A low hum

INTERNATIONAL EDITION

Cassette . The Dears . Cortina Signer . The Dead Pan Rangers Eskimo . Tunnel to the Sun The Phoenix Foundation . Xanadu

ISSUE 13 / CD 6

Everything but... Blink Copy Editor Jessie Scoullar

CONTENTS
Page no/Track No.
4 5/1 10/2 12 14 18/3 22/4 27 28/5 32/6 35/7 40 42/8 48/10

ISSUE 13/ CD 6

Cover Luke Buda of The Phoenix Foundation Indigo Bar 2004 by Blink Contributors Jessie Scoullar, Blink, Sonny Twirl, James T Randal Amy Stelle, Fran Miller-Pezo , Beck Coogan, Ace, Duncan Grieve, Randal. Publisher A LOW HUM ltd. Advertising Enquiries ads@alowhum.com +64 4 801 6016 CD Mastering Bevan Smith

Editorial The Phoenix Foundation The Dears Battle of the Bands Bonnie Prince Billy Tunnel to the Sun Signer CD Cassette Eskimo Cortina Tour #5 Xanadu The Dead Pan Rangers

CD Production www.amstore.co.nz

Hum Level 2 15 Marion Street Wellington New Zealand +64 4 801 6016 Will Oldham ALH#13-3

CREDITS

EDITORIAL

By Blink

Commercial New Zealand bands have taken a hammering in recent years from the fact that nobody has been buying their second albums, cos, well mainly their second albums have sucked.

Tadpole? It's hard to imagine a record worse then their first, but they pulled it off and it flopped. The Feelers? Who cares? The less records from them the better... But talk about going from an uberselling album to releasing an album selling about as many copies as the local church folk singers cassette tape. Zed? Oh man, that was plain embarrassing. Stellar? Shit, we know who got the songwriting talent in that family.

I love a good pop/rock record and I reckon Betchadupa have delivered a cracker, but I'm concerned that the sophomore curse is going to hit them hard. I mean, not to the same extent, because their first album never went ballistic on the charts, but because you just know that dumb fuckers are going to go and buy the crappy new Evermore album and flick past this ingenious piece of pop. It's not often that a New Zealand radio band will crank out a record this fine. I certainly wouldn't normally devote an editorial to it. Betchadupa will continue to get shit because people still judge them on some little songs released when the band were 15. They judge them on who their parents are and some of the single choices they've made. It depresses me because I know people don't really take Betchadupa seriously; it's not cool to like them. Even though Evermore's new stuff sounds like a tired Travis ripping off the band practising next to Coldplay's rehearsal rooms, they will sell more records and probably get a higher profile. Their pompous cheesy record is being released in the same week as Betchadupa's and very likely it will do better because the boys are from Fielding and doing good! and the general public will be so impressed that someone from there actually made a CD when the compact disc doesn't even exist in Fielding yet. Give Betcahdupa a break and check out their new record. I guarantee that if it wasn't by Betchadupa it would already be your favourite. Is this a paid advertisment for Betchadupa? No. Is this trying to begin an Oasis vs Blur type battle with two young kiwi bands currently based in OZ? Highly likely.

In these cases it's fair enough. Lame band gets huge; label rushes band back into studio to maximise on popularity; band churns out album of second rate songs and then dies on the charts. But what about the cases where the second album is actually better then the debut? What happened to sales of Goodshirt's new record? Sure there's no Sophie, but do fans of the first album not have any interest in checking out the new record? It's a great deal better. It's sold about a quarter of the amount the first album sold, yet in my opinion it's a much stronger, introspective, heartfelt album. It's definitely not as disposable as the debut, and unfortunately it has cost them. So, I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that I think the new album from Betchadupa is fucken ace. Unfortunately, close minded fools will probably not give it a listen.

Feature by Taryn Wilson Photos by Blink Track 1: Hitchcock

THE PHOENIX FOUNDATION

Liam Finn ALH#13-4

Samuel Flynn Scott ALH#13-5

When I was asked to interview The Phoenix Foundation I said yes. The reason being, I can't listen to more than two songs in a row without wanting to fling myself enthusiastically from a cliff. And it intrigues me. I can't explain it, but some say (and I like this idea) that people are subconsciously in tune with song rhythms that match their own individual body rhythms. Perhaps my body rhythm is significantly faster than Phoenix songs? The quality of Horsepower can't be denied. The songs they produce are brave, humble and beautiful. They're like the prettiest, most unassuming girl in the room quietly obvious despite the skanks and skites. But like the pretty girl's admirers, Horsepower seems to divide its own admirers into those holding a quiet appreciation, and those more forthcoming (ie those who wouldn't miss a gig unless they were bound, gagged and cemented into the boot of a car). Founding member Conrad Wedde (guitar, keys) appreciatively describes the band's regular gig-goers as a lovely melange of wonders and he is admiringly philosophical about the effect the music has on people. After all, this is what music is about right? Affecting people. I guess melancholy is a strangely alluring emotion. What with the changing of the seasons and the passing of time, I'd say most people experience a decent amount of melancholy and associate with that in the tunes. Hopefully it has some kind of positive effect on people. I suppose it's reasonably gentle... you don't want to become all moany like Nickelback. Equally as quirky and charming as the songs themselves are the song titles. When asked what constituted the sometimes wacky titles, such as 'Bruiser (Miami 3000)', he simply states, I think the song names emerge from the ethereal

Warner Emery

wacky universe that connects us all in the bond of wack-chi. Sweet then. The band formed in 1997 when good friends Conrad, Sam Scott and Luke Buda decided to concentrate their talents into a new diverse sound instead of their usual metal. They recorded 'This Charming Van' and the China Cove EP in 2000 and were joined by Richie Singleton, Will Ricketts and Tim Hansen the following year. A few weeks later they recorded 'The Drinker' which won Best Unreleased Song at the 2002 bNet awards. Now signed to Capital Recordings, the boys released Horsepower last year. This year the album was nominated for Best Pop Release and Best Album at the 2004 bNet Music Awards and Album of the Year at the New Zealand Music Awards. Not bad for an album which defies the commercial bracket which some other Tui nominees have in common. Although they missed out on making a speech at the winners podium this time around, Conrad says he feels much the same after the awards as beforehand. It's great for people to recognize your work, it's very chuffing. Just as successful as the album are their videos, usually a charming meeting of art and sound. The video for 'Gone Fishing', directed by Richard Bell and shot at Lake Coleridge near Christchurch was awarded Best Cinematography at the Handle the Jandal music video awards and won the Kodak Music Clip Knack Award for best low budget video this year.

There are a few good directors in this country, but it is hard to find someone who can reflect the art of the music into a visual equal. What I look for in a director would be someone who has concepts that stand alone as cool, beautiful works of art, not just promotional pap. Stuff that makes you go, 'This is rad!' I love the work of Michael Gondry, he has a nice way of mixing technologies from past and present and seems to have a feel for rhythmic and emotional relationships between sounds and visuals. There is a really cool doco about him... very inspirational. I want to do more videos with my friend Luke Savage. He's an ideas man. Ideas once thought of has good, such as your once favourite fluoro bike pants or ambient whale noise CDs, may have seemed fantastic at the time but too much of a good thing often ends in loathing. With sporadic gigs popping up here and there with seemingly no particular frequency (or loathing for that matter) I asked Conrad if The Phoenix Foundation do this on purpose to keep the punters drooling for more, as other bands are known to do to avoid overexposure. To be honest I think we're just a

fairly chaotic organisational bunch... perhaps it does work to our advantage? Their songs went down well on their last trip across the ditch and there are plans to go back, and hopefully over to UK/Europe. On their New Zealand tour the boys amused themselves by playing cell phone mini-golf and drinking lots of beer as well as alarming the country's cow herds. We played Hey Cow! where you shout at cows you drive past to try and make them look. And at the Leigh Sawmill, Warner miraculously transformed into Bullneck of the Beach! Now that the year of Horsepower has just about come to the end of its cycle, The Phoenix Foundation crew might get the chance to happily harass cows again. A new album is on the way. At the time of writing the upcoming album's working title is The Mammal and has a loose release date for the beginning of next year. Conrad describes the new album as a bit of a dark beast. It feels kind of weighty, but having said that I guess it has healthy portions of humour and irreverence and angelic angels? It has a certain scattiness.

