THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR INTERVIEW

Rip It Up, Issue 3, 1 August 1977, Page 8

THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR INTERVIEW

By John Malloy

Rock musicians keep unusu at hours. Or so editor, Alasiair Dougai, and cub reporter, John Malloy, wereto find when they tracked Dave .McArtney and Graham Brazier (of Kelt? Sailor) down to their hideout a 1 disused fallout shelter in 4- . V.’?.:-' . •»..• ' - -••■’ *' . ••...«. -S-■• .V .•' •■. •• .•• •*•-• Newton. There, amid the vicious-noise of the relentless Sunday traffic, they taped the interview that was to appear below. But it was not to be. Our heroes de-

parted in their converted MIG, (the words Rip ft Off emblazoned in gold upon the fuselage). But both were instantly when their plane shattered against the side of alow-flying DC 10. Only desperate efforts by a team of top surgeons saved the last remnants of tape, reconstructed using the newest and most expensive technology. So, with fingers up our noses, we bring you . .«■■■■

For them what don ! know, Hello Sailor are a rock band. In fact, they re a rock n' roll band in the classic mould: a two guitar, bass and drums line-up, fronted by singer/saxophonist Graham Brazier. Auckland based, they’ve been playing round the country for about two years, in which time their music has changed, as has their personnel. Their guitarists. Harry Lyon and Dave McArtney, play complementary parts with an ease that comes from long hours of playing together, while the rhythm section of Lyle Kinney on bass and Ricky Ball on drums provide that essential solid foundation. The music is an eclectic collection of songs with such diverse influences as reggae, latin music and British rock; while their original material is so much a part of their act that their audience take it for granted. Their single, “Gutter Black” backed with “Latin Lover”, has been getting a lot of airplay lately, and they have a soon-to-be-released album in the can for Key records. And, right now they're hot.

Can you first tell me about the beginnings of the band? Dave McArtney Well, for a start, Graham and I were living in a house in Ponsonby with a whole lot of people, playing acoustic music just for our own enjoyment, and we had the odd gig together: writing all our own songs. I’d known Harry years ago we played in a band together once and he appeared back on the scene, playing in a band called Beam. He used to come along, and gradually we got a lot of gear together and started playing. So, we just decided to form a band. There was just the three of us for a start. We started off playing our own music really, and we searched around for a few suitable cover versions but not with the idea of working. We just wanted to play, at firs* Then we decided to take it seriously and we got the band together and rehearsed for a couple of months, and it just took off. We played at Napier, came back, and played a gig at Dunlop’s Gym. That’s in Grey Lynn a really old colonial place with a boxing ring. What were you doing for jobs at that time? DM Well, up till then I’d been a gardener. Harry had been a professional musician for about a year. Graham was a gardener, dustman, and a few other things. See, Beam sort of broke up, and I joined them but we didn’t play anywhere. It broke up after a week, and then we got Graham in, and then the rhythm section left. We just rehearsed with two guitars and a bass, Harry and I swapping round on bass, and then we got a drummer (which was Graham Turner). Then Beam’s bass player joined us for a couple of months. Then, we got another guy filling in for a couple of weeks (Bob Taylor he plays with Larry Morris now), and then we got Andy McDonald out of Streettalk. He stayed for about six months, and then we got our present bass player. How do you find working around New Zealand without a manager? DM No trouble. Probably the reason we’ve gone so long without a manager is that some of the guys in the band Harry, and recently, Rick have\had a lot of experience in things like that, so they can handle that side well. Because you need to be quite firm in what sort of money you want, y’know? In New Zealand there’s lots of different sorts of promoters. There’s honest ones, and friendly ones, and there’s ones that won’t pay you, and there’s

ones that’ll pay you in advance. You really need experienced people. And also you need someone to represent you. You can’t really represent yourself. You can’t go along and say, “They’re a reaJly good band, really shit hot, you wanna hire us!” But we seem to have survived all right without one. We’d like one now. There's lots of things to handle now. There s lots of dealing with record company people, and things like that. At the moment you are doing a lot of fairly solid rock material. Does this reflect the needs of your audiences? DM Yeah it does. You gotta project energy. You can’t project it in a pub playing more introverted material, which is what we started off doing. On the album we’ve got coming out there are a few numbers like that. We’ve got quite a mixture. Not all of it is danceable material though. When did you start making the album? Graham Brazier About two months ago. We spent a week in there and a week out, depending on how the studio was booked. If it was free we’d be in there from eight thirty till five. That’s a long time to spend in the studio. GB Specially when you gotta go and play that night. Did you have much trouble getting the sound the way you wanted it? DM I don’t think it ever sounds how you want it. There’s always something wrong with it. What’s the point of releasing an album in New Zealand? GB Hope like shit it goes to Australia. That’s the only point. If it doesn't you’re gonna see it in a junk shop in two weeks time. DM If you’re a band writing your own material, it’s good to get an album out. It’s good to do. The single is more promotional. The album is sort of the art form of rock ’n’ roll getting a good forty minutes of music. Would you like to go to Australia? DM Yeah. We’d like to go to Australia, but under the right conditions guaranteed work. We’d like to have at least two albums behind us before we go, really, and a good single so that you can go there and get pushed. If you just go there like Dragon, you have to start from the bottom again, and it takes three years. But we don't wanna go before we’re ready.

