10 YEARS ON

Rip It Up, Issue 119, 1 June 1987, Page 19

10 YEARS ON

A Look Through Our Back Pages

By

CHRIS BOURNE

June, 1977: In America, Elvis Presley gives his final concert. In London, police raid a Sex Pistols gig and Johnny Rotten is slashed by a knife-wielding fan. In Wellington, Muldoon begins to assert his power with a controversial SIS bill and a National party old boy for Governor-General. In Auckland,

bundles of a new music paper modestly called Rip It Up appear on record shop floors.

And so, in this year of anniversaries, it’s our turn. On the cover of that first issue, FREE ROCK PAPER in giant letters all but obscured the blurry black-and-white picture of the Commodores. Ten years later, that claim seems taken for granted, but even more extraordinary. Inside, news of the latest Sex Pistols’ exploits were given equal space with changes in lOcc’s lineup. For despite what its critics — and fans — might have once thought, RIU was never a punk paper. From that Commodores’ cover to Ardijah on No 119, all a music paper can really do is reflect the spirit of its age, and hopefully encourage the best of what’s available.

From the beginning, that’s meant a large proportion of New Zealand content. To those growing up watching television and listening to the radio in the mid-70s, ignorant of Hot Licks and Split Enz, it seemed the only local music about was John Hanlon and Mark Williams. Rip It Up featured Williams on the cover of its second issue, "How a No 1 Record Doesn’t Solve All Your Problems,” but the magazine’s New Zealand commitment was made easier with the swift growth of live bands and recordings in the wake of Hello Sailor and the DIY punk ethic. The first issue brought news of the Hello Sailor debut album, and the opening of a “new style” of venue, the Island of Real — two significant moments in our recent musical history. Plus, news that Split Enz had recruited

Neil Finn: "A very talented young lad,” wrote Eddie Raynor, “only 18 years old, who we are going to mould and lovingly shape.”

At least half-a-dozen waves can be determined by reading 10

years of Rip It Up. While the early issues seemed like a

continuation of Hot Licks, with their championing of Split Enz and Little Feat, they also reflect the conflict in the change to the new order. Rough Justice and

Schtung would have to move over for the Scavengers and the Suburban Reptiles. For me, the pivotal moment of transition was the day Auckland’s art school punks came to Wellington, when the psuedo-Pistols (the Reptiles) obliterated the psuedo-Santana of Living Force. But what was punk? RIU cub reporter Mike Chunn asked Billy Planet of the Suburban Reptiles: "I don’t know,” he said. “The

Auckland Punks!

ReplHw V<ni ” rg >nd Th Suburb Auckland University Cafe Saturday 16th July The dance at the Varsity cafe featuring the Scavengers and the Suburban Reptiles was notable not only for the' beer and urine on the floor, but for a more interesting aspect (this is of course based on the long term al- ~ Potential. I m not talking about the potential of the groups; they have little, and I myself would prefer them to have none. No . . . there was audience potential, and although on this occasion there were too few people. not enough hot tempers, not enough volume etc. ter spark the crowd, it will happen soon. - ' If you are the sort who is sick of the Shut up and listen concerts or the Oh, how do you do and ' Shirt ' oubT'meT ,rakin Pi ' hed dubs and Pubs, then your presence .at a Scavs and Reptiles do ,s probably what you ctnd they, need. 1 R» T nm Scaven 9® rs are a four piece, the ®P t,les . a SX The Scavengers were more straightforward, very unpolished. out of tune and hectic. The Reptiles sounded, better, were more

Sunday News seems to know what punk is.” Jeremy Templer wrote in RIU 5: “While punk rock has undoubtedly been accepted as part of a reaction against the mechanical discipline of disco music, its importance lies in its emergence as a marketable fashion. Its password is a surrender to primalism. But this could be the early 60s: the music is once more outrageous, but it’s also antagonistic, creating its own tension, dividing, sometimes conquering. And the kids areexcited.” First of all, however, punk had to usurp disco, and it was two years before the beast was fought off. As with any genre, disco had its moments, but the monster seemed so gross at the time, it was difficult for the uninitiated to hearthem. “I certainly would not knock an album because mention is made of that five-letter word disco, or because I cannot boogie," Murray Cammick bravely admitted in issue five. By September 1978, 140,000

together and extraordinarily out of tune Billy Boots (bass) and Buster otix (drums) were a pile-driving unit that could go on to greater things. The others suffered from the selfconscious bug but. with a couple of cans on the head, that should sort itself out.