ALH#13-6

Luke Buda ALH#13-7

Given the acclaim of Horsepower, a little trepidation over the release of a second album, known to be notoriously difficult in

a brand new Tonka truck, Conrad eagerly advises that he and Luke have their own brand new ProTools setups. ProTools is

Richie Singleton

the Kiwi music industry, is to be expected. But he says most of the pressure he puts on himself. The Phoenix has been evolving constantly since we started... I've lost track. I think we're all better at our instruments now. I feel mostly pressure from myself to keep exploring sounds, to not get drawn into mediocre patterns. I think it's good to be surprising yourself as much as possible and to be making stuff that's awesome and radical. There is so much to be discovered and rediscovered anew. They tried the old mic in the oven trick again but it just sounded shit. The boys then discovered some new techniques capturing percussionist Will Ricketts screaming through a didgeridoo. We also captured him giggling uncontrollably and turned him up an octave like a little stoned chipmunk. We got some nice percussion sounds with a jar of water and an envelope filter, and we like ProTools plug-ins. The band used the software during the recording of the album and, like a kid with

good for recording stuff and going off on silly tangents... I'm thinking about reverting back to the 4-track. As the old adage goes, if it ain't broke dont fix it? The new album is again produced by Dr Lee Prebble at The Surgery, recording home for Trinity Roots, Recloose, Fat Freddy's Drop, Cornerstone Roots, The Black Seeds and Twinset. Conrad says Lee has remarkable patience and makes drums sound fat. Although the album is yet to be released, Conrad says he would like to get to work on another record as soon as possible, moving towards a new-age vibe type thing. In the meantime he will strive to reach his ultimate musical goal: to master the guitar and pursue harmoniousness. That's two things. Maybe to master the guitar harmoniously. That's weird though because harmoniousness must surely be implicit in mastery of anything? Unless you're pursuing some kind of evil mastery

ALH#13-8

THE DEARS
Feature by James T Randal Track 2: We Can Have It
Ladies and gentlemen The Dears have arrived! That is unless you're from Canada in which case that may have happened for you anytime in the last eight or so years. As NME so eloquently put it a few months back: Canada is the new Detroit. If that's the case then The Dears are the new black leather jacket gracing the backs of every cool kid on the scene. If you're into what the NME deem fashionable then their Detroit reference will make sense but if, like myself, you've been onto the Canadian thing for the last few years you will know that their rating of the current music scene and its exports is right on the money and perhaps a little overdue. Along with Broken Social Scene, The Unicorns and Do Make Say Think, The Dears are setting the world outside their home of Montreal alight with a passion, power and an expressive bold indie-styled pop that tears through your chest, crushing your heart, and leaving you feeling strange, broken yet somehow enlightened. It's no mean feat and something we haven't witnessed in a long while; it would seem everyone's been more concerned with how they look rather than making emotional music. In early 2003 The Dears released their second album No Cities Left to critical acclaim in Canada. However it wasn't until their South by South West performance earlier this year that attention, or more to the point the right international attention, started to pick up. With many labels' mouths left watering, the band headed to the UK for their first European tour in which they were quickly snapped up by uber cool label Bella Union. Head honcho and former Cocteau Twin Simon Raymonde loved the band so much that he appealed to them as a fan not as a record label and it worked. It's easy to see why the UK were so hot for the band. Main man Murray Lightburn sounds uncannily like Morrissey or selftitled era Blur Damon, but that's where the English comparisons stop. However on closer inspection The Dears are not quite what they seem. Their music is diverse: guitars, synths and weird shit like flutes and ghostly girly backing vocals drone in and out over some incredibly lush chord progressions. The first single We Can Have It" is a perfect example of their capacity for emotion. Quiet and subtle, until it explodes with an epic ending of guitars, horns and strings fading out with an almost chant like finale, howling the lines "it won't ever be what we want". In late October and early November they are due to release No Cities Left as their debut international album. Rolling Stone USA have already picked them as one of 10 bands to watch for in 2005. Coming out in a number of territories including the UK, the US and of course Australia and New Zealand on new label Speak n Spell Records. With strong tour rumours for early next year the Dears are going to be fucking huge so fall in love with them now and hold out for the shows. It'll be like no sex before marriage, because after the shows I caught on their recent return to the UK the wait will be worth it.

By Blink and Randal

BATTLE OF THE BANDS

Step 10: It is time for the regional finals. You live in the 'Naki and there has been a band from New Plymouth in every band competition final ever, so there is a strong tradition to uphold. It is likely that 6 bands from the North Shore of Auckland will make the final, so it is time for you to represent. The fact that you have a female lead singer is a big point of difference and you find yourself winning by a landslide with the judges falling over themselves having never seen a band so original since Tadpole. the solo to really make an impact. Make sure you get that new Jackson 'Warlock' guitar with Whammy bar, so you can do some mean divebombs Step 7: Gather together your outfits for the evening. I'd suggest each member wearing their favourite band t-shirt, the larger the better. Ideally, it should be big enough to come down to your knees. Make sure all the t-shirts are black so you look good as a group. One member wearing the Sepultura Roots tshirt is almost certainly going to help you on your way to victory. Step 8: You're now ready to play your first heat. Don't worry, none of the other bands at the heat will have ever played a gig before as well, so you're all in the same boat. You've managed to rope in all your buddies from Countdown, who are grumbling about paying $7 to watch some crap bands play on a weeknight when they could just be at home watching CSI, NCIS or SVU. The bar owner finds 3 regular punters who are happy to be judges tonight, one of them isn't drunk, so you've got your work cut out for you. Anyway, since one of the other judges is your lead vocalist's brother, you'll be sweet as. Step 9: Congratulations! You've won your heat. Now its time for the semi-finals. Don't worry, the BOTB has already pre-selected who is going to be in the finals, and as long as you keep on playing speed metal like its 1987, you'll go all the way. The semis are just a ways to make an extra buck from the punters. Rest easy, enjoy the show. You'll get through. It's time to practice that crowd banter. Try making fun of the drummer, then introduce each member of the band. Each member can then play a little bit of their instrument as their name is said. This will score you maximum marks. Step 11: You're through to the NATIONAL FINALS! It's about now that you should find out what the prizes are. First prize is a song recorded at Area 51 studios and released on Intergalactic Records. Wait a second... Doesn't Area51 run this competition? What sort of prize is that? Don't the winners of the Smokefree Rockquest get to record three songs at York Street? How is winning a record contract a prize? Does anybody actually care about Intergalactic Records? How come the winners of the Australian leg of BOTB win $11,500 worth of prizes and the New Zealand winner wins zip? However none of these questions actually go through your mind, because you think the internet is some of sort of fishing accessory and have no other way of finding out what the prizes are. Step 12: Its time for the National Finals. The kind hearted souls at Intergalactic records have seen their way to offering a free bus ride to Auckland for your band. What great people! It's a joyous occasion, celebrations are at hand. Bands of all genres are represented; speed metal, black metal AND death metal. All the female bass players have gathered and are salivating over Jack from 8ft Sativa who is a special guest judge. The tickets to the finals are $30, so nobody shows up, but it doesn't matter, it's not about playing to people, its about winning a competition. Tip: make sure you've got enough 9V batteries to power your Boss 'Metalzone' distortion pedals before you go on stage. Step 13: You've been working on your stage prescence since the heats because this is apparently the band's weakest area. The drummer heard it wrong and bought along a bunch of wrapped gifts and placed them in the middle of the stage. But it doesn't matter, the judges don't actually

