New Zealand Music Month, AudioCulture, and All That Jazz ...

New Zealand Music Month has its critics. For many it represents little more than an inward-looking self-indulgent “pat-on-the-back” fest, and I understand that argument without necessarily buying into it. My own point of view is that NZ Music Month comes from a good place, has good intent, and if we – as New Zealanders – don’t celebrate this stuff, then nobody else will. It’s easy to forget that it wasn’t all that long ago we had to introduce quotas just to ensure New Zealand music was played on local radio. 

For this May’s annual celebration of New Zealand Music Month, I’m posting a series of classic (and some not so classic) local music clips on the blog’s Facebook page. You can check out the page and perhaps even give it a 'like' or a 'follow' (steady on!) here …

But it also seems timely to once again celebrate the ongoing contribution to the rich tapestry of New Zealand music history currently being made by the AudioCulture site (click here), which documents artists, bands, scenes, venues, and just about every other conceivable angle on pop culture in this part of the world – archiving stuff from days gone by right up to the present day. There really is nothing else like it. The “noisy library of New Zealand music” is an incredible resource that will only continue to get bigger and better as more boxes are ticked, as more artists/bands are profiled, and as more scenes and venue histories are explored.

I feel lucky to have been a part of it, and to have been paid for being a part of it, with site content dudes Simon Grigg and Chris Bourke having indulged a few of my own ramblings about various things near and dear to my own nostalgic heart. With – gratuitous plug alert – my “scene” contributions about nightclubbing in Wellington in the 1980s (here), the fabulous Soul Mine record store (here), the long-running retro Atomic and 24-Hour Party People club nights (here), and my band profile of early 90s Wellington funk-rockers Emulsifier (here). 

I appreciate that I’m not a particularly great writer or wordsmith, but these articles are born from a passion I can scarcely contain, one driven by a love of all things “us” and local, and I’ve always felt that unless those of us who were there at the time (pre-internet, pre-Social Media) make an effort to document the regional grassroots stuff, much of it will fall between the cracks and be lost forever. 

It’s also something I try to achieve on this blog. I take some heart from the fact that as I approach the blogpost number 600, all lack of direct feedback aside, everythingsgonegreen is fast closing in on some 250,000 unique page hits. Small beer in the wider context of things, I know, but it may surprise you that local or specifically New Zealand-based content accounts for three of the four “most read” posts. The most read being a very niche piece about 1980s um, nightlife, in the sprawling metropolis that is Palmerston North. Who knew nearly 13,000 readers even cared? 

So I guess people love nostalgia, especially smalltown/local nostalgia. Go figure. 

Finally, just quickly, I also want to give a shout out for NZ Musician magazine (see here). Writing various bits and bobs (features and reviews) for that publication (unpaid) over a five-year period – although I’ve contributed very little of late – has been a pleasure, and I guess it gave me the confidence to write that other stuff for AudioCulture. 

Things don’t get much more grassroots than NZ Musician. It really does dig deep, and although it too has come in for some unwarranted criticism over the years, specifically for being unable to pay its contributors, so many artists and bands have received an important leg up from the exposure provided by that particular mag for the 30-odd years its been doing its very funky thing. Long may it continue … online or otherwise. 

When all is said and done though, the absolute best way to celebrate New Zealand Music Month is to find some time this month to go to a local gig. Pay on the door. Support young up and coming bands. Buy something local from Bandcamp (or elsewhere if you can find an actual store). Buy something direct from the artist or band itself … and keep doing it, not just across May, but all year long. And tell your friends to do the same.

Review: The Wellytown Get Down, Wellington Museum, 18 August 2016

I love a bit of nostalgia down here in the padded cell that doubles as the basement at the everythingsgonegreen mansion. Especially when it comes to celebrating all things local and grassroots. So when an event/gig with a focus on Wellington club culture in the Eighties comes along … well, let's just say things don't get much more near and dear to my heart, or indeed, more local or grassroots than that.

