Craig Stephen on a recent Leather Jacket Records compilation / retrospective …
Riot 111 were a band
created by politics, discord and violence. Their origins lay in the protests
and brutality of the anti-Springbok tour movement of 1981 which divided the country in
two.
The quartet left the meagre
sum of two singles, as well as an appearance on a compilation album of
Wellington bands. All of these records have been virtually impossible to find
over the past few years, and punters have had to stump up ludicrous sums to
opportunistic sellers to get their hands on that vinyl.
And yet, they left a
legacy as one of the very few politically dedicated bands that have come out of
New Zealand – Herbs are probably the only other I can think of but in a very
different style and method. Kiwi musicians notoriously avoid any whiff of
confrontation.
(Blogger’s note: I strongly
disagree with this. Herbs and Riot 111 were the mere tip of a rather large political
iceberg, and I may feel triggered enough to write a detailed response to Craig’s
assertion at some point) …
Thankfully, right
before Christmas a collection, simply titled 1981, was issued in a limited
run. It rounded up Riot 111’s entire recorded output, using newly-discovered
master tapes.
There was no end of
inspiration when they formed – the Springbok rugby tour occurred at a time when
South Africa was isolated in sporting circles due to the apartheid system. The
tour exposed the ugly, racist, redneck upper belly of New Zealand. On one side were
those who wanted the tour halted in solidarity with Nelson Mandela and the ANC;
on the other side those who naively believed that politics and sport never
should mix – or who just didn’t want to know.
Into this heated
environment came Riot 111 to stir the pot a bit more. Were they even a musical
group? Not according to “singer” Void who declared: “We’re not a band, we’re a
terrorist organisation.”
So, he penned ‘1981’, released
as a single with an anarcho-punk collage cover that would have infuriated those
the band wanted to infuriate: Hitler kicked a rugby ball as Prime Minister
Robert Muldoon applauded and the All Blacks did an unchoreographed haka. This
also forms the cover of the album without any obvious tweaks, while the back of
that 7” - featuring police in riot gear - is replicated on the album’s rear.
The single is an (ahem)
riotous agit-punk blend of aggressive lyrics, ruthless guitar playing and tribal
drumming based around the famous ‘ka mate’ haka, and fused with the South
African freedom chant Amandla. It is incendiary and provocative in the context
of the winter of discontent that the sporting tour wrought on the country.
The 90-second B-side ‘Go
Riot’ is hilarious. There’s no actual music, just a Germanic, hectoring voice
ordering a cackling Muldoon to proceed with the contentious tour, and
afterwards, distract the population with a royal tour. It then cuts into some
mimicking of rugby-loving redneck boofheads.
1982 was an eventful
year for Riot 111. They began by supporting The Fall, and at an anti-nuclear
gig in Wellington they only managed to play one song as the “move move move” chant
on ‘Move To Riot’, which replicates that of the police at protests, literally
moved the crowd to riot with Void forced to dodge beer bottles launched at the
stage.
The text accompanying
the album tells of a stoush between the band and TVNZ which refused to air the
video for ‘Writing On The Wall’ from the second single and reproduces the
letter from the head of entertainment in full. In it, Tom Parkinson wrote that
he thought the song was poor, the musicianship below standard and “the clip is
very passe, poorly made and has little merit”. Not only that but he objected to
the inference of police violence. So much for freedom of speech.
Riot 111 comprised
vocalist John Void (later just Void), drummer Roger Riot (formerly Roger Allen,
a mild-mannered public servant from Wellington’s northern suburbs), guitarist
Nick Swan and Mark Crawford on bass. Allen describes Void as having an immense
stage presence in his plastic riot helmet, actual police baton and leather
trousers or kilt.
‘Move To Riot’ is the
most musical of all the tracks and returns to the theme of police repression
with Void shouting through a tannoy imitating a police officer breaking up a
demonstration. “I am the law, I am order, you have no rights, scum!” Other “officers”
abuse and mock the protesters, ie “Did you fucking swear at me?”. As Void
speeds up the “move move move” order the atmosphere becomes ugly. Void as “chief
officer” says: “I have a gun in the car and I’d love to blow you away” and the
song ends in women screaming, glass smashing and people being bashed.
Some tracks don’t have
quite the same impact, eg, ‘Escape Or Prison’ is largely an over-played drone lasting
an excessive seven-and-a-half minutes. Perhaps with studio time and an
empathetic producer behind them Riot 111 could have unleashed a colossal debut
album that would have left an indelible mark on the New Zealand music scene.
While all eight tracks
released under the band’s name are included on 1981!, I feel an opportunity has
been lost. Surely, those master tapes also included alternative takes and demos
of songs that were played at gigs but not actually formally released?
By 1984 Riot 111 were
no more. Right-wing skinheads were gatecrashing the gigs and causing violence
driving many fans away. Void became an actor in Australia.
Their existence was
brief and output meagre but they left a legacy that has never been matched in
this country.
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