know what stage presence is either, so you are awarded full marks. Step 14: All the bands have played and now last year's winners are playing while the judges are judging. There is so much black leather and purple lace in the venue that some body calls Cher who immediately flys over to film her new music video. Step 15: Negative Narcolepsy from the North shore are announced as winners. The singer had a special tie-dyed version of the Sepultura Roots t-shirt and this was what pushed them over the winner's line. Add to this the fact that the band have been practicing at Area51 studios for months and have already been talking to the record label running the competition... and there you have it. Step 16: It's time for the afterparty, held at Daves Paint'n'Panel. There is a surprise guest performance from Savant who get a hero's welcome. Intergalactic records have been good enough to give one free beer to each band. What a great night. Two girls get naked, and the general feeling is that is the greatest party ever! The producer of the competition grabs the beer back from you when they realise the mistake they have made, but its still a great night. Step 17: Hey, what a great experience. Don't worry that it cost your band a lot of money to play in this competition and that you've now played 4 gigs and not been paid for any. You've gained a lot of invaluable experience; you've played in front of an audience - that sort of experience is irreplaceable. As you embark on your slow bus journey back to New Plymouth, you have time to reflect on some of the great moments of the competition. You laugh with the band about that time when the sound guy never showed up and Murray's Mum had to mix the bands, or the time you played to 2 people at the heats: the sound engineer and the bar owner. Oh the memories... Step 18: There is always next year. Don't worry about playing your own shows or anything during the year. That sort of thing is for suckers, just wait around for The Battle of the Bands 2005, next time you'll all wear tie-dyed t-shirts and play progressive metal, not ambient metal.
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Step 1: Find some friends from work who want to form a band. Don't worry, they don't need to know how to play, just need to be keen. Ask around your fellow Countdown checkout operators during smoko, offer to shout a dozen Lion Brown at the first band practice, you'll be right as rain.

Step 2: Find a band name. Something that has real meaning and represents who you are as a band. For example, you could name yourself Osmium, because on the chart of elements, that is the heaviest of ALL the metals.

HOW TO WIN THE

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Step 3: You'll need to be able to fill in the entry form. This will require somebody who can write. This excludes most of your band. This is just the excuse you need to ask Stu's girlfriend to be your band's manager. She made out with a roadie at a Metallica concert in the early eighties, so heads the list of potential candidates.

Step 4: You'll need to find the $50 entry fee. It's time to sell your precious collection of vinyl. Sell your 100 Whitesnake, Styper and Scorpions records at Cash Converters Stokes Valley. Find the other $49.50 and you're on your way. Step 5: Practise. Practise. Practise Nah, just kidding. No decent bands actually enter this competition, so as long as you turn up and remember the difference between a snare and a tom, you'll be right. Step 6: Write some songs. They'll need to be about 3:15 each. There should be 3 verses, 2 choruses and a double chorus to end the song. Make sure you leave about 1 and a half minutes in the middle of the song for the guitar solo. Try some innovative techniques like finger tapping and pick slides during

Matt Sweeny

BONNIE PRINCE BILLY

12.9.04 Indigo Bar. Wellington Photos by Blink

Will Oldham ALH#13-14

Cindy Hopkins ALH-15 ALH#13-15

Will Oldham ALH-16 ALH#13-16

Tunnel to the Sun ask the uninitiated listener to "Imagine a fire engine in a thick forest. At sunrise the magnifying glass that was carelessly discarded by some crazy hippy catches the trees on fire. Music is the sound that quells the inferno but at the same time the siren makes a whirring sound." For those who prefer their introductions in less poetic terms, TTTS consist of four Wellington men who divide their time amongst synthesisers, bass, guitars, a drum kit and "other inventions of their own device". Their sound is, menacing, layered, and results in sonic configurations that are both pulsing and dark.

you won't be hearing them played on The Edge any time remotely soon. As their name alludes their format of expression is at times a challenge. "Nigel came up with the name. He was expressing his frustration at the time about a band he could not see as succeeding, because tunnelling to the sun is of course impossible. What might repel you from TTTS's music is also what might seduce you. Their willingness to experiment and entangle with any and all instruments, a theremin the night I saw them play, and simply to improvise lures the listener in. When these musicians chose to improvise they are relying upon their instinct that, "People might take some sort of perverse pleasure witnessing four people scrambling for a moment on a common thread to weave up some sort of feeling." It's an instinct that works and TTTS are correct in saying "usually uncharted territory is more interesting for the band and audience alike". With most of TTTS's material being relatively unknown to those at their gigs, they have no play list expectations and flourish in that luxury. Whether it's not being set up and playing before midnight, the weather, a lack of or overindulgence of cigarettes and alcohol or their mood, anything can impact upon a gig and each is show is a separate entity. It seems that TTTS are playing in a vein of music that is relatively unpopulated. "I don't know a band quite like us. Then again I don't get out as much as I would like so there is bound to be someone doing what we do." In this light, making vague comparisons between them and other New Zealand or international bands seems redundant. Nonetheless the collective view themselves as part of a community and say, "What I do know is that bands are made up of normal people and machines just doing what they love".

TUNNEL TO THE SUN

Feature by Amy Steele Photos by Blink Track 3: Loved

If you're craving a romantic, tell all expos of the band member's sordid musical histories, accept my apologies because you simply won't get it. When questioned on how the band came together these local artists muse, "Our being is a state and that state is ever evolving," and make an obscure passing reference to the king himself: Elvis. Yep Tunnel to the Sun is definitely not divulging any secrets. Instead it seems TTTS's music has been doing all the communicating as of late. The last three months has seen this experimental outfit luring gig goers to an assortment of venues about Wellington and building an intrigued fan base along the way. August 29 this year saw the launch of TTTS's EP at Indigo with "kick-ass support" from the ever present Disasteradio. TTTS are at present working on follow up EPs but have no immediate plans for an album. This is a far better than average effort from this group of self described "unripened yet seasoned volunteer music professionals" who all have projects outside of the group that devour their time. Tunnel to the Sun certainly can't claim to be Wellington's most accessible band. I must warn you there aren't a lot of hooks and no,

ALH#13-18

ALH#13-19

To their credit, one thing TTTS aren't doing is fashioning their image or their music around a trend. You won't find them wearing tailored tight jeans, they don't own a single Datsuns album amongst them and their haircuts aren't even mildly nostalgic of the seventies era. When antagonised with the question of how essential they think image is for a band they comment, "I'm not going to patsy around saying I love every other band whose name gets dropped. Let them wear their tight pants, just wait till they try to have kids one day." Their integrity is further strengthened by an uncompromising stance on catching a momentary wave of popularity. "This sort of crass marketing would not be appropriate for us as we are a good deal ahead of current trends. When it works for us we'll ride it." This outfit are also verging on patriotic concerning the Wellington music community. "The Wellington scene that we belong to is such a dynamic, vibrant, diverse organism that any implication that you have to conform to a particular style aesthetic belittles and diminishes the ideals upon which it is built. So if you like your musicians strong in their stance and experimental in their music you can grab Tunnel to the Sun's EP from Slow Boat Records, Cuba St or Musiquarium on Dominion Rd in Auckland. And if hearing their music inspires you to investigate or contact TTTS you can do so via their website www.tunneltothesun.com or email them at band@tunneltothesun.com

