SWEET WATERS

Rip It Up, Issue 43, 1 February 1981, Page 10

S WEET WATERS

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After a lengthy wait in the traffic, we parked the van and rushed to the main stage. Flying Doctors had already finished, and the Newmatics were several songs into their set. A hard core of Aucklanders frantically danced up front, while others looked on in bewilderment at what was obviously their first glimpse of this up and coming band. Vocalist Mark Clare was in great form, and the applause soon began to flow. The alloriginal repertoire suited the atmosphere perfectly, with ‘Judas' and ‘Five Miseries’ being highlights. It’s a pity the Newmatics had such a bad time slot, as many missed a chance to catch one of the most exciting bands at the festival. Mark Phillips Flyte X-7, despite the new spelling, sounded pretty much the same. Clarkson obviously hand-picked the new members to achieve his kind of sound, which is still highly derivative, but clean and tight. The new songs and the old tended to blend into one another, and there was little indication of any new direction. Best responses were gained from the oldies, ‘I Lose Control’ and ’Walking In The Dark’, which suggest they may have been the band's finest hour. Maybe something new will emerge in the months to come. Give it time. Ariel now appear closer than ever to the dreaded heavy metal. Their guitarist, with metal-length hair, adopts the postures and grimaces of the early 70’s axe heroes, while churning out one riff after the other. They played ‘Won’t Get Fooled Again’, which just about says it all. Let’s hope they don’t start a revival. Wellingtonians seem to go mad every time Aucklanders write off the Steroids. But the fact remains that Wellington has produced better bands. The Steroids were boring when they opened for the Boomtown Rats in Auckland, and they haven’t improved. It’s no longer 1977, and the sooner they learn this, the better. Duncan Campbell By the time the Knobz hit the stage, the audience had swelled to around 20,000. For the band, it was the perfect chance to reach the people who so far had heard only the single. As it was, the set proved uneventful. Armed with new keyboardist, old Flight X 7 man, Mark Stanton, they whirled through a very forgettable collection that included two X 7 songs. The blatant Mi-Sex influence won the masses over, though, and by the time they lunged into ‘Culture’, the crowd couldn’t resist the urge to sing along. It was the next day that really showed the band’s drawing power. An afternoon spot on the Aerial Railway stage drew more than 10,000. The Mockers were at something of a disadvantage with the absence of their regular bassist/keyboardist/songwriter, Gary Curtis, who apparently refuses to tour any further north than Lower Hutt. Still, with the aid of stand-in bassist, Don Mackay, they turned in a set of enjoyable originals and covers that saw vocalist, Andrew Fagen, make good use of the available stage space. Standing out was the excellent ‘Murder In Manners Street’, while sadly missing was ‘These Were The Good Old Days’.

It’s about time their bass player woke up his ideas, or he could become a weight around theirankles. Mark Phillips Saturday morning at eleven Sweetwaters officially opened. Penknife Glides had the dubious honour of being first on. Suffering at the hands of a mixer who appeared to be practising for later in the day, they played their originals to an apathetic morning crowd. Small, intense places rather than wide open spaces are PKG’s forte, and this wasn’t one of their better performances. Otis Mace (real name Richard Lello) is something of an oddity. This little man, armed with his electric guitar, managed something many of the bands couldn't. Within the space of a few songs, he had the audience won over. His clever, witty musical poetry, in the vein of Patrik Fitzgerald, had the mob hanging on his very word. And when he did the one about wiping your bum with a fluffy kitten ... well, you had to laugh. If Push hadn’t turned up, they could have quite easily been replaced with a juke box. As it was, they burdened us with their particular brand of top forty thrash. The uninspired amongst the crowd thought they were groovy. A veteran of Sphinx and Skylord, Joz Hodzelman comes dangerously close to BOF territory. Armed with guitar and bass drum, he played his music to an incredibly kind audience. I went and got a hot dog. It's hard to work out if Garage Crawlers are serious. Sure there are some nice little songs, but the majority of their set is full of trite attempts to be witty. 'Normal Dunediner’ is vicious, while the single, ‘Only You Tonight’ does have its moments. More live work might be the answer. Rhythm Method appear to be a band with extremely assorted influences, giving them a diverse style. Recorded efforts ‘Mad’ and ‘Carousel’ are obvious highlights in a consistent set. Their next problem is what to do about an almost total lack of stage presence. It’s hard to imagine that it has only been a year since the Crocodiles made their major debut at last year's Sweetwaters. In that year there have been two albums and a myriad of line-up changes. Jenny Morris looked her usual immaculate self, but the band sounded bored, and the material remarkably bland. If the Crocs are still around to do Sweetwaters 'B2, I shall be extremely surprised. Mark Phillips Seven O’clock and first up was the Daniel Keighley managed three piece, General Public. If enthusiasm and good intentions were everything then they would have made their mark. As it was their lack of cohesion and competence climaxing in a disastrous “tribute” to John Lennon of ‘Strawberry Fields' and ‘Back In The USSR' (somebody should tell the people and the radio stations that it’s a McCartney song) drew a barrage of (empty) beer cans. The Techtones put matters right with a superbly cool set of meticulous, fool-proof pop songs. Guitarists Jimmy Juricevich and Steve Roach, play clean, bright and forceful, and songs like ‘Make You Mine’, ‘Love In A Win-