GB We’d like to stop work for a coupla months and just get a good act together. I think the thing in New Zealand is that you have to play too long. They don’t sort of concentrate on quality. Especially in clubs. A club expects you to play from ten till three in the morning. In Australia they’ve got so many bands, they can afford to have three a night, whereas here they get one band. That’s why bands don’t last very long in New Zealand. They get stuck in the same club for six months or so, playing every night from Wednesday to Saturday, ten till three. By the end of that time, they’re sick of each other, sick of the club, sick of the people around them. Is it any better touring around New Zealand? GB Yeah. Much better. It’s a new sort of thing all the time. You seem to have a big enough following now to do what you want. DM We need to be doing a little more in that direction now. We’re just making that transition, I suppose, from playing what we have to, to playing what we want to play. I think that a lot of songs we do that are originals, people don’t know it. They find out eventually. There’s nothing worse than some smartass standing up there saying, “here's one we wrote last week’’. Personally, that irks me. Some of the most popular songs over the last five years have been versions of songs that are already established . . . even people like Bowie. There’s an album that a friend of mine’s got, that’s taken live in Berkeley, and he doesn’t do one of his own songs. And it’s really good. It doesn’t bother you doing cover versions? GB No. I quite enjoy them as long as I like that particular song. But if we were in the position where we only played two hours a night we could dp all originals. Then you’d have to go overseas. There's not many promoters in New Zealand. GB There’s two categories. There’s people that have the general interest but no money, and there’s people that have money but no interest. DM There’s not that rapport between the bands and the promoters in New Zealand. The bands aren’t expected to do much but play. If you’re talking about the commercial side it’s a whole package really putting on an act. GB To do it really successfully in New Zealand once you'd established the name you’d have to go and hide for two months, just disappear, to create the demand. Whereas overseas, you just play another town. DM We still feel like a working band. We just haven’t got much time to really do something and we wish we did. And this is what we expectto be doing a lot between this album and the next one. GB We've had two weeks off in two and a half years, and even that was not time off. We were still having to fix up work for the next month. DM The place is just not big enough really. In fact, the dealings we’ve had in Christchurch have been far more professional. Like they try, and they really look after you, and you’re presented, and you get your reaction

from that. The pressure’s on us to really perform down there, so we do it. But up here we're playing five weeks in the Globe . . . it’s really hard to maintain that special thing. People enjoy it at the Globe at the moment, but more often than not we re not feeling quite up to it, just from the pressure of playing every night. The buzz happens, say, nine o'clock every night, from then on. But we've been playing since half past seven to just a few people, getting up set after set. The whole thing with music is: you ve got to project, and if you’re feeling bad you can’t, and the audience will pick up on that. That’s why there’s this big thing built up around rock music roadies and managers it’s very cleverly worked out. GB Most of the promoters or would-be promoters that have approached us have had all the ideas for making it big but they’ve had no experience or financial backing. DM See, we've spent our thousands. We’ve got twenty thousand dollars worth of gear. You’re getting a return on it in the long run. After all, it’s what we wanna do. There’s great restrictions in this country. I can see us hitting the top, bouncing off, and just going down again. A lot of bands do that. There’s no incentive. GB Anybody that’s good goes to Australia. But if they get good here and don’t go anywhere, they just stop. Negativity sets in. They start off here as tadpoles, and as soon as they turn into frogs, they hop off to Australia. DM We don’t really want to do a theatrical thing. We just want to do a set that covers all the music we can do. We did a couple of concerts recently and we really enjoyed that, just doing two-hour shows. It has taken us a long time to work up to where we can really play a steady stream of rock and roll. I think that’s because of all the changes in lineup. We’ve had four bass players and two drummers, and a lot of numbers have been ditched. In the beginning, we had a lot more energy than we had a couple of months ago. But we’ve got the energy back now. You’ve really got the Globe sewn up. GB Well, we were the first band that ever played there. We built the stage just out of pallets and boxes. What sort of stuff do you listen to? DM Well now, I just listen to Al Green mostly. When I’m listening to music it’s usually late at night or early in the morning. GB I really like the thing that Bowie’s doing, and I like Iggy Pop, DM And that sort of new rhythm n blues, like Graham Parker. Who does all the writing? DM Graham and meself really. Harry does a bit. We write together sometimes. We’re just starting to, actually. What’s “Concrete Jungle’’ based on? GB Urban frustrations. ,Do you have a statement about punk rock, or would you rather not talk about it? GB l think it’s really good. If I was young enough I'd be a punk rocker. DM We were punks when we started. Punk rockers. GB I’d like to see Kiri te Kanawa wearing black leather, PVC, and safety pins.