Paul Mortensen ALH#13-20

SIGNER
Feature and photos by Blink Track 4: Machines at Low Tide

Bevan Smith AKA Signer is an enigma. His records are released in several overseas markets, he is a few weeks away from embarking on a 4 month US and UK tour, touring with some of the most interesting alternative artists around: we're not talking alternative as in grunge rock, but artists pushing the boundaries of pop music. Artists using and abusing noise, conventional and un-conventional instrumentation, sampling voice and digital technology. He is about to play fifty shows with visionaries like Panda Bear of the Animal Collective, and Ariel Pink (the first non Animal Collective artist signed to their label "Paw Tracks") yet Signer is relatively unknown at home. In fact apart from a couple of low-key shows in Wellington, he has hardly even performed live in New Zealand. Bevan began Involve records in 1998 as a necessity, a way to get records released by a tight-knit group of Wellington indie electronic artists. A slew of fine releases from Bevan's own Aspen and Patio and similarly minded friends like Michael Upton (Jet Jaguar), Clinton Francis (All the Pretty Things) and Jeremy Coubrough (Mandrake) meant Involve quickly gained a reputation for putting out some of the country's most interesting releases. In 2000, Bevan recorded his first album under the Signer nom de plume, Giving it up to Feel Effected. This was released through Involve and Kog Transmissions, and while being distributed in the US fell into the hands of Todd Hyman of Carpark Records, who was working part time in a record store at the time. He got in touch with Bevan and the result was Low Light Dreams released on Involve/Carpark in 2002. Low Light Dreams was a departure from the ambient techno records he had been previously creating as Signer and Aspen. Recorded while Bevan was in London, neither an "electronic record or an "indie" record, Low Light Dreams featured real guitars, bass and non-sampled vocals, but ripped apart and then pieced back together with disjointed beats and flipping happily between stark minimalism and gorgeous texture-laden compositions. With international independent media raving favourably in support of Low Light Dreams, a follow up was inevitable.

Bevan set to work on his new record The New Face of Smiling. Slightly more accessible than his first two, it's a mix of eclectic time signatures, sprawling soundscapes, electric and acoustic instrumentation and experimentation. A gorgeous journey of fuzzed out electro-pop where the tracks blur the lines between electronic and organic music, not in a cheesy "Ive just discovered pro-tools" kinda way, but exploring the freedom of deconstruction and genre bending pop music. Playing drums on several of the tracks on Smiling and working with Bevan on various other projects is Dino Karlis from HDU. The two were writing each other fan mail a few years back and when Bevan moved back to Wellington beginning of last year, they met up. Theyve performed together on several occasions including at the closing party of an art installation that Bevan had created at Enjoy gallery in Wellington. As part of the installation, Bevan and Dinos performance was to interface directly with the architecture of the gallery, creating a live environment for considering the impact of sound on our understanding of space. Dino and Bevan are also currently working on the debut album of Over the Atlantic. Not bothered that he is relatively unknown in his home country, Bevan is itching to get out on tour again. Performing live with a laptop, guitar and vocals he'll be traveling the US with fellow label mates Greg Davis (released the fantastic Arbor in 2002) and the current darling of the LA underground pop scene, Ariel Pink. Live shows usually go without a hitch, although relying solely on computer technology to get you through a show can sometimes prove disastrous as Bevan discovered at a show in Paris. His laptop gave out and he started to bang his fists against it, when, just like out of a film, his fellow musician Matthew Mitchell had to restrain and hold him back as Bevan tried to bring the laptop within an inch of its life. If all goes well on this tour Bevan will bring his laptop back with him, hopefully full up with a bunch of songs from artists around the world to go on his next compilation CD. His first, aptly named Compilation, a split Involve/Capital Recordings project was one of the finest compilations of the year and I eagerly await the second in this series.
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Bevan Smith ALH#13-22

Bevan and Dino ALH#13-24

ISSUE 13 / CD 6

Hitchcock by The Phoenix Foundation We Can have It by The Dears Loved by Tunnel to the Sun Machines at Low Tide by Signer What a Relief by Cassette Evergreen by Eskimo 2001 ways to love me by Cortina Candy by Xanadu Little Boy Baker by John White Alpha Bits by The Dead Pan Rangers

Track 1. Hitchcock by The Phoenix Foundation

Produced by The Phoenix Foundation and Lee Prebble c Will Ricketts/The Phoenix Foundation www.thephoenixfoundation.co.nz

Track 2. We Can have It by The Dears

From the album Lost In The Plot Out soon on Speak n Spell Records www.speaknspellmusic.com

From the Tunnel to the Sun EP. Out Now. band@tunneltothesun.com :: www.tunneltothesun.com

Track 3. Loved by Tunnel to the Sun

Track 4 Machines at Low Tide by Signer

From "The New face of Smiling" Carpark/Involve Records 2004 Involve@involve.co.nz

Track 5. What a Relief by Cassette

From the as yet to be titled debut album Out early next year www.cassette.co.nz

Track 6. Evergreen by Eskimo

From the debut album Loverbatim out now on Failsafe Records www.failsaferecords.com :: safemusic@clear.net.nz

Track 7 2001 Ways to Love Me by Cortina

c Cortina From the soon to be released album. Acehurt@hotmail.com

Track 8. Candy by Xanadu

Written and performed by Xanadu Live recording from the forthcoming retrospective compilation

Track 9. Little Boy Baker by John White (Bonus Track) Recorded by Craig Monk, Berlin, 2003. From the new John White album "Mogwash", Available in shops soon. Recorded with musical and technical help from Cloudboy members. Interview with John White (Mestar) in Issue 9/CD2 Track 10. Alpha Bits by The Dead Pan Rangers
From the album: We've done so much good for so many people" New EP out soon - check out: www.deadpanrangers.net Contact: nb@deadpanrangers.net

CD ALH#13-27

Unless you've had your eyes shut tight of late, you'll have noticed the glare of the garage rock juggernaut receding. You may have heard the faint beeping as it reverses out of the limelight making way for a gentler, more introspective vehicle a dented old pickup with rust and peeling paint.

CASSETTE
Feature by Jessie Scoullar Photos by Blink Track 5: What a Relief

It's the new garage rock: alt country, indie rock style. Within a genre dominated by American performers, New Zealand's prime contenders are Melbourne based Cassette. Cassette released an EP called Emo four years ago pioneering the cause for New Zealand, and unlike so many recordings, it hasn't aged a bit. It seems to have lots of legs, doesn't it! says Tom Watson. I'm really proud of that and it's something that's scared me about releasing anything else. I feel like we were really lucky. Perhaps this goes some way towards explaining the delay in releasing a follow up. I've released albums before and I can't always say that I'm really happy with what you end up with. I think part of it's the way it was recorded, music done first and drums done later, there's even drum machine in there it sounds sort of contemporary but they're still essentially country songs. Cassette is Tom on vocals/guitar, Craig Terris on drums, and Paul Trigg taking over on bass following the departure of Dave Fraser. Paul joined the band most recently, and Dave's actually just left. He's gone to London to marry his girlfriend. Which is a real blow for us as a live band and as a recording band, he's a great musician. He's contributed a few songs on this latest album so he'll be sorely missed, but we will survive. The new album is nearly finished. Tom explains the delay. It's been a really long time coming, for various reasons like waiting for things to happen and then things not happening and sort of waiting for the right time to do stuff. Also we're a bit fussy about it. We didn't want to just bash it out. It's kind of like the longer you wait the longer you're prepared to spend

