Japandroids inspire some sort of comradery between us concert goers, where we can thrash about and loose ourselves within the fight of a moshpit while at the same time looking out for one another. Anyone that fell over or tumbled during a crowd-surf was immediately helped back up to their feet, ready to join the mosh again. I managed to get my crowd surf on and it may have looked something like the guy in the photo to the left (who I later met at the Cassette 9 after party) and this for sure provided a highlight of my day. As mentioned earlier I got the setlist of Brian King after the show and thanked him for an awesome performance.
Things get a little blurrier and I spend a little more time in the drinks lines over the next few hours but that is by no means the end of the festivities. I check out a little bit of Bailterspace on the main stage, which is cool but Jessie Ware is playing back over on the stage near the Silo's so I quickly mission over to check her out. One of the only problems with Laneway (apart from the congestion in the drinks lines which was probably worse this year than last year) is that the second stage over by the Silo where Japandroids, The Men and Jessie Ware played is not really big enough and this was particularly evident during Ware's set. She is a charismatic performer with a great voice and obviously had a lot of fans because her audience was crowded. She would have been much better suited on the main stage, or on a slightly bigger second stage as it didn't really allow her much space to perform. Never the less her set was great, filled with classic tracks off her debut album such as Sweet Talk, No To Love and If You're Never Gonna Move. Wildest Moments and Running provided great singalong moments and hopefully she'll be back on a bigger stage, with more recognition in a few years time.
Natasha Khan
Yeasayer took the main stage next and although I spent most of their set in the drinks line (the infernal drinks line), they sounded good, in particular singles off their second album O.N.E. and Ambling Amp. With drinks now in hand I made my way into the crowd for Bat For Lashes, and got up front just in time for her to start her first New Zealand and somewhat awe-inspiring set. Flanked with a really talented band, a giant backdrop image of a grey scale beach and a stage decorated with lanterns, Natasha Khan launched into a set featuring tracks from all three of her albums and hypnotically dominated the stage for 45 minutes. It's a shame she didn't have more time because her voice sounded amazing and proved her self a truely great live performer. I was particularly a fan of the tracks off the new album The Haunted Man which included All Your Gold, Laura and Oh Yeah. The favourite tracks of the set for me were Lillies (because damn that has a heavy beat) and Marilyn which felt even more touching and dramatic live than on album. The drummer was particularly impressive, bouncing between electronic pads and his acoustic set playing many beats simultaneously that would usually be left for samples. It's a set like this that makes me appreciate Laneway because I probably never would have seen Bat For Lashes live or even listened to the new album if she hadn't toured to New Zealand through this festival and I definitely would have missed out on something great. I suggest you check out the new album if you haven't, it deserves more attention than it has recieved.
Bat For Lashes ended too soon with final track and crowd favourite Daniel. I then made my way over to the next stage for headliner Tame Impala, who I and many more people in the crowd had been looking forward to all summer. Totally destroying last year's headliners Gotye, Kevin Parker and company proved rock not to be dead in 2013 opening with Solitude is Bliss off Innerspeaker and then jamming their way through tracks off last years Lonerism with such ease as to make all that skill look rediculously easy. Most songs were extended in true late 60s/early 70s style and at one point during Elephant the band completely abandoned the song for a drum solo, then some barely musical fucking around, then a brief reggae jam, just to return to Elephant for roughly 10 seconds before ending the song. Apart from being hilarious it was also one of the most memorable moments of the day and was so awesome to see a band not giving a fuck and JUST HAVING FUN. The crowd was a bit shit, and only a few of us were jumping around as much as I would have liked but perhaps most people were by this stage exausted from the heat or the alcohol. Regardless I feel that Tame Impala is going to be a band I see live many times and hopefully so, because they're doing something with rock that feels both fresh, familiar and really unique. I have a feeling that their live shows will get even more jammy as the years progess.
Elephant, from Singapore again, but an awesome live version
Laneway 2013 ends, and I head off into the unknown of the night, finding my way to the after party at Cassette 9 where I meet Kevin Parker from Tame Impala, who turns out is also a really nice guy! I also watch Rackets play, who are always good and listen to a DJ set from A Place To Bury Strangers. By three in morning, I'm about ready to pack it in, after have a chaotic and action packed day and seeing some really really great bands live. I have to therefore say that Laneway out did themselves this year and I will most definitely be making my way to 2014 provided I'm in Auckland. I could gripe at this stage about the things Laneway could improve on; the long drinks lines, the fact that standing on concrete all day is a bit of a bitch and that there isn't much shade the protect you from the glaring rays of the sun, but I will have to save that for another blog because all and all it was a fantastic day.