The event was called the Wellytown Get Down, and it took place last Thursday night at the unlikely but salubrious surrounds of the Wellington Museum on Queen's Wharf. It was essentially a chat-seminar-presentation put together by youthful next-gen hip hop aficionado/curator Sen Ski, featuring four genuine pioneers of the Wellington scene: past New Zealand DMC champs Rhys B and DJ Raw, plus ex Radio Active DJ Mark Cubey, and ex Soul Mine owner/event promoter, Tony Murdoch. What these four men (collectively) don’t know about the Wellington club/party scene in the Eighties, really isn’t worth knowing.

The idea was that each man would present, play, and discuss five records that they considered important to the era, with audience participation encouraged – that audience numbering roughly 80-100 by the time the event was in full flow. Sen Ski had clearly done his homework, and the backdrop to the stage – which housed a two-turntable rig/mixer – featured the projection of a series of images and video clips of the time, mostly specific to Wellington and those involved, but also some visuals offering wider scene-setting context (early break-dancing clips etc).

Murdoch was first to (re)present; his essentials being a mixture of hip hop and early house – see Digital Underground, Jungle Brothers, Eric B & Rakim, De La Soul et al – and he was thoroughly entertaining throughout, his knowledge shining through as he dispensed with facts and tidbits relating to each tune, and more generally providing an insider’s view of the dance music scene as it related to music retail and event promotion. Murdoch also paid tribute to two absent DJ’s who were also crucial to the Wellington scene – the now US-based pioneer Tony Pene (“TP”), and the prolifically talented but now sadly incapacitated Jason Harding (“Clinton Smiley”). Murdoch is a natural showman (he’d deny it) and during the course of his “set” was able to offer definitive proof that men can multi-task when he took a phone call (from his “homeboy”, who he urged to join us) while simultaneously continuing to present and play music. Remarkable.

Next up, Mark Cubey was equally entertaining, his angle being that of the student radio DJ – see Radio Active’s Uncut Funk Show and the Wednesday Night Jam – but he was also a genuine mover and shaker within the scene, as an event promoter, a club DJ, and (I’m pretty sure) as a performer in his own right as part of the wider Love Factory Band collective in the early Nineties. Cubey made the point that when he first started at Radio Active in the immediate post-punk era, the early to mid-Eighties, 90 percent of the music the station played was “white”. It was something he set about changing with the help of Pene, who became a fixture on the show, and Dr Johns nightclub, which was an early sponsor. Cubey talked a little bit about the influence of sampling, referencing the widespread use of Chic’s ‘Good Times’, and made mention of the important labels – like Sugar Hill, and Tommy Boy in particular. His selections covered off the Jonzun Crew, the Beastie Boys, and the seminal hip hop precursor ‘Adventures of Grandmaster Flash on the Wheels of Steel’.


Funky 4: Cubey, Murdoch, Raw, Rhys B (credit: unknown/but thanks!)

I managed to have a quick chat with DJ Rhys B (Rhys Bell) prior to the event getting underway as I wanted to thank him personally for helping out with some photos for the AudioCulture piece I wrote a few years back, and he’s still the same earthy and modest guy he always was. I don’t think the current generation of DJ’s – beyond the likes of Sen Ski and perhaps one or two others who know the history – can really appreciate what a living legend he is within the context of Wellington and Aotearoa dance music circles. He is a pioneer DJ in so many ways, not just in terms of club and warehouse party culture, but as a performance DJ in a competitive environment, winning the first NZ DMC title before travelling to London in 1990 to represent Aotearoa at the World champs, where he finished a creditable 12th, and met the great hip hop icon Tupac, among other major industry identities. Rhys B talked primarily about what hip hop (specifically) means to him, about how it possibly saved him and a few others “from the gang scene”, about belt-drive turntables, and about the wider culture of the genre. His selections included music by the Fat Boys and Grandmaster Flash, and yes, it wasn’t until pushed by the audience that he revealed that Tupac connection.