making it. This year's gone so fast we've only played about six gigs! I finished doing a mix today for the magazine, the first official release off the album. It's called 'What a Relief'. I was thinking about it before, it's a bit like what's on the EP. There's a few songs on the album that aren't really like that, but this one sort of is, so it'll be a nice introduction for people in New Zealand. So what's the album called? At the moment it's tentatively, or affirmatively but there's always an option cut for summer. Somehow I'm still confused. Which part was the name? Haha! The album's going to be called Cut for Summer. I think Craig coined it, he was talking about how he's going to start working out so he'll look fantastic for summer. So it's not about getting drunk? I was thinking about how you always want to make a record for summer, but it never works out that way. Or at least it hasn't in my experience. It could do this time! One name, many interpretations. And it's catchy, goddamit! With bands like HLAH, Baconfoot, Hell is Other People and now Letterbox Lambs in their musical CV, Cassette's music is pretty mellow by comparison. Fuck yeah, way more relaxed. I just got tired of doing the rock thing. I'm not a total rock singer, when I make up music it's whatever I feel like making up: it just doesn't tend to be riffy rock n roll stuff anymore. It still is occasionally, but I don't actually listen to a lot of hard rock music at the moment either. It pretty much just reflects the way I've gone with my taste and what I like about music. I still like a good rock song, but I think I was just getting tired of that sort of scene, just being a 'yeehaa rock n roll' band. I just want to do something that I feel like I can do for a long time and be relaxed about it. I just want to do songs I guess, as opposed to wanting to blow everyone's ears out. I still want to blow people's ears out sometimes, and my own.

Tom Watson ALH#13-28

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Much of the press on Cassette gives them the dubious tag of 'supergroup', which amuses Tom. To call Cassette a supergroup is absurd, in the context of what most people regard as a supergroup. I guess within New Zealand or even the Wellington scene people get in that headspace about bands, they know their Wellington bands - so I suppose in some people's eyes we could be elevated to the status of a supergroup. It's funny, and inappropriate to say the least! But hell, I'm not gonna shut them up. Talk it up, guys! If support slots are any measure of a band, Cassette can claim top honours earlier this year they fronted for Sonic Youth and J Mascis. We put out our EP over here through this label called Infidelity which is run by two guys, Steve Stavrakis and Bruce Milne. Bruce in particular has connections with Sonic Youth - he used to bring all those bands down to the southern hemisphere. So he gave us Lee Ranaldo's number, and we were going to contact him about recording our album. He was into it, but we just never had enough money to either get him to come over or get ourselves all over there. So as soon as our manager Dave [Benge] heard they were touring he got on the phone and said, 'I hear you're coming over, can we play a gig?' And it was fucking great. Actually I'd forgotten how much of J Mascis' music I know really well, bit of a nostalgia trip actually. It was an amazing gig to watch. Cassette also played support to the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. That was cool but it's a bit of a shame - I didn't really get into them until after we'd played the gig. I remember watching them and thinking, 'Yeah this is cool,' but since then I've listened to the record and I really really dig it. It was a cool gig. That was Paul Trigg's first gig with us. Exposure to more international artists is one advantage of living in Melbourne. Tom is philosophical about the opportunities the city offers. It's just different. It's really hard to say, 'cos the way the world is these days it's much

easier to connect with people anywhere: chances are if we'd stayed in New Zealand we would have had the same sort of opportunities, just in New Zealand. We were all doing the music thing in New Zealand for as long as we've been doing the music thing, and I think we were all ready for a change on a personal level. That's been really good; you realise a few basic truths about the way people do music everywhere.

Craig Terris

Paul Trigg

With a release on the near horizon, Cassette plan to tour, tour, tour. More than the six shows Cassette have played so far this year, then? Oh fuck yes. I'm sure that's the least amount of gigs I've ever done in my life. I've been all wrapped up in making the record, but I do miss it because it's something I love to do, I like travelling and going to interesting places and playing music. You know how you have a mission statement? One of ours is to go overseas. We want to go and play everywhere. Actually get out of the southern hemisphere. We've got friends who go over to London and Europe all the time and that sounds fuckin' awesome. Touring, stuff like that. Even people who do it very occasionally I'm equally impressed by that.

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As I arrive at Failsafe Records headquarters (a small upstairs flat in central Christchurch) lying on the floor are half made covers for Eskimo's debut album, Loverbatim. According to the band's front man, David Mulcahy, the name implies connotations of hibernation. Eskimo was born out of Dave playing solo in a bar. Apparently, Rob Mayes took pity, inviting him back to play at his Failsafe studio. Rounding out the line up, Rob brought drummer friend Michael Daly to the group. Michael was drummer from art-rock outfit, YFC. Eskimo's Dave Mulcahy is probably better known as a vocalist, guitarist and songwriter for Superette and the Jean Paul Sartre Experience. Rob Mayes' musical background included Dolphin and Throw. He also runs Failsafe Records, which has been home to the likes of Degrees K and Loves Ugly Children. When asked about the sound of Loverbatim, Rob leans over to the computer at his desk and reads straight off a press release: Distilled entrails of pop and rock art musings. The reaction is surprise from Michael. Rob: Well its pop rock, and art rock. It's got all those elements in it. Mike's the art, Dave's the pop and the rock, and I'm the rock and pop. Dave: It is a pop rock album and its pretty indie if you want a genre... but how do you describe your own poos. Some days I

think it's good, some days I think it's really crappy and some days I think it's really amazing. Just depending on how I'm feeling. Michael: The sound is strong; people will be able to immediately like it. Rob: Dave's a bit of a romantic in his lyricism. He sings about kisses and stuff like that. Michael: and bombs. Dave: Well some of the songs on it I wouldn't say were romantic at all; I think they are quite existentialist. Michael: There's some harder hitting material on it. Rob: I think all of the rhythm tracks are pretty driving actually. Eskimo vs previous bands? Michael: It's absolutely nothing like it! It's got melody. Rob: Michael's stuff is art rock, drumbased stuff.... although Eskimo's stuff is very rhythmic with a pounding beat underneath it. The icing isn't the same but the foundation is pretty close. Michael: There are other differences, like the fact other bands I've been in, we've gelled material from nothing. Dave has brought already structured work, which we have then arranged. Dave: It's an extension, in my eyes. Rob: Do you reckon it's heavier? Cause I was listening to that solo album of yours... Dave: Yeah well the last release I did was a melancholy acoustic affair, but previous albums have always had an element of rock and roll. My guitar playing is a little bit better after 20 years.

Rob: Musically it's a wee bit different. It still has the melodic hook thing, but that's just what we do, it's what all my bands have done. We both come from a similar background, Dave has the dream aspect... mesmerising, like the last JPS stuff. Dave interjects: This guy could write a fucking novel! Rob: Well I just know this the last JPS stuff was really oomph oomph... really hypnotic... didn't you notice that? Dave: What - my songs or the bands songs? It's quite different in JPS. Rob: Cause there's three songwriters I suppose...I can't tell you guys apart actually. Dave: Well the good songs are mine The Recording Process Rob: It was interesting. There is a universal agreement in the room Dave: It was not long enough for my liking. Rob: Dave has a history of big budget albums which not going to happen here. Dave: I'd really like to remix some of the album now; I was listening to some of it today, but Rob's not going to let me. Rob: Well it was just going to be a couple of songs, just to get some David songs out in the public... but it kind of spread like a cancer. Michael: Well as a process it was quite interesting; the guys were recording while I was away. Rob: Yeah, Michael went away for two months right when we wanted to start recording. So we did the whole lot to click tracks. The bad thing about it was he had to play to someone else- he wasn't the driving rhythm. The good thing about it was that he got to play to a finished product, with vocals on it. Drummers don't usually do that, they usually play to the bare bones. If someone puts a guitar hook later, they go, 'Well I would have done something to that had I known it was going to be there.' Michael got to have all of that. Michael: It's a hard thing to do, playing to a rigid time... I play to the whole thing if its there.