Crystal Castles came to The Studio in Auckland last night, bringing their unique brand of electro/goth/punk and managed to make the night feel simultaneously like a party and the end of the world (probably an end brought on by man's self-destructive ways). Or to be not so abstract, it was an intense and intimate show, with Alice Glass and Ethan Hall putting in their all for the modest Auckland crowd.
Tensions mounted before the band took the stage as an eclectic crowd quickly filled up the small space in front of The Studio's stage. The entirety of Joy Division's album closer was played through the P.A. speakers leading up to the band's arrival, which I personally felt was a perfect album to accompany what was to come. I love this album and Crystal Castles' dark goth rave fits perfectly with the depressing but hypnotic art-rock of Joy Division. I'm not sure everyone around me felt quite the same way, as there were restless yells after each song, with one group even starting a chant out "We've got work". Apparently an Auckland crowd's not to animated on a Tuesday night.
That was until of course, Crystal Castles took the stage.
Opening with 'Plague', the crowd immediately erupted into a surge of activity with Ethan's synths set to 11, accompanied by Alice's violent, piercing, unmistakable screams. I personally love this track and let the surge of the crowd take me into the thick of the mosh, where I stayed for the rest of the set. The wall of sound was accompanied by a live drummer, adding an human feel to the processed drums and rows of lights which filled the stage. Initially the lights were used minimally, with only flashes of blue being
used at times as Ethan, Alice and their live drummer stood nearly in
darkness on the club stage. Gradually more lights were introduced until the stage became cloaked in strobing white light.
The intensity did not let up as they launched into 'Baptism' and 'Suffocation' off the 2nd album. 'Wrath of God' provided a moment to cool down before the band launched into what was unsurprisingly a highlight of the set, 'Crimewave'. 'Crimewave' saw the crowd engage in the most prolonged period of pogo-ing, and also in the most enthusiastic sing along of the night. Alice disappeared onto the floor of the stage during this section and didn't reappear until what I think was 'Alice Practice', another highlight, with it's particularly aggressive beat spurring the crowd on to mosh some more.
The moments that Alice threw herself into the crowd were highlights, with fans scrambling to get a touch of Alice in the flesh. On one occasion she caused the entire crowd to collapse, the entire pit swaying to the right side of the stage where she stood precariously on top of a multitude of hands. This did not stop her from returning into the crowd a few songs later, which at thing point I was very near the front of the stage so had the pleasure of helping to hold her up on top on the crowd. Her energy as a frontwoman and efforts at interacting with the audience in moments like this rivals other great front people I've seen live, such as Peaches and Iggy Pop.
Their cover of 'Not In Love' ended the initial set and at this stage I was sweaty, exhausted but satisfied. After a brief break the band returned for their encore, three more songs beginning with 'Intimate' from II and 'Sad Eyes' from III. I hung in there till the end, although the jumping around on my end had stopped a few songs back. Last song of the night, the epic 'Yes No' from the first album gave us one last aggressive blast to savour and I managed to muster the energy to thrash around for another few minutes. Alice descended upon the crowd one last time, the crowd managing to keep her stable this time. She swung her microphone into the crowd upon finishing the songs vocals, and although I'm not entirely sure but something very hard hit me in the side of the head just after that moment, which I'm guessing was the microphone. I have a jagged red bruise in that spot to prove it.
The band left the stage over a wall of feedback and noise. The crowd was still amped and crowd surfing continued after the music was gone and the stage was bare. Which probably means it was a really good gig.
It seemed a big generous set as more than often bands seem to give in New Zealand,
even in the small club venues. Perhaps
they were putting in their all after their last show here at the Big Day
Out 2011, which was hampered by sound issues and Alice's leg in a cast
limiting here performance. Or perhaps they were just riffing off the
crowds intensity (or at least it felt intense from where I was). Probably though, they're just a really great live band.
Even though Auckland has a huge gap in it's festival calender now that the Big Day Out has left us, sideshows such as this from BDO artists do more than a little to fill the space until that festival or something equivalent returns.
Now bring on Laneway.
Setlist:
Plague
Baptism
Suffocation
Wrath Of God
Doe Deer
Crimewave
Pale Flesh
Alice Practice
Reckless
Celestica
Empathy
Vanished
Black Panther
Not In Love
Kiwi ex-pat Ruban Neilson, previously of The Mint Chicks brought his latest Portland-based project to Auckland last night, playing Cassette 9 ahead of their opening slot for Weezer tonight. The band has been accumulating a large and dedicated fanbase, winning over the indie press with Pitchfork giving them a hype worthy 8.1 review for the debut self-titled album. They've been selling out shows all around the world and playing festivals from CMJ in NY to the Pitchfork Festival in Chicago. In my opinion the hype and success is worth it, as Neilson and company demonstrated last night, with their set of psychedelic grooves and melodies, tight and impressive musicianship and above all, great songwriting.