dow’ and the harsher tones of ‘Same Old Game’ yeH for an album and a decent producer. The Techtones are here to stay.

Pop Mechanix next. The following day Neil Finn expressed his admiration for the band. He wasn’t alone as the Christchurph band drewone of the best responses for any up-and-comers at the festival, but my reservations doubled. They’re a well-rehearsed, fidgety unit with visual focal point, Andrew Snoid, on vocals. Their songs leave nothing to chance. They’re constructed like neat pre-fabricated houses, sound but unimaginative poor decor. Live, things are equally as methodical and their now renowned recorded repetoire blew a storm. Too well-oiled, too pat. Nightfall, fireworks and Split Enz. A heroes’ welcome for a band synonymous with NZ festivals. It was one of their best performances benefitting from the flawless sound set-up and the ecstatic audience mood. ‘Poor Boy’, the second song, was transcendental, perfectly floating and ethereal. A personal festival highlight. Mosty of True Colours was laid bare and numerous dips into the past (‘Frenzy’. ‘Charlie’ and 'I See Red’) were presented, but it was the recent, Neil’s unrivalled 'One Step Ahead’, and the future, ‘A Hard Act To Follow’ and ‘Ghost Girl’ from the forthcoming album, that delivered the real interest. Mirror-ball lighting and encores added to a complete and deserved triumph. Getting tired. It was after midnight and many left before Jo Jo Zep. A pity because their set was damn near inspirational. Joe Camilleri showed what being a frontman was all about. Athletic and hyper-active, he took the band through a high energy selection from Screaming Targets and Hats Off. A number of new songs, especially ‘Touching On the Danger Zone’, showed the band moving away from past reggae dependence. I felt revived. Zep were that good. The night ended with the Tigers. With the Wellington band was the legendary but difficult-to-handle Wayne Mason on keyboards. He couldn’t save them. The Tigers know their do-re-mis but they want to deliver goodtimes with high credibility. In this country the two are almost mutually exclusive. Nick Theobald writes good airwave rock’n'roll but vocalist Barry Saunders tries too hard. Tiredness and the Tigers struggled, tiredness won. George Kay It’s late morning and the sun’s well up. It’s very hot and the Screaming Meemees seem more than appropriate. Vocalist Tony Drum is ugly enough to be a star, he’s white with a big nose and an arrogance to match the band's spikiness. They're rough but smooth enough to be recorded and good enough to be listened to. People listened and brought the band back for an encore. Evolving punks. Ladies Meryl Yvonne and Jess Hawk David and backing band alternated between laid back West Coast movement and easy blues. Polished, sunny and totally self-contained, their music would have made sense at Nambassa. Swingers’ influenced Blam Blam Blam, aka

Whizz Kids with a new drummer, have the ideas but not the tunes. Rock is truth then entertainment for such bands and so their prime- purpose is to convey a point, social, political or emotional I can admire and relate to that but listening must be made easier. If they can't write songs they might as well be poets.

Midge Marsden has been playing R&B and no nonsense boogie since he was knee-high to a guitar pick. Reliable and rooted in the best traditions he supplied predictable fare to a receptive crowd. His version of ‘Apolitical Blues' stood out and he was called back. Good clean fun.

The shade of the car called and the reggae of Local Heroes and the acoustic enterprise of Gloria Gibson, perfectly audible, couldn’t compete and so it was left to the last act of the afternoon, Top Scientists, to provide the best made rock’n’roll.