on There was ' one major disappointment I didn't want to hear songs by he Damned, early Who and Sex Pistols but l got them all, and so any real down-to-earth flavour was lost. With this standard of music, there is no need for ccver-versions — stick to your own stuff, lads, as it s more direct and with your confidence should drive through much better. On the by. the music should have been twice as loud ... it should have been deafening I have one scene that summed up the night for me. A lawyer, from Kohi went along to the cafe after a pleasant evening at a Parnell hotel. During the Reptiles, he spat most of his beer on the heads of unfortunates and the beer that did make it to his person was released in a great torrent onto the cafe floor. Aesthetically, it was nothina spectacular — but it had potential. Mike Chunn mp TOp

New Zealanders had bought

Saturday Night Fever, and RIU succumbed with a disco special. Francis Stark entered the Double M Disco (now Abby’s) for a piece of social anthropology: "The real object doesn’t seem to be to dance — instead the people are there to practice social mobility ... At the heart of the crowd are those who look like they are waiting for Central Casting to call them up for their role in Is it Wednesday Yet?" Writers and

musicians picked their disco

favourites, Harry Lyon ‘Disco Duck,’ William Dart ‘Macho Man,’ Duncan Campbell ‘Flashlight.’

Stark picked the übiquitous ‘Boogie Nights’ — “I started out putting it on juke boxes to annoy hippies and grew to love it. I even learned the actions off the TV clip.”

Despite many live venues turning to discos (a never-ending battle, it seems) by early ’7B an upturn in the live scene was

noticed. "Auckland’s beginning to fill up again with working bands.

Punk Rock — • The New Wave in Godzone it really fuchs me off the way everybody is saying punk this and punk that when this is one of the first times P« been ked .X ; u „k is, to me. And I'm the amger m Ute Scavs. 1 mean how can they know until a Punk tells them? What annoys me the most is the attitude of the Press. I mean specifically those guys from Rip it Up. They’re going round saying oh well I don’t known whether we should do anything on Punk’. Oh well fock it’s not their joTto decide whether Punk is -’evantoc * scateboarding is more important they re supposed to be writing a music P«P« . and Punk is the most important new mus * come along in ages. They even told me once that one of their top writers * d anything on New Zealand bands - I mean, shh - we got some of the best talent around in New Zealand, it’s no wonder they donige nowhere with a musical press with an attitude like that." 77 J.F.K. ‘THIRD EAR’ SEPT 77

Hello Sailor probably started it... going to the pub means more than showing off your new jeans and halter top.” As with any music mag, RIU has had its series of great Kiwi hopes: Split Enz, Sailor, Citizen Band, Toy Love, Swingers,

Screaming Meemees, Newmatics, through to Dave Dobbyn, the Chills and Ardijah, as well as overseas favourites: Elvis Costello, Springsteen, and especially Graham Parker — and sounded bitter when radio stations or record companies didn’t show the same enthusiasm. “In Christchurch, 3ZB played a live’ Graham Parker show at the same time as the concert, advertised as ‘lf you can’t afford the real thing.’ So you can see what we’re up against with radio in this part of the woods"... “Did you hear about Polygram flying 80 people around in a DCIO to promote the new Bee Gees album? What’s wrong with recording a local band instead and let the Bee Gees sell themselves?” The local band scene got off the ground so quickly that, in a

pivotal issue (No 21), five new bands were featured on the cover (“Name the band members and WIN a night at home with yourself!”): Toy Love, Johnny and the Hookers (“They dislodge fillings at 20 paces, toupees at 50” — Terence Hogan), the

Terrorways, Gary Havoc and the Hurricanes, and Sheerlux. RIU sponsored a “Meet the Boys” night in which the

bandmembers discussed the scene. It was like a mutual

admiration society, though Sheerlux, absent from the meeting, received some flak: “Bands like Sheerlux don’t have magic,” said Chris Knox. “They can do conjuring tricks, but it’s all to a formula. Misex are an

even better example. Steve Gilpin has even admitted that he just looked around for what was

happening and then did it. If it had been jazz-rock then he’d be into that now.”