The queue
The night began with a 40 minute wait in the Cassette 9 line, as the venue was nearing capacity as early as 10pm. After waiting for the many guest list attendees to arrive the staff finally let in some of the regular punters waiting in line into the venue, and I managed to be one of those lucky few. Many of those in the sprawling line went home disappointed, as the modest-sized bar was not able to accommodate all those interested in the band. I managed to make it inside in time to see Auckland duo Golden Axe tear through a brief set of distorted, analogue, punky dance tunes. With the nimble keyboard fingers and characteristic wigs and gas mask microphones, Axe proved a highly entertaining beginning to the night. The tightness gained from the hours of international touring they've been racking up lately was apparent, although in all fairness this was the first time I'd seen them live so perhaps they've always been that tight. Next up was all female three-peice Las Tetas. They're agressive, minor-key indie rock was a change in tone from Golden Axe but they won over the audience, ending with a thrashy cover of The Stooges 'I Wanna Be Your Dog'. I approved.
Golden Axe
Unknown Mortal Orchestra finally took the stage at around 12.30, giving one last soundcheck before opening with an extended period of noise; strumming chords, rumbling bass and the drummer going nuts on double struck rolls all over the kit building tension, which would then release as the groove to 'Little Blu House' is introduced. The noise intro gave an opportunity to appreciate just what skilled musicians Ruban has gathered, especially the drummer whose skilled chops were immediately apparent. First song Little Blu House, a favourite of mine off the debut sounded great, although it took the sound guy a verse or two to get the vocal mix right. These are obviously three very skilled musicians, as they control the audience with ease, not by applying any forced live theatrics but rather by playing the songs with confidence and obvious enthusiasm. Ruban plays his guitar initially with the strap slung over one shoulder, and the body held high up to his chest like a gun. The melodies are ripped out from his fingers with so little effort he makes it look easy, betraying the years and years of touring and recording that have got him to this stage.
The beginning of the set is dominated by tracks from the debut, peaking with 'How Can U Luv Me' (which is also probably the debut's centrepiece). The crowd at this stage is going nuts and a mosh pit breaks out, of which I happen to be caught on the peripheral of, and the aggression of a drunk few seems slightly out of place given the chilled out vibe. Perhaps that handful thought they were at a Mint Chicks gig. After 'How Can U Luv Me' the band begin Pink Floyd/Barrett cover 'Lucifer Sam', of which I'm highly pleased to hear although sadly the band cut it off after only a few bars. Ruban tells the crowd "And it was going so well.." I'm unsure why they stopped the song, perhaps Ruban's guitar was out of tune. Only having a tease of Lucifer Sam was a slight disappointment but they coped with the technical stuff up in a professional way, by launching into an entirely new song. It's always a little awkward when bands have to restart a number.
UMO
The next two songs are off the new album, 'Monki' and 'So Good At Being In Trouble' both of which contained strong grooves and melodies, a hint that the new album was to be just as strong as the debut. After this crowd favourite 'Ffunny Ffriends' is launched, with Ruban encouraging everyone in the crowd to clap, including "the cool people in the back". The clapping dies off after the first chorus after which Ruban states he didn't ask anyone to stop and the clapping starts up again. My attempt at clapping for the entire song is interrupted by another moshpit and I decide joining is the better option than getting stoically shoved around so I pogo'd my way to the front of the stage. New single 'Swim Like A Shark' is then played, before the show ends with a thrashy and epic rendition of 'Boy Witch'. I hang around hoping for an encore though this was not to be, perhaps due to the fact that it was past 2am, or maybe this is the practice at Cassette 9.
Never-the-less it was a great set, even with the abandonment of 'Lucifer Sam' and the at times overly excitable crowd. I felt privileged to see the band before they embark on sold out European shows in such an intimate setting and all for only $10! It's good to see The Mint Chicks boys have success in their current projects, as both are extremely gifted musicians and songwriters and Ruban Neilson certainly deserves all the success that is now coming to him. With the new album released for download to those who pre-ordered it today, it is sure to be another big year for UMO and hopefully we will see them on our shores again soon.
Continuing from the last blog here's a few more notable things that occurred during 2012 which characterised my year.