Springing from black preferences (Tamla, soul, reggae, R&B) keyboards' player John Malloy writes tough, durable songs. Alastair Dougal's excellence as a bassist is obvious as is the ability of rhythm section half, drummer Michael Polglase. Gary Langsford, guitar, is precise and dependable and ex-Mammal and Rough Justice vocalist, barrelly Rick Bryant, has known the ropes for long enough to make the frontman spot look easy. Originals the likes of Trouble Now', 'Better Man Win' and 'Listening to You’ have to be heard. Their covers were rock perfect. Chairman of the Board’s 'Give Me Just A Little More Time’, the Young Rascal’s 'Good Lovin’ and an encore, the Easybeats’ Sorry George Kay On a good night, the Flamingos can tear a bar to pieces, as many Aucklanders will testify. On the Sweetwaters stage, they were tentative and perfunctory. It’s inevitable that bands have their highs and lows, and it was sad that the Flamingos were in the doldrums. The spark just wasn't there. The line-up change that's coming may help, but I, for one, will miss Paul Hewson's deft piano and his ‘I Need A Hit’. Coup D’Etat got the encore that the Flamingos didn't. No reflection on the latter, since those in charge on stage didn’t even give them a chance. Coup fared a little better with a set that was full of nervous errors. “We'd better get this one right,” said Harry Lyons, and 'Doctor I Like Your Medicine’ was certainly the best number. Or was the encore just so the oglers in the front could just get another look at Jan in her fetching vinyl number? Three cheers for the daring young man in the flying machine, whose aerobatics in a vintage biplane provided one of the best thrills of the day.

Mi-Sex weren’t far behind, even if they didn’t quite recapture the euphoria of iast year's performance. They still managed to do what nobody else had managed that day, which was to get that big crowd up and happy. They know what big audiences want, and they deliver. Simple as that, and others should learn a lesson or two (no names). The new songs didn’t grab on first hearing, but cynics should be warned against kissing Mi-Sex off too fast. They’re too smart and experienced to spoil what they’ve already achieved. Roxy Music promptly spoilt what Mi-Sex had started A 45-minute break to change gear was inexcusable, especially when people had been on their feet for over four hours and the night was getting cold. Roxy came on stage under a severe handicap, and then capped it all by opening weakly.

The band did not sound at all interested for the first four numbers, and by the time things did improve, a few thousand people had left. Ferry's detached, if elegant, persona didn’t help things, nor did his inane stage announcements, however tongue-in-cheek. Andy Mac Kay varied from inaudible to inept, and Phil Manzanera's occasional great contributions made his aloofness the rest of the time all the more annoying.

Bass player Gary Tibbs, with all the vigour of his 21 years, was the outstanding member, while the rest of the six-piece band was just present and no more.

They did hit some peaks, especially with ‘The Thrill Of It All' and ‘ln Every Dream Home A Heartache'. ‘Love Is The Drug’ and ‘Do The Strand' would be hard to mess up at the worst of times, but ‘Eight Miles High' was abysmal, as Ferry struggled to stay in tune and failed. I, for one, didn’t find their rendition of John Lennon’s 'Jealous Guy' in the least bit moving. Roxy Music blew it, and there were no excuses.

Hammond Gamble didn’t start till after midnight, with only the hardy and the semiconscious left. His new, semi-bluesy pop failed to warm me up, and I headed for bed to avoid frostbite. Dropping my torch down the bog didn't improve my temper, either. Duncan Campbell All the way from Dobbo, Australia, the Reels were originally down to play last thing on Monday night but INXS cancelled and so they were slotted into early Monday morning following Roxy Music and Hammond Gamble. They’ve changed since their album. They've evolved into a synthesiser unit, three in all, with drummer,, bassist and vocalist David Mason. They’ve also listened to the Residents. With head attached mini-microphones giving them greater freedom of movement and yellow