Speaking of humble, DJ Raw (Ian Seumanu), was the final guest selector. Raw is another ex-NZ DMC champ and still very much involved in the scene, as head of the DJ programme at Whitireia Polytechnic and an active mentor for many others in “DJ Battle” circles. I don’t think any of the other presenters will mind me saying that this was very much a case of saving the best until last because Raw closed out the show with a compelling display of what is known as turntablism (or cutting and scratching to us mortals), putting on a show and getting the biggest cheer of the night. Prior to that Raw talked about growing up around older guys like Pene, and Rhys B, and attending clubs for the first time, about how he was influenced by the NME charts, the scene at the Soul Mine, and how getting access to rare early DMC footage on video had effectively changed his life. After being blown away by his closing party trick, I’m struggling to recall his earlier selections but I do know they included Shannon’s high energy ‘Let The Music Play’ and perhaps something from Full Force.

Regardless, whether you’re a nostalgia freak like me, a massive hip hop or dance music fan, or simply someone who loves music and/or local history, the Wellington Museum was a pretty damn fine place to be hanging out last Thursday night. Huge respect to Sen Ski for having the vision and wherewithal to piece it together, and thanks to the participants who took the time to tell their wholly unique stories. It might just have been the best couple of hours I’ve had all year.

The Soul Mine Revisited

A couple of years ago I wrote a series of posts (under the Retail Therapy banner) about a handful of Record Shops that had, in one way or another, been a huge part of my life at various points along the way.

Included in that series was a post on Wellington’s The Soul Mine (1985-2006) which neatly framed my relationship with that particular shop. That post turned out to be one of the blog’s most popular in terms of page hits (even attracting, gasp, some comments), but I always felt that it was incomplete and lacking somewhat in terms of wider reach.

I recently had the chance to sit down with Tony Murdoch, owner of The Soul Mine, to talk some more about the shop and I used the guts of that conversation for a piece which I submitted to AudioCulture, a widely read website dedicated to documenting the history of popular culture in New Zealand – whether it be people, bands, venues, or “scenes”. Murdoch kindly supplied photos, flyers, and quotes, I added some words, I deleted some others, and we ended up with this (click here to read more about The Soul Mine on AudioCulture).

Retail Therapy 2: The Soul Mine, Kilbirnie, Wellington

When I moved to Wellington in 1986, my first two flats were in the eastern suburb of Hataitai, with my third in the heart of Newtown. All three “homes” (and I use the word loosely) were a mere stone’s throw from the satellite suburb of Kilbirnie, which is where I discovered one of the best little record shops I’ve ever had the pleasure of stumbling into.

The Soul Mine was owned and run by a guy called Tony Murdoch, who’d moved to Wellington and established the shop in 1985, having previously run Vibes in Gisborne. Murdoch was a musician in a band called Marching Orders and his knowledge of music was (and remains) second to none.

Murdoch was clearly passionate about what he was doing at the Soul Mine. The shop had a sense of family, and of community, as much for its location as for those who worked behind the counter over the years – a close knit team that often included Murdoch’s mum, Doreen (RIP). It was a fun place to visit … you could catch up, get some tips, and hear the latest stuff. Murdoch would put something new on and spend the next five minutes shimmying and grinning from behind the counter, supremely confident that you liked his choice as much as he did; this man loved his work, and his enthusiasm was hugely infectious. It never really felt like it was only ever about the sale.

 

That ordinarily would be reason enough to visit regularly, but the key element that singled out the Soul Mine as being something out of the box – particularly for the capital’s leading DJ’s of its era – was the massive range of dance music it stocked. From mainstream stuff, to the imported Streetsounds and Upfront compilations, to more early Hip hop than you could poke a stick at – on the freshly established Def Jam and Tommy Boy labels – right across the spectrum to the more specialised DJ-geared high-bpm 12 inch imports. If it wasn’t already in stock, Murdoch would source it for you.

The Soul Mine catered for the DJ at a time when DJ culture needed some catering for, and although it may not have been part of any great master plan, Murdoch quickly became the default “go to” guy for all niche DJ needs. The shop didn’t just sell music, it acted as a rallying point for a growing subculture, taking on what could almost be described as a de-facto custodial role for the capital’s burgeoning Hip hop scene. In the late Eighties, and early Nineties in particular, the Soul Mine regularly promoted specific club gigs or one-off parties, and I think I’m right in saying the shop itself hosted a few very special gigs and DJ performances of its own … (De La Soul? … or is that just an urban myth?)