Seeing bands live
I saw the following artists live in 2012;
(Big Day Out) Soundgarden, Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds, Kimbra, Cavalera Conspiracy, Mariachi El Bronx, Girl Talk, Kasabian, (Laneway) M83, SBTRKT, Opossum, Gotye, (Gigs)
Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Em' All, The Dresdan Dolls, Roger Waters
(Twice), Roots Manuva, Die Antwoord, Skrillex, Porter Robinson, Enter
Shikari, Robyn, Flight Of The Conchords, Earth, John Baizley, Scott
Kelly, Morrissey
I moved from Dunedin to Auckland this
year and being in New Zealand's only 'supercity' gave me the opportunity
to see much more bands than I have previously had the opportunity to
see. Of the bands Morrissey was a definite highlight, as his performance
coincided with the peak of my interest in The Smiths and Morrisey's
solo catalogue. Roger Waters was also particularly epic, and I wrote a
blog earlier on my experiences regarding The Wall as seeing it live,
check it out here: http://hamish-and-film.blogspot.co.nz/2012/09/reminiscing-about-wall.html.
Morrissey (though from the Wellington show)
Last
years Big Day Out was the smallest of the five I attended yet still
managed to have a couple of pretty memorable sets, Noel Gallagher,
Cavalera Conspiracy and Kimbra in particular. M83 stole Laneway 2012 for
me, although SBTRKT had a surprisingly energetic live act as well.
Seeing Odd Future live at the height of their Internet fuelled hype was
definitely a lucky occasion and although I didn't really know their
music bar a few tracks, it was particularly entertaining just for being
smack bang in the sweatiest rap moshpit I've ever witnessed. Enter
Shikari also had an incredibly sweaty and energetic audience, being an
all ages gig it was filled with teens and young Uni students, and
although I felt my age the band I had a good time never the less. The
sweat from the audience caused the band's gear to malfunction and at one
stage the barrier separating the audience and the band collapsed, yet
the band played through these technical difficulties and proved
themselves worthy of their loyal fanbase.
2013 proves
to be equally promising gig-wise, with a great Laneway lineup (Tame
Impala, Bat For Lashes, Japandroids), plus Black Sabbath and rumours
Blur will tour down here. Already promising and the year hasn't even
began!
Listened to some Films, Watched some Albums
Typically,
I spent a lot of the year watching films and listening to albums. These
films stood out to me as the most enjoyable cinematic experiences of
2012:
Beasts of the Southern Wild
Looper
Moonrise Kingdom
Safety Not Gauranteed
The Dark Knight Rises The Most Fun You Can Have Dying
Honourable
mention must go to West of Memphis, the documentary on the West Memphis
Three, which was aided by a Q & A featuring Peter Jackson and
Damien Echols (my blog on this here: west-of-memphis). A good moment from Pete considering what a travesty of blockbuster filmmaking The Hobbit turned out to be.
I didn't seem to spend much time listening to new music in 2012 but here's a few albums that I particularly enjoyed in 2012:
Baroness - Yellow & Green Tame Impala - Lonerism Kanye West present G.O.O.D. Music - Cruel Summer Japandroids - Celebration Rock
Kanye
West's G.O.O.D. Music compilation copped a bit of flack but the beats
were great, and there was enough variation and experimentation for it to
hold up to repeat listens. Plus it had some of the best anthems of
year, in the form of Clique and Mercy in particular. I spent most of the
year however listening to albums that weren't released in 2012 so if I
was to list favourite albums by what I actually listened to, I'd have to
include albums such as The Smiths - Louder Than Bombs which got a lot
of plays and also Blur - Parklife. Probably older favourites such as
Sandinsta! as well which I fell further in love with earlier in the
year. It's the album that keeps on giving!
2012 is now officially over and 2013 has begun. To bring in the new
year I will think back on several notable things that categorised the
year for me.
Yauch and company during the recording of Paul's Boutique
One
of the three Beastie Boys - punk, rapper, activist, filmmaker, all
around good-guy, MCA or Adam Yauch passed away in May 4th of last year.
The group that he lead with Adam Horivitz and Mike Diamond had a huge
effect on me during my early teen years and my passion for the group
endures up until this day. Adam Yauch was diagnosed with cancer
mid-2009, just as the band was about to release their eighth studio
album and his death at the way too young age of 47 has robbed culture of
a true hero.
Yauch
formed the Beastie Boys at age 17 with John Berry, Kate Schellenbach
and Michael Diamond. They found their start playing hardcore punk in the
clubs of NYC but would soon adopt the emerging sounds of hiphop. Adam
Horovitz joined and Kate Schellenbach would leave, and the core three of
MCA, Ad-Rock and MCA gradually built a back catalogue of classic albums
(Licensed to Ill, Paul's Boutique, Check Your Head, Ill Communication, Hello Nasty),
proving that three white boys from NYC can rap just as well as their
fellow black artists. In the 90s they re-incorporated live
instrumentation back into their sound with MCA's phat basslines
providing some of the most memorable hooks (Gratitude, Sabotage etc).