Dave's Influence Dave: I did the solo album in '98 and moved down to Christchurch in 2000, and pretty much sat back and listened to music rather than try to write it. That was a conscious decision because I'd been playing constantly for 15 years and I decided it was time to sit back and look at the canvas. I listened to everything; I don't think there is a piece of music I couldn't listen to. Rob whispers in the background, "I bet Michael could find something you couldn't listen to." Dave: There are always bands that I find inspiring. At the moment it's The Eagles of Death Metal and QOTSA- all those guys, I really like their approach to music. Although some days I'll find some old Wire record and get really into that, get obsessed with that. You've just got to be exposed to hearing them talk about their music, exposed to it in a context which is real rather than the press release record company rubbish which makes everything banal and boring. Do It Yourself Rob: I don't think we have a choice. Michael: Apart from that, there are so many bands that are doing well and doing it for themselves. They're not part of the rolling machine. Rob: I think we'd all like not to do as much work as we have to do. David and I cut up and manufactured CDs, and I'm just about to do distribution. We wish someone else would do it but - they wouldn't do it how we want. Michael: There are some smaller outfits who are getting quite efficient at putting CDs into stores, and not major labels. Rob: We are cottage industry. We'll make up more CDs after you leave. We will post them out ourselves, and reap those $20 rewards, it's not going to amount to more than a couple of hundred sales, it won't cover costs, but that's not why we do it. We did it because we want to have a nice album, and that's the best reason.

ESKIMO
Feature by Fran Miller-Pezo Track 6: Evergreen
Southern Alps ALH#13-32

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The New Zealand Music Industry Dave: I think it's got better and it's got worse. There's a bit of an industry, more of an opportunity for bands to make a living, but there's also a lot of bands making a lot of crap music to cater for that. There are so many roads you can go down, a lot of young bands aren't very inspirational. Michael: I think it's bigger, healthier and it's more of an industry. I think that what was what was great about music 15 years ago is that the industry was so crap people concentrated on making good music, now people concentrate on making money from music. Rob: That's the kind of music that appeals to people who when you ask what music they like they reply "all kinds". Which is exactly the wrong thing to say, you've got to have an opinion or else its just wallpaper. Dave: I think that's bullshit; I like all kinds of music. Rob: No, there's stuff you don't like. Dave: Like what? Rob: How about a Hayley Westenra album? Dave: I'd find that interesting purely for the fact that you've been involved in it. Rob: Wwell not that album...but I did record one. You have really strong opinions on music, you go, "I fucking hate it, I fucking hate it" Dave: Yeah, but at least it's interesting; I enjoy listening to why I fucking hate it. Rob: You don't like all kinds of music, you'll listen to all kinds of music and fucking hate it. Live Shows Dave: I will base myself up in Auckland next year, and will hopefully be coming down to do Eskimo things three or four times during the year. Michael: The last gig was good. We actually don't play all that often, we're probably close to the laziest band on the planet. Rob: We'd be a lot better if we were playing more often, but so would every band in New Zealand but you just can't. Michael: If you're not playing much the nerves are always there. It makes it interesting. Rob: We've really worked out how the songs go since we were writing them at the time. The arrangements are what the
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album is now, but they're not what they started. Dave: If I can get hold of the master tapes I'm going to remix it as a dance album. Touring Nationally: Dave: No. I wanted Eskimo to be a project band, concentrating more on recording and songwriting. I'm adaptable, but I don't foresee us not being so live. Rob: It was just supposed to just be a project thing, it wasn't meant to be a band. Then it went into a band, then David just wanted it to be a project, then said we'd do some gigs, and then it was back to the project, so it a bit of whatever comes, but it's the album that is important. Future of Eskimo as Recording Project Dave: Well it's me who pretty much says, "I don't want to do that," its like a presidential veto. Rob: I don't think you're quite that important David! (Laughter) Dave: I'd rather see us to be perceived as a recording project that occasionally plays live. Music in Advertising Dave: I'm all for it if we can get any money for it. We did an ad but we haven't had any money yet, that was for Firestone. I really hated it when I first thought of the concept, but right now I'm so broke I'd do anything. I hate the whole thing of commerce invading into music, but everything has a money value these days. Rob: Its not like we're writing a song, "We like Firestone tyres, they're really cool." The usage of a track on that thing was accidental at first anyway. Michael: I've got to say, Firestone's okay, cause when I was a kid at school there was a big tyre named Fristly, it was a Firestone tyre, you had to be the first one to get to it and wheel it round the playground. Class would finish and you'd run. Rob: That was in the days before Gameboys. Michael: Does that seem unusual? Dave: I remember sitting in those things. Lastly I had to ask: Did Eskimo get hassled about living in igloos? Apparently putting the heaters on is risky.

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Von Toxic Horror Story

Leo Pants The Accelerants

Dylan The Chandeliers

Greg Malcolm Surfing USSR Marty Squire The Accelerants Georgina Moy Dickthephone

John Douglas The Accelerants

Ricky Boyd The Accelerants

TOUR#5 Feat: The Accelerants

Photos from the August A LOW HUM tour by Blink
ALH#13-40 Andrew Tolley The Bloody Souls ALH-41 ALH#13-41

Maybe every city has one. A band whose success seemed an inevitability, which towered over their era, that you believed in wholeheartedly, but that never made it out. Xanadu existed in a time when, as sentimental and nave as this might sound, rock'n'roll didn't seem to matter anymore. When thinking small, disavowing success and desiring nothing more than a local, cultish crowd was the done thing. Xanadu wanted none of that. From the outset they sounded enormous, ignored prevailing indie-rock clichs, and trading in raw emotions rather than stylistic signifiers. Every show seemed an event, and despite, or perhaps precisely because they were maddeningly inconsistent live, there was an air of incredible anticipation around each one. A new song unveiled was a startling experience, and their elevation beyond the ill-fitting confines of the Kings Arms was never in doubt. Gradually those certainties died away. They remained incredible, but as line-ups changed and time wore on that momentum dissipated until it seemed clear to all but the band themselves that their moment had passed, and not long after a group who seemed born to take the world had passed on without firing a shot. This is the story of the band that could have been Kings. I spoke to singer Tim Lewton and original bassist Luke Stemson on a balmy spring afternoon, in the room where 'I See a Star' was recorded (one of the two songs released during the band's lifetime), and the air was thick with the dashed dreams the band still held for each. It seems somewhat strange then, that a band of such vitality were precipitated by a white lie. How we first realised we wanted to start a band was, I remember, we were all at some art opening on Queen St, drinking and talking about wanting to start a band. I saw Chris Heazlewood, and he asked if I had a band, cuz he was doing this gig at the K' Rd Ballroom. And I was like, 'Yeah'. And I didn't have a band at all. So we quickly got together. That gig never happened of course, but it got us started anyway.