From his earliest gig with the Enemy (whose first gig was

reviewed in No 7) Knox was an identity. In the same issue as Toy Love's first review appeared (“Furious promise”) was a curious letter by “Mrs McLean” of Otahuhu: “How can you promote this obscene rubbish [the Enemy] when your pages could be devoted to all the wonderful talent we have in this lovely country like Toy Love and John Hore.” Very soon, Knox wouldn’t have to write letters to gain

attention. The new era had taken hold. In May, 1979, Peter Kennedy of Rough Justice spoke for many when he said, “Twelve months ago we were considered ragers. Now they think we’re laid back. That’s punk rock, I suppose. But what can we do? None of us are into new wave.” Barry Jenkin, who in issue three had prescribed Little Feat and Steely Dan, saying “There’s not a hell of a lot to English punk rock, with its chord after chord,” was now a cult hero as Dr Rock. In late ’79 Roy Colbert

Live Screaming Blam-matic Roadshow University, lulu 27 The much-touted Screaming Blam-mahc tour hit Dunedin at the end of last month and left a few new fans and revised opmmns. Post-gig opinion, especially from the young punks was that the Meemees earned the night. They were the S m°% and Since 1 laSt saw them (Sweetwaters) they've made big improvements in the musicianship department, and their songs, although still and ß an j r’ iVely ' are neater an d ore definable. Still a fan the Newmatics, two saxophomsts in tow, are NZ’s ska clones and on the night they had to work hard to regain los? momentum caused through a

observed Toy Love’s triumphant return to Dunedin: “Knox asks the crowd if they’d like to know about the Auckland scene. Derision drowns him out. He sticks a safety pin in his cheek.” By that time, Toy Love had received a rave review from the NME for their explosive debut ‘Rebel/Squeeze.’ At home, critics had stopped reviewing local records apologetically long before, and by 1980 the era of the single was underway. Although that was the year that Hello Sailor, Th’ Dudes and Toy Love split, the live scene was

broken guitar string. Lead singer Mark Clare with his Dexys' jacket, injected all'he had into an on-the-spot shank that moved the audience physically but failed to reach the soul. On a good night I'm sure they can hold their own but this time out they missed. Revised opinion time. Blam olam Blam at Sweetwaters were too precious and selfconsciously artful to let themselves rock'n'roll. That-criticism no longer applies. In the Union they gave a performance rich with ideas and excitement their songs are now durable, bare they still owe their rent to the Gang of Four and other academics, but they've trained her muic into an intelligent and locally relevant toughness. Best of the night, minority opinion. 9 7 George Kay AUGUST'BI

booming (a 50-yard queue for a Streettalk Gluepot gig — by 6.30 pm!) and an extraordinary number of 7” gems were released (plus MP Marilyn Waring’s cover of Lennon’s ‘Working Class Hero’). In May alone, the singles column reviewed the Swingers' ‘One Good-Reason,’ Toy Love’s ‘Don’t Ask Me,’ Crocodiles’ ‘Tears,’ Graham Brazier’s ‘Six Piece Chamber,’ Th’ Dudes’ ‘Bliss,’ Streettalk, the Terrorways (on Ripper), Spelling Mistakes’ ‘Feel So Good,’ Features’ ‘City Scenes’ — the latter two on new indie Propeller, which was to prove a key element in the next wave. It had been predicted as far back as July, 1979, when a letter from the North Shore said: “RIU, you’re all old men. You don’t believe young bands can do it, do you? ... Well us young bands are coming! (PS: I’ll drop into the RSA next month and help ya with the next issue.)" Appropriately, the first mention of the Screaming Meemees, in November 1980, was when they were co-billed at the Spelling Mistakes’ final gig at XS. “On that note,” wrote Karen Stevens, “ended the last of the second wave of punk bands. You gotta move with the times ... The Meemees dislike labels, but agree to having their music