Yauch
became passionate about the plight of the Tibetan in the 90s and
organised several charity concerts (Tibetan Freedom Concert 1996 - 1999,
2001, 2003) raising money and generating much awareness for the
problems facing the Tibetan people. After directing the bands' music
videos through-out their career he moved into feature film making in the
00s with the live concert film Awesome; I Fuckin' Shot That! (2006) and the basketball documentary Gunnin' for That No. 1 Spot (2008).
It
was through Yauch and his subsequent creative projects that I found a
great deal of inspiration during my formative years. From the very first
time I was introduced to the Beastie Boys video the Intergalactic video
directed by Yauch, which debuted on Top Of The Pops mid-1998, I was
hooked. Their humour, heart, fat fucking beats and mean rhymes (from
middle age white dudes!) won me over, a large amount of all these
elements contributed by Yauch, and they subsequently became my favourite
band through my young adult years to today.
As I delved
further into their back catalogue, from the age of 11 onwards, I
discovered true musical and artistic heroes, through the uncompromising
way in which they tore genre conventions apart, the no bullshit approach
they had to getting their vision out there and the way they weren't
afraid to change, to move from frat boy party rap antics to politically
aware concious rap. And of course, they created albums which remain my
favourites to this day, Paul's Boutique, Hello Nasty, Licensed to Ill, Check Your Head, To The Five Buroughs, Hot Sauce Committe Part 2. For
a band that was around thirty years, to have so little dud albums in
their back catalogue and so many classics is something rare indeed.
I
learnt to rap because of Yauch and his crew, found a musical role model
and was constantly inspired by his humour and creativity. Loosing one
of my main heroes is certainly a mixed thing and I have no doubt in my
mind that MCA had many years ahead of him. What creative projects he
would have embarked on we'll never know. Never the less, this is the
journey that life had in store for him and it certainly wasn't a life
wasted.
Rockumentaries can be either gripping, vital cinematic portrayals of bands, concerts and music topics we love or they can blatantly exist to suck a little more money out of a loyal fan base. Lately it seems like Rockumentaries are predominantly for record companies to sell more merchandise, keep the product alive, make more $$$, such as Shihad's Beautiful Machine, Katy Perry's Part of Me or The Rolling Stones Crossfire Hurricane. Maybe I'm being a little unfair to Kiwi heroes Shihad, and I have not yet seen The Rolling Stones Crossfire Hurricane but anyone familiar with the history of the Rock Documentary form will know that these, at the very least stylistically, hold nothing on classic Rockumentaries such as Gimme Shelter (also The R'Stones), The Last Waltz (The Band) or Woodstock. Here I will discuss some recent Rock documentaries that do it well, some that don't and some older classics that perhaps set the bar and for me still feel very fresh.
Two documentaries released in the last decade on the subject of bands I love, Westway to the World and Joy Division - A Documentary capture successfully the bands essence and put it on celluloid, while telling their story in a way that avoids being purely a cash in. Joy Division - A Documentary, through candid interviews presented an honest view of the bands brief career as well as events surrounding the tragedy leading to the death of singer Ian Curtis. It did not glamorise his suicide as perhaps the fictional cinematic version of the story, Anton Corbijn's Control did so. Although I shouldn't rubbish Corbijn's film, it was also a gripped, well acted and beautifully shot telling of the Joy Division story, if a little biased towards his wife's point of view, being that was the source material. Joy Division - A Documentary focused equally on the bands sound, not just on the tale of Ian Curtis. The effect of the industrial, desolate and grim surroundings of Manchester on the sound of the band is a theme running throughout the film, one that helps provide an understanding of the music of the band beyond Curtis' obsessions and tragic lyrics.
Westway to the World does justice to the story of The Clash, a band with such energy and such a lucky combination of talents. It also shows how those talents can equally be taken for granted within a group and how success can disintegrate a band from the inside. Such quotes as this from Joe Strummer are truly touching and have stuck with me:
"Whatever a group is it was the chemical mixture of those four people that makes a group work. That's a lesson everyone should learn, "Don't mess with it!" If it works just let it... Do whatever you have to do to bring it forward but don't mess with it. And like, we learnt that... bitterly." (Joe Strummer)
Hindsight is indeed a great thing. Westway to the World to me is a well researched and executed modern rockumentary; it doesn't do anything groundbreaking in terms of style but it is fair and does justice to the legacy of the band. Part of this is perhaps due to the direction of Don Letts, who followed The Clash through their career, first as an influential British DJ, then as their video maker and producer and later collaborator and bassist with Mick Jones in Big Audio Dynamite. Yet since the release of Westway to the World we've had another bunch of Clash related documentaries and DVD releases, all of these going further down the path towards cash-ins, such as the compilation of mostly already released live performances - Revolution Rock. Again directed by Don Letts, its another notch to the bands legacy and will no doubt be picked up by every old fan and some new ones in the process. It will probably even gift the surviving members with a bit more towards the retirement fund.