That initial spur was quickly welded to some more deeply held ambitions of Lewton's: I had been in a lot of bands previously, like Sonorific, The Rockers, The Teentones and most recently the Baddest, and with this one I wanted it to be something more than just an idea I came up with. I wanted it to be more of a band, that was the main difference, so that we all wrote the songs together, for it to be a joint idea. We wrote a long list of all these ideas for names, and came up with Xanadu together. We'd played a party together as Meataxe, but I didn't want there to be any novelty element to it. I wanted to try and write more honest songs. That collaborative element was to prove controversial, as Lewton will allow that he has a tendency to be quite controlling in a band situation, even though we didn't set out to be in Xanadu. When I ask Stemson whether those fine intentions translated into reality he hums embarrassedly before Lewton interjects, We gave it a shot! Luke continues diplomatically, Well, um, yeah. A lot of the time it did. But a lot of the time it was more Tim pushing it in a certain direction. He has a pretty solid vision of what he's doing, and probably more and more as it wore on he was directing it. Regardless of the success of their creative collaboration, musically it was an inspired trio. The split between Tim's doomy ballads what Luke calls that dumb riffpunk stuff meant that there were times when it was difficult to figure out exactly what direction Xanadu were headed in. But they played each suit so perfectly that it swiftly became one of their most appealing features, that they could play covers as wild and dissonant as the Dead C's 'Sky' and as heart-rending as Olivia Newton-John's 'Xanadu' (which became their signature song for obvious reasons) was testament to just how well they fit together. The latter was a particularly inspired choice, and helps show how Xanadu perceived themselves. That was my favourite song when I was five years old. I just thought it was a really cool song.

XANADU

Feature by Duncan Greive Photo this page by Duncan Grieve, others by Blink Track 8: Candy

Luke Stemson, Bruce Wurr And Tim Lewton ALH#13-42

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Bruce Wurr

There was always a thing between these bands that do stuff to your head, and bands that do stuff to your soul. Those are the two things I was aware of, y'know there's music that seems good, and is 'cool', and music that you're not supposed to like, because it doesn't have cred, but it's just about embracing it, cuz you love it. It just seems more honest, I suppose. What do you think Luke? Stemson: Yep. Therein though lies another of Xanadu's problems. As Luke puts it, I was always more into the dumb punk stuff that we were doing, more so than the slower ballady things. While they were equally adept at both, the band were conscious of how they might jar against each other. Yeah, it was good to play different types of music, but it was also pretty frustrating. I mean, listening to some of our recordings and stuff, you wouldn't know it's the same band. And its fun to play that kind of music, but it has a flipside where it's a bit annoying, y'know? But as we progressed we got more to the point where there was a

melding of the two styles. That was always what we were trying to do, have elements of both in the songs that we played. But it's not that easy. It's lame to sit down and calculate how a song's supposed to be, the best songs just come out. Looking at Auckland's listings now, with any number of venues hosting shows throughout the week it seems difficult to imagine that early in the millennium there was just the Kings Arms, and that the number of bands around that were genuinely worth seeing could be counted on the fingers of one, at most two hands. So when a Xanadu show rolled round it was truly an occasion. Lewton has fond memories of the early gigs, and the bands they played alongside. Totally. Those bands were amazing, the music they were playing was really good, I have really fond memories of most of those shows. There was show that would be one of the best we ever played, one of the most fun to do. It was one with The Coolies and Fake Purr at the Kings Arms, and everyone was really amazing.

Somewhat shockingly, the only band to have kicked on of the three is the Coolies, and Xanadu, literally everyone's pick to go supernova, never even got a decent recording session down. Stemson: I think a lot of it was practicality:the actual physical limitations of what we had at our disposal. We did a lot of recording, but it just wasn't how we wanted it to be; we all wanted it to be as Hi-Fi as possible. Lewton: There were heaps of them. Even just live-to-airs and stuff. There would be times when we'd just record straight to tape-deck in our practice. But most of the time it was just hit and miss. Because we were just constantly trying to evolve, but also trying to be a band that played, that did shows, and we were always conscious of trying to get better, of trying to create something we were really happy with. But we were always doubling back, and we'd hit on it for a time, and then it wouldn't work. It was just crazy. There were some really frustrating times, but there were also really good times. I'm glad we did so many recordings, because we'll be able to get at least an album's worth of stuff we like. We could do a recording session of five songs, and they'd all be shit, except for one that was good, that we could use. Therein lies the core of Xanadu's problem. Kane Goulter, Xanadu's number one fan, and Stemson's replacement on bass says, Generally every recording experience was fucking terrible. Stemson calls it really frustrating and cites it as a factor in his leaving, while original drummer Bruce Wurr says it was pretty much a nightmare, not usually so bad for me. Wurr elaborates, I was generally able to get my part down pretty fast if we were recording individually first. The worst part was the rest of it, through Tim's inability to articulate what he really wanted. For the engineer as much as us. So, recordings were discarded when they were perfectly good, people got fucked off and resources wasted. Lewton's near obsessive nature caused problems throughout. Recordings that were perfectly serviceable by any rational standard were discarded, band photos

were never right, and his startlingly expressive voice was constantly fretted over. Because Xanadu were being subconsciously measured against heroes like Nirvana or the 3Ds their every move had to be just so. Eventually that fixation, when coupled with other factors, meant that they never moved at all. The first external proof that something was amiss came with Stemson's departure in August of 2002. He and Wurr were, according to Lewton really easy to play with, they play with lots of feeling, and their ability to handle the stylistic range and intensity of Xanadu was integral to their sound. But for Stemson, It had just run its course I think. By then it had been two years, and I just wanted to do other stuff apart from just being the bass player in a rock'n'roll band. And it was fucking hard work, really, cuz it was something we all had our hearts in. It was quite taxing, a lot of the time. In Goulter though, there seemed a perfect replacement. He was a huge fan of the band, was close friends with Lewton, knew the songs, and in Tim's words was just really into it. He was really committed to it. For a while it seemed perfect; they continued to play blinding shows to a by now sizable crowd, Goulter worked out well, and there was a new energy in the band. Recording remained an issue though, that hi-fi sound they wanted and needed was as elusive as ever. Xanadu was never like the other bands. Tim's introduction of a Korg keyboard gave a sound already underpinned by Wurr's motorik drumming an even more modern edge, and their songs started to have a keening, epic quality. Songs like 'Neon Nebula' and 'Silver City' showed a matchless emotional depth, and Tim's innate feel for a melody became ever more apparent. But they were songs which needed a real studio, that a 4 track could only do limited justice to, so when the chance to record in a proper studio came up it seemed like the band was right on the cusp.