In the 1980 reader's poll, the Toy Love album put Split Enz’ True Colours in second place. Mid ’Bl saw the Swingers’ ‘Counting the Beat’ being the fastest No 1 in Australia since ‘Daddy Cool’ in 1971, and Dave Dobbyn’s "Divers” playing the Rumba Bar: “After ‘Lipstick

Power,’ could fame be on its

way?” From Flying Nun Records came its first release, by the Clean: “’Tally Ho’ cost SSO to make and it sounds a bit that way,” said Roy Colbert. Propeller, meanwhile, was peaking with the Screaming

Blamatic Roadshow and RlU’s first colour covers, made possible by the “I’d love a beer" campaign and Jim Beam. In

Dunedin, said George Kay, “The Chills showed Penknife Glides and Danse Macabre the value of good songs over professional presentation” — an alternative criticism being levelled by Don Mac Kay at the Australian bands at Sweetwaters. “But New

Zealand bands have gotten too head up the bum about

credibility and artiness, and unless they recapture the art of showmanship they will have their home market stolen from under their noses.” More New Zealand bands than ever were touring, but in March 1982 grim days were being

described as post-beat psychedelia. Screaming Meemees are moving with the times."

By the next issue, the Propeller wave had started: Blam Blam

Blam were pictured, and the Newmatics came third (to Hattie and the Hotshots) in the Battle of the Bands. Mark Phillips, reviewing December’s North Shore Spectacular at XS, wrote: “Auckland’s North Shore is

rapidly becoming the city’s new mecca for aspiring young bands. The Meemees are rapidly developing a following that could see 1981 being their year. It’s not hard to see why they’ve become the darlings of the North Shore set.”

4 5 s Screaming Meemees See Me Go (Propeller) This is already a genuine number one, and it has been exposed on radio and TV, so you've no excuse for not making up your own mind about it. After their part in the Bia ma tic Roadshow tour, many of you should have seen them on stage, too. The question that occurs to me is, which is the real Meemees? The studio cuts seem to communicate little of the intense drive that make the Meemees New Zealand's hottest teen act. Listen to them live at Mainstreet on the 12-inch and you'll see what they are capable of. The Clean

Tallyho (Flying Nun) The Clean bring back the Jansen Transonic sound in what could well be a tribute to the Simple Image, and the days when a local record could be number one for six weeks. 'Tallyho' stands with the early Toy Love as an argument for Dunedin as New Zealand's home of the pure pop melody. The flip, Platypus' seems to feature vocals from a volunteer from the audience. Francis Stark SEPT 'Bl

predicted for the new-found “industry.” Murray Cammick: “The last few years in Auckland rock and roll have been a lot of fun and many have grown accustomed to getting their live music highs in sweaty pubs listening to neat NZ songs. Going to Logan Campbell Centre to watch the often tired, perfunctory performances by visiting stars can be tedious work compared with the privilege of being there as good songs are knocked into shape by one of several of the best local bands. So why are so many people saying, ‘lt’s not exciting anymore?" Among the reasons mooted

Herbs, French letter (Warrior) A soothing Scuth seas calypso beat as in sipping rum and coke under a palm tree until antinuclear lyrics hit you - hke falling coconut - this ,s a protest song Side Two is a longer dub version. Great production. Dance Exponents Victoria (Mushroom) 'Victoria' is irritatingly catchy. Starts slowly with plenty of space and builds in classic manner. Very melodic. Hip, 'Can't Kiss the Lips of a Memory' provides a good antidote. Mark Phillips AUG 82