I haven't viewed modern pop Rockumentaies such as Katy Perry's Part of Me or Justin Bieber's Never Say Never, so I can't comment on whether or not this fits into my deduction that Rock documentaries of the 21st century lean more towards cash-grab efforts then artistic statements. Rotten Tomatoes tells me Never Say Never is "As a tour documentary...rather uninspired -- but as a 3D glimpse of a building pop culture phenomenon, Never Say Never is undeniably entertaining". It's of its time at least. But from what I've seen of these documentaries, trailers, glimpses of them here and there-they are far from a honest portrayal of the artist. They instead present a view of the artist as that of one in which they can do no wrong, where the shit on the sole of their shoe is turned to gold by being in the very present of this God on earth.
What I wish is that we were still making Rock documentaries like they were making them in the 60s and 70s. Influenced and part of the Direct Cinema and Cinema Verite movements, documentaries such as Albert Maysles’ Gimme Shelter managed to be self-aware statements on the nature of stardom, the documentary medium itself and cultural changes at the time. Another Rolling Stones documentary, Sympathy for the Devil under the helm of French New Wave innovator Jean-Luc Godard managed to mix his idiosyncratic style with that of a fly-on-the-wall observationale style of documentary filmmaking. Or even The Beatles rarely seen (lately) final film Let It Be, which provides a warts and all glimpse at a brink of destruction. These documentaries, perhaps due to their style or the time they were made were not afraid to show the artists for what they really are. Gimme Shelter particularly grabbed my attention, due to scenes where Mick Jaggar and the other stones are filmed as they watch their own interview and live footage. This kind of documentary style is mind boggling given the vapid, contrived tripe we're supposed to accept as a 'documentary' in this day and age. It's amazing the Stones even allowed the film to be released given the way the filmmakers really pry into the emotions of Jaggar and company, laughing at their own jokes, appearing self-conscious upon hearing interview question answers and finally viewing the death of a concert goers at the hands of one of their hired Hell's Angels security persons at the disaster of a free concert that was the 1969 San Francisco Altamont raceway event.
I should probably write more about Gimme Shelter rather than discussing these other documentaries, but it seems so much has already been written on it. The direct cinema style: the unobtrusive camera work, rough soundtrack, refusal of voice over narrator, are chosen by the filmmakers in their pursuit of truth on celluloid through the documentary medium. Gimme Shelter aims it's camera's eye directly at the band, Jaggar in particular, and shows him coming to terms, or perhaps not coming to terms with the consequences of what they created at the Altamont raceway. It is all fascinating filmmaking, not least for the scene in presents of the flip side to Woodstock, peace and love turned to chaos and death, a decade of dreams coming to a frightful end within this concert setting, as the reality of hate hits down hard on naive hippy concert goers. The people that are hired to keep the peace, the Hell's Angels, prove that violence and anger boiling under the surface is stronger than the intended love of the event.
The Rolling Stones are shown to be responsible for this particular event, even if the complexities of that particular time of cultural change were equally responsible. It is from this train of thought that I come to think about the career of The 'Stones, which perhaps started off this whole recent interest in Rockumentaries when the hype from their current 50th anniversary tour led me to get back into their music and subsequently led me to watch Gimme Shelter. The 'Stones are a very visually documented band and have a lot of different documentary styles under their belt. There are the straight up concert films, such as 1982's Let's Spend the Night Together and the recent mix of concert, staged footage and archival material 2007's Shine-A-Light as well as the earlier more artistic efforts I previously described. It doesn't end here though, this year sees the release of Crossfire Hurricane, a tale of the groups rise to fame, and no doubt it's history and legacy. As well as this, the final concert from their 50th anniversary tour will be broadcast live, pay-per-view over the Internet, direct from the arena in New Jersey. The fans are there, and there's no stopping money and media Juggernaut that is The Rolling Stones from rolling on into it's 6th decade. Will the new documentary or concert be relevant? I don't know, there is a part of me that wants to celebrate watching late 60s and 70 year old's still perform and I will most likely watch both for completions sake, but whether they're necessary or not is another question entirely.