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This guy approached us to do some recording in a really hi-tech studio for free. And we were like, Cool, yeah. So we went in, and we did just what we do normally when we play live and shit. And then we listened back to it and we realised how disjointed it was. Which is not to say that we couldn't have gone in there another day, and it could've been fine. The fact was that we went in there on that day, and it didn't work. When we went to practise that day we realised that it just seemed really tacky, to us, by our own standards. It just didn't gel. So we decided then that we were gonna have to get heaps better. Which meant we were gonna have to practise more, put in more time, do tours, play proper shows, and not play to our friends all the time. Just challenge ourselves. Because me and Kane hung out every day, we talked about how we felt about the band, and we wanted to try to really do it. Because Bruce wasn't there at the time we decided to talk to him about it. And he just said that he couldn't put in any more time than what he was already doing. Which to me, meant that we would stay the same and not get any better, but just play a show once a month. Or we could really focus on it. Bruce just couldn't do that, so he just split. Which was really sad, because Bruce is such a good drummer. Wurr's departure is remembered somewhat differently by the man himself: That was a very small part of it, but I had reached a point where I had decided I could not continue any longer. I had actually probably reached that point a while back, but was still trying to stick it out. When Tim mentioned that he wanted some more commitment it was impeccable timing that gave me a more graceful out but I still would have left anyway. However it had effectively been 23 years of not much fun, constant criticism, bordering on bullying. Tim also could not communicate what he wanted, and if you were unable to interpret what he was saying he would get really pissed off with you which was incredibly frustrating. He would say you were a part of the band but actively stop you from participating in anything other than practicing and gigs, even down to demanding I wear sunglasses at practise. At times it did seem very Spinal Tap.
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This difference of perception is common to all those who left Xanadu. While events are always going to be remembered differently, in this case it appears that on one side what is commonly perceived as a lack of commitment can also be seen as a reaction against what some saw as Lewton's autocratic style of running the band. Regardless it left the band at another crossroads, with a new focus, but no drummer. Steve Demiris appeared, and once again, things seemed on the right track. Tim: He was just totally, a hundred percent keen, he put in heaps of time, practised heaps, and we just did what seemed logical at the time. There were moments when we would play some of the songs that Luke, Bruce and myself wrote and it just didn't work, but other times we'd play our own new songs and it would really work. Despite a few months of the new line up continuing, including support slots for Sleater-Kinney's national tour, a new tension had arisen between Lewton and Goulter. I decided to leave in January, basically because Tim and I had fallen out as friends. Lack of creative input was not a problem initially, and only became one later when it had stopped being any fun. Because at first it had felt like we had such a good thing with Xanadu, it was so full of promise. But it became harder and harder to find that feeling again. Ultimately that was because of Tim, because he was a perfectionist, but also because he had so much self doubt. This was a death-knell for the band. Lewton had questioned Goulter's ability to commit to the band long-term prior to his joining, and his departure seemed particularly harsh in light of his earlier pronouncements on the issue: I said to him, 'I think you'll be really good for the band, but I've got this really worrying feeling that you're gonna do it for six months then you're gonna want to quit and do your own stuff.' And he goes 'Oh no, no no.' And that's exactly what he did. Which was pretty disappointing.

I didn't really understand it, but then I felt like that would happen anyway. I just thought, 'What the fuck's going on here? Maybe I'm doing something wrong.' Cuz you don't want to flog a dead fucking horse. Fuck that. Lewton and Demiris made some half-hearted attempts to recruit a new bassist, but it was clear the race was run, and within three years what had once seemed a dead cert was now effectively over with only a limited run EP as recorded evidence of their existence. Speaking to those involved, even now, 18 months after Xanadu's last show, the emotion is still palpable. Several mentioned that it was like breaking up with a girlfriend and it seems significant that with the exception of Wurr (whose Cat!Cat!Cat! will be featured in a later issue) and Kane who performed for a brief stint in Die! Die! Die!, None have been in another band since. The working title for this piece was 'The Broken Promise of Xanadu,' and for anyone around the band there are similar sentiments expressed. The very factors that ended up destroying Xanadu - the personal hang-ups and conflicting directions - were what made them so enthralling. That the band could play scouring, monstrous artpunk like 'Razor Light' or 'Sky' (the latter of which shows they were easily the equal of 'Crystalator'-era Dimmer) and then turn around and play a song as fragile 'Silver City' or 'Sad-Eyed Girl' is evidence of both the talent involved and the divergent musical paths they tried to follow. Perhaps the worst part is that there are no recordings available. That they could be so inspired but implode is one thing, it burns to this day, but to not even have a recording to recall their glory is lunacy. Thankfully it is about to be remedied, the band are putting the finishing touches to a CD which will compile tracks from their endless mire of recordings, their four live-

to-airs and some straight live tracks. I have had the cd for 3 days and have listened to little else. Trying to be objective is always somewhere between difficult

Kane Goulter and futile with Xanadu, such are the emotions they inspire, but it is a truly incredible album, and while they may never have attained the standards they desired, what they have achieved still holds its own against any music this country has ever produced. As Lewton says, A lot of the time when it went really well you didn't know why, and the same is true of when it turned sour. The music still stands, and if that's all we get, it's more than we deserve, as Xanadu at their peak were untouchable.
ALH#13-47

Darran

Every now and then it happens, you discover a band who have been right under your nose for ages. They've been around for a number of years, put out a couple of releases, but for one reason or another you'd never given them a listen. Then one day by chance you stumble across them and realise their music is right up your street. So up your street that they could be working at the corner dairy. I thought I had the Dead Pan Rangers pegged. I'd seen their cover for their album, We've Done So Much Good For So Many People with its little cowboy motif and immediately assumed they were an alt-country band. I even booked them to play at a show on the August A LOW HUM release tour in Hamilton under this assumption. However, instead of twangy guitars and twisted lyrics I was greeted with spatial guitars, downbeat grooves and epic indie soundtracks. Not pompous and overblown as Mogwai and Explosions in the Sky sometimes get, but more raw and jammy, like a gentler cousin of The Subliminals. The Rangers have been around in one form or another since 1997. Big fans of Scooby Doo, they were originally named Mystery Machine, hence a track called "If it weren't for you meddling kids" even made it onto their first album, "Danger Prone Daphne" however, never made the cut. Whilst recording their first EP they discovered a Canadian band also named Mystery Machine and as the EP evolved into an album, Mystery Machine evolved into The Dead Pan Rangers. I mean, even the name sounds like an alt-country band Surely you can't blame my honest mistake right? However there was no conscious effort to come up with a 'cowboy' type band name, it actually surfaced from a misheard conversation. The band one day were discussing another bands 'tempo changes', which guitarist Darran misheard and thought they were talking about 'dead pan rangers'. A fitting way of discovering the name really when the tempo of this band strikes you more then anything else when hearing them. When listening to the We've Done So Much album, it's almost as if every track were recorded at the same BPM. The album ebbs and flows, but there is always a constant groove that drives the whole album. This does

not sound like a confused band unsure of their direction and influence, but a secure, cohesive unit. Even though they've been around for nearly eight years, they've played very sporadically, playing only once or twice early on. Mike and Darran have had their share of drummer problems, having been though at least eight of them. They found themselves in the problematic position of playing, building up a good following and then having to stop playing for six months only to begin again. The Dead Pan Rangers face the same problem many bands face in New Zealand in that unless you're on the radio its difficult to build your profile beyond a certain level. Their epic tracks aren't likely to find their way onto commercial radio anytime soon, so overseas is a necessity for this band who have a firm belief and commitment to playing to new people. They've had interest from a German label and are planning to visit London and Europe in February 2005. It's no wonder that The Rangers are definitely a "studio" band having had their fair share of releases. They are currently putting the finishing touches on their new EP and looking forward to beginning work on their 3rd album. While they enjoy playing live, the members of the band don't so much enjoy the attention when performing. Darran in particular shys from the attention of onlookers by pulling a hat down over most of his face. Singer/bass player Mike tells me about his favourite gig of all time: playing at Barbarellas in Rotorua. For those who haven't seen it, the stage is set out in a weird L shape with part of the stage hidden from the audience. Darran remembers this show fondly, as the crowd couldn't actually see him. We've Done So Much Good For So Many People is one of those albums you can listen to whatever mood you are in. It's one of the few albums that I really found myself struggling to decide which track to choose for the compilation. There are no "singles" on the album; most of the tracks are sprawling in nature and follow similar themes to the track on this CD. While there are no songs that stand out, there is no filler either. It's a solid album and if you like the sound of Alpha Bits, chances are, like me, you'll dig everything on

THE DEAD PAN RANGERS

Feature and photos by Blink Track 10: Alpha Bits

Bevan ALH#13-48

Mike

ALH#13-49