Tall Dwarfs Louie Likes His Daily Dip (Flying Nun) P Once Chris and Alec were pop stars recording artists or whatever. But now Chris is a producer doing more with four tracks than those with 20 more. Songs take a backseat to sounds. There's no bf«c sheet but theres a 'how we did it sheet. The guitar sound on May Be and Pictures' is so live, if ya didn t know they were tall you d think they were in the speakers. My fave sounds? There are lots to choose from, well, ahh the psychedelic guitar on Song of i.'ix ent r' umm ' there's so many. Its like a funny iadio show, there's talk too. Tome' is rap. Chris knows you don't have to be black to waffle. Recommended. Murray Cammick SEPT ’B2

was Propeller's (eventually crippling) shift from singles to albums, and, that age-old problem, “No innovative young bands are coming through because there are no underage venues,” said Propeller’s Simon Grigg. “The Auckland music scene will be in a sorry state by later this year if no inventive bands emerge.” The answer conveniently arrives at the next issue (May ’82): a South Island special with the Clean on the cover. “Auckland is very quiet,” said Doug Hood. “There are one or two interesting younger bands but it seems to be very stagnant. Whereas it

seems to be the opposite in the South Island. Lt seems to be

thriving, it’s great.” With the nowlegendary TEAC, Hood and Chris Knox had just recorded the fourband Dunedin double EP. "For the Clean,” wrote Michael Higgins, “the Enemy are the past in

Dunedin. They got things moving. Other exports, Mother Goose and the Knobz, are embarrassments and best left unmentioned.”

Rip It Up was now five years old; Herbs’ ‘French Letter’ and the Dance Exponents’ ‘Victoria’ were released, and Russell Brown made his entrance reviewing a Clean/Exponents double bill: “The Clean are not entertainers, they play pop music without smiling. The Dance Exponents are entertainers. Rock and roll cliches sit under them like platform heels. They could step down from them and still be the Dance Exponents.” Longevity, said Eddie Raynor and Andy Narc in RIU 60, was the key; Split Enz were on that cover, and Graham Brazier and Harry Lyon, making a comeback as the

Legionnaires, on the next. The

Certain Bar disco was attracting Auckland’s new romantics; there were still two dozen major local bands for Sweetwaters ’B3.

Murray Cammick, reviewing the Tall Dwarfs’ ‘Louie ...’ said “Chris Knox is doing more with four

tracks than those with 20 more,” but letter-writer David Cohen

didn’t agree: "Chris Knox is to the arts what cannibalism is to

missionary work.” Whereas once Rip It Up had to make do with cover stories from press conference interviews, or worse, cut and paste essays, now

it was offered exclusives: Marianne Faithfull, Joni Mitchell, Malcolm McLaren, Talking Heads. Locally, people began to talk about capturing a “New Zealand sound” — “In a year of much talk of indigineous music and Pacific culture, Diatribe and Herbs pay more than lip service.” George Kay awarded 1983’s “Best Con” as "A tie between the Nares, Auckland Walk, all Wellington bands (except the Pelicans), Coconut Rough, Legionnaires.” ’Arry awarded Russell Brown, who in 12 months had made quite an impact, the “Special I Brought Foot and Mouth from Timaru to Auckland Shield.”

By 1984 the touring circuit had stagnated and the Party Boys introduced a safe concept that was to be well-milked in the coming years by the likes of the Kuhtze Band: old faces, old songs. But Looney Tours mounted an ambitious “End of the World Before it Happens” package tour with the Chills, Children's Hour, the Double Happys and Expendables. Also, New Zealand had its two biggest pop idols since the 60s; 3000 people attended the Dance Exponents’ “farewell” show at Logan Campbell with the Mockers.

The issue I feel Rip It Up can be proudest of came out that December, after the Aotea Square debacle. With just three days till the magazine went to press, and with a severe hangover, Russell Brown produced the most objective,

honest account of the evening when police and punter ran riot. While other papers hysterically looked for sociological causes, RIU printed a half-page photo by Bryan Staff of a peaceful crowd, taken the moment the police moved in.

In “Famous Last Words” a transcript taken from a Walkman recording (by Los Angeles’ NZ music fan Ron Kane) of the

concert gave a gripping account of the run of events: Dave

Dobbyn will regret one sentence he uttered at Aotea Square for the rest of his life. ‘I wish those riot squad guys would stop

wanking and put their little batons away.’ ” He then tried to encourage the crowd to ignore the disturbance at the back, and keep on enjoying the music.

When the music was stopped,