Perhaps I digressed from my original topic of Rockumentaries but it seemed fair to get caught up in The Rolling Stones for a little bit, seeing as how important they have been to the Rock documentary format, at the very least. What I would like to highlight, if I have not done so already, is just how awesome, thought-provoking and multi-layered documentaries such as Gimme Shelter are compared to those being released recently. Perhaps there are rock documentaries out there like this being made and released today, but I assume that if they are, they are being released in the digital space. Innovators perhaps are left to create interesting material for free on YouTube because mainstream releases are dominated by the cash-grab, seen-one-you've-seen-them-all, famous-artist-can-do-no-wrong style of the Bieber or Perry documentaries.
Maybe I'm missed something though, maybe there's more to the Bieber, Perry or even the latest 'Stones' documentary then I know. If you've seen them feel free to comment and let me know.
Other questions that interest me on this same topic;
What are some of the best Rock documentaries released recently?
Are there any similiar in nature, tone or style to classics such as Gimme Shelter?
Is there more to the Bieber and Perry cash-in style documentaries then I give credit for; are these just as, or perhaps even more worth discussing as any classic Rock documentary?
Is anyone going to pay-per-view The Rolling Stones show in New Jersey?
Three dudes, all swapping instruments, creating catchy as punk in a completely unpretentious way. The awesome thing about a band like this is you can rip through an entire album of theirs in a short amount of time, cause each track is like a minute long. They're fucking great live, tearing shit up every time. Most recent EP is great, but I also suggest checking out the early stuff, which is equally good. They're hardworking, passionate and greatly deserving of a listen.
Wild punk chicks (and one dude) who really don't give a fuck and also craft great, hooky, energetic indie punk. They've got three tracks up on their bandcamp which I enjoy very much. They're also great live, of particular note is the raw energy of front woman Emily, who together with Rackets and Tiny Ruins performed at the Vodafone NZ music awards last night with their Toy Love tribute, and tore shit up.
I particularly enjoyed driving around Dunedin listening to The Clean anthology this year. This song particularly fitted as a soundtrack to the landscape. Here's a live version.
Chris Knox's band before the Toy Love were The Enemy. But with no official recordings, we have to make do with archival stuff like this. As you're probably aware,we now have two new Toy Love vinyl's available on a limited release, one live and one a compilation of the bulk of their recordings. I got the live double LP, but I won't play it till I get a new turntable mat, as I (un-cool music geek moment) wish not to damage the precious grooves by getting dust all through them.
Another snapshot of Dunedin circa-mid 1980. Ahh, so beautiful, so melodic; under-appreciated. The videos a little corny, a little cheap, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
Why doesn't anyone remember The Chills' 1992 masterpiece Soft Bomb? I don't know, probably because they got dropped from the major label they were signed from soon after release making it subsequently a pretty rare find in music stores. But if you find it, pick it up, or even just pirate it. It's the, dare I say it, Dunedin-sound (for lack of a better classification) White Album. Great songs, great ideas, melodies, lyrics, from start to finish.
So people didn't like their attitude at the Vodafone NZ Music Awards 2012 last night? I thought they were awesome. Great live performance, the right amount of impoliteness, attitude and sticking it to the establishment. They said cunt, they ripped on John Key. Both things I like.
Dunedin rock/reggae/funk/metal/blues with balls! They're great live, toured all the time and released a great full length album this year.
Ok, so I realise I pretty much just talked about my favourite old school NZ bands, but I will make a point of finding some new, currently gigging and emerging NZ artists and writing about them on here. More to come soon. Chur.
Pink Floyd's The Wall is an album, stage show and movie. You all probably know it. It's an album that keeps running into me, or I keep running into it even if it isn't one of my favourite albums. It follows me and re-appears through several key moments of life. It's not a perfect album. Don't get me wrong, it's a good album, just not flawless enough to get right up there in my personal canon. In my opinion Wish You Were Here is the best Floyd album, as its the last time the band was truly working together in the studio to craft a piece of aural art in a collaborative fashion. The cracks were showing but the machine was still working. After that it was all ego, money and the business and occasionally inspired art that comes with that. Roger Water's The Wall does manage to one of the more rewarding megalomaniac ego trips turned consumable entertainment. Its the larger media experience of The Wall, the imagery and the themes is what catapults it beyond the music (which is undoubtedly very good) found within. This experience is inseparable from the drawings, stage show and movie. Here's my little journey with Pink Floyd's The Wall.
I first became familiar with Roger Waters' narcissistic concept album as a child, listening to it via my Dad's music collection. I don't remember much from this listen, but I know I was already familiar with Another Brick In The Wall Part Two from the concert film Pulse which I'd rented out from time to time. I was probably between six and eight.
