N.Z. rock from 1955 to 1988

Press, 18 February 1989, Page 27

N.Z. rock from 1955 to 1988

Stranded In Paradise, New Zealand Rock ’n’ Roll 1955-1988. By John Dix. Paradise Publications, 1988. 352 pp. $39.95. (Reviewed by Alistair Armstrong)

New Zealand rock ’n’ roll has matured considerably since Johnny Cooper, "The Maori Cowboy,” sang his version of the Bill Haley hit “Rock Around The Clock” in 1955.

Cooper, a Wellington-based variety performer, was given an advance copy of the Haley disc in August of that year by his record company, HMV. “This is going to be really big, this rock ’n’ roll, Johnny. Best not to miss out on this. We’ll put you in the studio next week,” he was told. Cooper played the Haley record a dozen times, and still did not know what it was about. When he entered the Island Bay studio, he did not understand the words, and the jazz backing band hired for the occasion found it difficult coming to terms with a song where the emphasis was purely on the beat.

Cooper’s version of “Rock Around The Clock,” complete with a glaring vocal mistake in the final verse, was the first rock ’n’ roll recording made in New Zealand. The 78 (45s were introduced to New Zealand in 1956), coupled with “Blackberry Boogie,” sold only moderately well. However, when the Haley original and the movie “Rock Around The Clock” were released in 1956, New Zealand, says Dix, went “rock ’n’ roll crazy.” What happened after that feverish introduction is described lovingly and in great detail by Dix, a former editor of Palmerston North’s “Guardian.” His work is complemented superbly by a collection of almost 400 black-and-white photographs. The link between rock ’n’ roll and contemporary fashion can be seen in the parhde of everything from drainpipe jeans and teddy-boy coiffures to fuzzy Afro cuts and flared pants. Historians of the future will surely look back in awe.

New Zealand rock ’n’ roll followers may be surprised by the weight of tradition unearthed by Dix. New Zealand has had its own hip heartthrobs and instant idols.

In 1959, Elvis Presley’s Kiwi counterpart, a Wanganui musician named Johnny Devlin, was regularly having the shirt ripped from his back by concert-goers. On one occasion, in Invercargill, Devlin, whose star burned for a much shorter period than Presley’s, had not only his shirt but his pants tom off.

Christchurch, it seems, can take a bow for its contribution to New Zealand rock ’n’ roll, in the genre’s formative years through Max Merritt and the Meteors and Ray Columbus and the Invaders (the latter perhaps best remembered for their hits “She’s A Mod” and “Till We Kissed”). Merritt was a gritty-voiced singer who, Dix suggests, never quite achieved the stardom he deserved. Merritt was able to keep up with overseas trends — something far more difficult to do in New Zealand in the 1960 s than it is today — through records given to him by United States Navy Operation Deep Freeze servicemen based at Christchurch Airport.

As elsewhere, rock ’n’ roll and the changes it brought did not win unamimous approval. The New Zealand Broadcasting Service decided in the late 1950 s that it would not play “noisy” records, one of which was Chubby Checker’s “The Twist.” The popularity of “The Twist,” as performed live by the Keil Isles, forced the service to reassess its policy. When Beatlemania hit New Zealand in the spring of 1963, the initial adult reaction was typified by the editor of the “New Zealand Listener,” Mr M. H. Holcroft, who wrote: "It is our hope and indeed firm intention that, having heard the Beatles once, we shall not hear them again.”

Later, in what became the “Swinging Sixties,” Kiwi rock ’n’ roll addpted a more universally acceptable face through the likes of The Chicks, Mr Lee Grant, Alison Durbin, and television’s Peter Sinclair.

Dix charts its progress thereafter in chapters such as “Musos With A Mission — The Underground

Movement” (focusing on bands such as Christchurch’s influential Ticket), “Beginnings of The Enz,” “Kiwi Rock Comes Of Age” (the charge led by groups such as Hello Sailor against the pub-dominated, uninspired sounds of the mid-19705), “Short-haired Rock ’N’ Roll” (punk rock), “The Sounds of the South” (the unparalleled achievements of the Flying Nun record company, of Christchurch), “Dave Dobbyn — An Optimistic Dude,” and “Light Of The Pacific — Polynesian Rock” (with a close look at the redoubtable Herbs). Throughout these sections, and the others, Dix displays an intimate understanding and deep apreciation of New Zealand rock ’n’ roll. He examines movements and identifies the catalysts for them with precision. As well, he has summoned from many of those about whom he writes a catalogue of illuminating and at times hilarious anecdotes. These are neatly conveyed by Dix’s unpretentious style, one which, incidentally, sits particularly well with the subject matter.

The book is nicely rounded out by two compact but comprehensive lists; one of the New Zealand hits which reached the national charts from 1966, and the other of awards since 1965. Dix lost the services of two publishers and endured numerous hardships during the eight years it took to compile "Stranded In Paradise.” His courage and persistence have enabled him to create a unique, pioneering record of music and people that will delight generations of New Zealanders. Dix says he set out to paint “the big picture.” He has succeeded magnificently.