and black inner space outfits they produced the necessary visual impact to enhance their often excellant material. The cream of their debut was dished out, 'Pre-Fab Hearts’. 'Love Will Find A Way’, and ’Baby’s In the Know’, and a version of Jim Reeves’ "According To My Heart’ and their own ‘Kitchenman’ assured maximum audience interest. The weekend’s most unusual success spot, the Reels must be seen. George Kay The world is full of angry young men who wish to inflict their misery on others through music. Such are the Gordons, who, like a few too many others, have taken PIL to their hearts. They think they can achieve something similar by playing depressing dirges. All their ugly noise succeeded in doing was driving people away. Herbs, a reggae band from Ponsonby, were a touch of sunnier music that had so far been missing from the main stage. They opened strongly with Third World’s ‘96 Degrees' and gave a reprisal for an encore, their smooth harmonies drifting happily across the amphitheatre. It’s a pleasure to hear some original ethnic music, and Herbs were thanked warmly for it. It was Reel To Real’s last gig, ending what’s been a frustrating time for a band with more than a few good ideas. Maybe they just tried too hard to be too clever, so let’s hope the individual members re-emerge. Taste Of Bounty have struggled hard to stay together for the past three years, but their efforts now seem to be paying off. Their roots lie in jazz and blues, though some of their compositions betray a hint of 60’s acid rock. This shows particularly in the vocals of Mahia Samuels, who at times displayed a touch of Grace Slick. They're writing some excellent songs now. and rewards for their hard work may not be too far off. Spys are about to leave for Australia, embittered by promoters whom they claim are not giving them a fair chance to put their music across. At Sweetwaters, they sounded like they were trying to stay trendy by ripping off Police licks. Proficient, but not very original. Maybe they should re-examine their sound instead of walking around with chips on their shoulders. Duncan Campbell The Rodents are a nine piece professional rock’n’roll band from Wellington who showed bands twice their age and experience the way out. With unerring skill and feeling they romped through your favourite Tamla and Stax numbers with a panache that almost eclipsed the originals. ‘ln the Midnight Hour’ and ‘Take Me To the River’ were worked out with authority and their couple of originals combined realism and rocksteady stealth. The brass section was tight and sensibly kept within the abilities but it was lead

vocalist Peter Marshall whose sheer intuitive interpretations were little short of sensational. Future assured. George Kay The departure of sax player Dave Spillane and guitarist Simon Lynch late last year has caused a dramatic change in the Valentinos' music. The combination of Spillane’s sax and Lynch’s guitar gave the Valentinos a sweet sound that lifted them above your run of the mill pub band. Ex-Flight X 7 man Paul Jamieson had the difficult task of replacing both of them Unfortunately, he doesn’t do it at all well. Sure, front man Paul Robinson still does his job with sophistication, but behind him Jamieson contributed heavy metal licks that turned most songs into dirges. 'I Can’t Help Myself’ was by far the best single to come out of Australia last year. The Icehouse album that followed was as disappointing as the single was exciting. The question that remained was whether the Flowers could make that material work on stage. As the band hit the stage, they were greeted by a barrage of toilet rolls. Launching straight into 'Send Somebody’, they came on with the sort of aggressive militance that you would expect from a band of such high reputation. Sadly, as the show progressed, the energy began to dim. But the Flowers received everincreasing response as they ran through the whole of their album and a few new songs. The live version of ‘I Can’t Help Myself’ sounded limp, while the new Australian single, 'Walls’, benefited immensely from its live treatment. It wasn’t until the encore that the band’s real on-stage energy came on display in a blistering version of Iggy’s 'Funtime'. Cold Chisel came here with the reputation of being the hottest live act in Australia. On the strength of Monday's performance it’s hard to argue. Jimmy Barnes’ vodka-soaked voice bellows, "This one’s for the f“kers up on the hill’’ as the band tears into ‘Standing On The Outside’. The crowd rage and miscellaneous items fly through the air. It has taken Chisel no longer than ten minutes to whip up a frenzy. The band rip through virtually their whole song book. ‘Star Hotel’ brings a roar of approval, as does ‘Cheap Wine’. By the time Chisel leave the stage, the punters are going crazy. A few minutes later keyboard player Don Walker and guitarist lan Moss return for an idyllic rendition of ‘Georgia’ the calm before the storm. The whole band returns, and delivers an encore of no less than half an hour. Old classics 'Light My Fire’ and ‘Knocking On Heaven’s Door’ receive a well-timed dusting off, and during ‘Goodbye Astrid’, Barnes plunges into the crowd, closely followed by assorted roadies and microphone leads. The fact that Cold Chisel managed to inject such excitement into a crowd tired and sore after four days is a tribute to their power as a major rock act. Pissed off you left early?

Serves you right.

Mark Phillips