It wasn't until I got a tape copy of it around age ten that I fully delved further than Another Brick In The Wall Part II. To my ten year old mind however it was all a bit too much to handle. I love tracks like Mother now, they're great satirical folk/pop rock songs with a dark edge, but not something that did much for my adolescent mind. What I was really attracted to at this stage was the drawings and animations associated with The Wall. Growing up I often saw the animated clip from the Another Brick In The Wall segment of the school teacher crushing children through a meat grinder. The school teacher looked so nasty, the idea of crushing children into pulp left a huge impression on my young mind. I didn't get the symbolism behind the image, I was attracted to the sickening violence of the image. I would regularly walk past the VHS case at my local video store and stare at the image on the back, of the school teacher and also at the screaming face on the front. These were repulsive but at the same time attractive images.
Symbolism
Flash to me at 11 or 12 and it was now time for me to watch the film. Rented it on DVD yet this happened to coincide with me getting the flu. I was sick, already had a temperature and was having all the awful feverish dreams one associates with this kind of flu. Decided to watch The Wall in this state was not a good idea. My mum was definitely around to attempt to censor me, but I was stubborn. I didn't get past the trailer. Those dark three minutes of hammers, animated monsters, children's faces becoming those of identical ghosts, blood, religious symbolism and rock was enough for my young mind. I turned it off and went to bed, and would sat through no more of the film before returning the DVD. Following this, every time I went to the video store I would have to turn the case of The Wall around as I walked past it. I was truly bloody afraid of the screaming face on the front of it.
Soon the terror I initially felt upon watching The Wall became the very thing I appreciated about it. It took me a fair few months to again pluck up the courage to watch the film again, but when I finally did, I loved it. The film still disturbed me, in particular those ghostly masks on the school children, and the animated sequence to Goodbye Blue Sky, but it was the films disturbing yet elements that I now appreciated. The cluster-fuck of music, psychotic imagery, and the sometimes clashing contributions of Scarfe, Waters and Parker made for an awe-inspiring film experience. Like the album, the film contains its share of flaws, but these can be mostly overlooked and contribute partly to why the film is an interesting experience, such as the clashing live action/animation and musical elements. But the film certainly invaded my thoughts enough for me to come back to it frequent times over the next ten years. Most recently I watched it in preparation for seeing the Roger Water's The Wall stage show live in Auckland. This recent viewing once again reignited my appreciation of the film, as the music and images thrusted themselves upon my life a shotgun blast to the head. The riot of teenagers entering the fascist-like experience of the opening concert set to the tune of In The Flesh, the Jesus Christ pose of Bob Geldof during The Thin Ice, the dark anti-war animation accompanying Goodbye Blue Sky, the flower vagina fight and of course the marching hammers; the film experience felt as fresh and effective as it ever had. Apparently the making of the film wasn't an incredibly enjoyable time for any of the party's involved (Alan Parker particularly expressed his unhappiness during the films production). I guess sometimes a tense atmosphere creates the most interesting art.
Largely male perspective horrors litter the
film and stage show. Which is interesting
because a large proportion of the
audience were female.
Then finally, seeing The Wall live, In The Flesh in front of me; puppets, pyro, planes, projections, flying pigs and all, was the culmination of a saga lasting more than a decade, reaching back into early childhood memories of listening to Floyd for the first time and being exposed to graphic and inspiring images crafted for The Wall. Its not a show I ever expected to see live, it seemed so ambitious in its first live form that it seemed farthest thing from possible that Waters would decide to resurrect it. But he did, he brought the whole damn thing right to my home country. And I was there with my father, the man who introduced me to Pink Floyd as just a wee young lad. The music and the images were still as haunting and curious as ever, except seeing the school-teacher in fucking gigantic puppet size or watching the Gerald Scarfe animations projected on a wall covering an entire arena was a fully immersive experience, so much more so than listening to the album on vinyl or watch the film. Not that either of those experiences are to be scoffed at, as it is for those that I was introduced to this great, flaws and all, piece of modern contemporary art. Finally, my father and I got up and ran to the front for one of the final songs of the show, Run Like Hell. I'd like to say it somewhat echoed the riot of fans at the beginning of the film (though probably not as intense). Waters was right in front of us, and we were pretty sure he look and laughed as we crossed our arms in the marching hammer salute and thrusted them towards him. We partyed, to a work of art that had disturbed my little mind ten years earlier, in front of the very mind that created it in the first place.
Quite a good little journey really. Here's a video of that moment if anyone's interested.
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