For me personally though, The Soul Mine was mostly about the dozens of funk and dance music compilations on cassette tape I bought there (lame, I know, but it was primarily for the car), mostly between 1987 and 1990; things like the early House Sound of Chicago comps, various Streetsounds Electro comps etc. I still have a few of them in a box somewhere. But one of the best purchases I ever made there came only on vinyl, and came blindly, directly after a recommendation from Murdoch one Saturday morning. It was a vinyl copy of Pay It All Back Volume 2, an On-U Sound compilation LP, on import. I loved it immediately, and it kick-started something of a love affair with anything On-U. In fact, I ended up collecting the entire Pay It All Back series – volumes 1 to 6 – over the course of the next decade.

Pressures directly related to changes in the way we consume music, the format it took, the presence of non-specialist chain stores, and I’m guessing, its suburban location, led to the shop’s closure after 21 years in 2006. I was briefly present late on at the Soul Mine closing down “party”, some twenty years after I’d first set foot in the shop, and I was blown away by some of the faces present … a virtual who’s who of the local DJ scene across the previous two decades.

I caught up with Murdoch recently and asked him to recall some of the guys who spent a lot of time in the shop during what was – remember – a time of massive change for the musical landscape; as dance music evolved, as funk morphed into house, and Hip hop exploded from a small niche scene into something resembling a massive global phenomenon … and in Wellington terms, the Soul Mine was very much at the heart of that:  

 Tony Murdoch (Soul Man in chief 1985-2006) …

 “(There was) the Lyall Bay collective - cats like King Kapisi (Bill Urale), Ian Seumanu aka DJ Raw, who currently does the Rumpshaker old skool gigs, and runs the DJ school out at Whitireia. Plus Shaun Tamou, who is now based in Oz.

The Newtown collective - cats like Kerry 'Aki' Antipas, who’s still doing it week in week out, DJ Rockit V, the Wright brothers, Douglas Swervone Wright and Andrew Kerb 1 Wright, break dancers and graffiti artists of the highest order. True upholders to this day of Hip hop’s finest traditions!

And the Island Bay boyz - Rodrigo Pantoja aka Don Luchito, now with Radio Active, and Danny Mullholland aka DJ Mikki Dee, who has regular gigs round town and overseas.

Then of course there were inner city cats like Kosmo Fa'alogo, now in Sydney promoting Hip hop parties and shows. And Tony 'DJ TP' Pene who was kinda the godfather DJ at Exchequers back in the mid Eighties, now in Colorado USA, in IT, and still mixing it up.

From the Hutt, the legendary Rhys Bell aka DJ Rhys B, big on Active's Famous Wednesday Night Jam (with Mark Cubey) and still phunking it up. DJ Laina Tiata also from the Valley and yep, still mixing it up.

Then of course the next wave featured guys like Jason 'Jaz' Ford, hip hop DJ/upholder extraordinaire. Also Cian O'Donnell, an English DJ who worked for me for a few years in the Nineties, (who was) into rare groove/soulful house/and a lot of tasty mixes. He now owns Conch Records in Auckland. We used to import huge quantities of all that stuff from the UK.

We can't forget of course the one and only Jason 'Clinton Smiley' Harding who was also there at the beginning and who traversed all the scenes and genres in his usual impeccable style. Not forgetting Matthew Poppelwell and Liam Ryan (ex Active breakfast host) who among other gigs now alternate each week at Boogie Wonderland …”

That’s a potted history of two decades worth of Wellington nightlife right there, and your humble blogger is thinking that if a Wellington equivalent of Last Night A DJ Saved My Life is ever to be penned then Murdoch himself might be a resource well worth preserving (place a heritage order on that man, quick).

It seems appropriate then to finish with a clip of something representative of the shop, it might be something I heard for the first time there, I can’t really be sure, but it seems far more fitting for Soul Mine purposes than – for all that it was the recommendation of a lifetime – something from the On-U Sound catalogue! … here’s some Hip hop then, (very) old skool styles … Eric B & Rakim, a masterclass in rhyme and flow: