LIVE

Rip It Up, Issue 151, 1 February 1990, Page 26

LIVE

THE POGUES, CHAINSAW MASOCHIST Powerstation, February 3 Chainsaw Masochist were not born to play in an outsize sauna full of moustache-wielding inebriates, that much is for certain. Whether their finely detailed explorations of the mid 60s / mid 80s axis of polite guitar pop could . have raised a sly smile in more convivial surroundings is a moot point, I suppose. The Pogues, thankfully, are a much more belligerent proposition. The demons which plague the Powerstation mix are at their worst, obscuring the vocals in favour of such sonic delicacies as tin whistle feedback, but Shane McGowan barely needs to be heard to . infuse the music and the atmosphere with his lacadaisical, tragi-comic \ - - wildness. Like J Mascis of Dinosaur Jr, he looks like he couldn't care less; he just gets up and does what he does, which just happens to be something . no-one else on the planet could do. He's drinking tonight, but contrary to popular rumour he does not require propping up against the mike stand, . and he even manages to talk to the audience between songs (more than can be said for clean-living rock starts like the Jesus And Mary Chain or the aforementioned Evian-swigging Mascis). The rest of the band could almost have carried the night on their own anyway. Philip Chevron's Thousands . Are Sailing' is both physically and emotionally stirring, and a rendition of . the Velvets' White Light/White Heat', dominated by Spider Stacy's vocals and Chevron's schizoid feedback, is as near to breaking point as the original. It's a mystery to me how a band relying mainly on acoustic instruments can create such an undefined, omni-directional noise, but inexplicability is a treasured commodity these days, and the Pogues are as delightful a paradox as anyone could hope to despair of solving. MATTHEW HYLAND - NZ FRESH Power Station, Feb 10. The lite-metal bands (well you can't call Bad Boy Lollypop heavy) at the same venue the night before cost $5 while this Voodoo Production rap spectacular was $lB. You can guess who had the bigger crowd? A pity, cos it was a great night I intended to enjoy, exempt from reviewing due to my vested interest in UHP label Southside. But alas all our

funky writers were hungover or married and it was my turn for a long late night. I arrived during Semi MC's set, a. ? promising ad with some good grooves and a singer who sings better than the guys rap. Their clothes (MC Hammer style West Coast gear) were better ♦ co-ordinated than their dance moves, there just seemed to be too many people on stage. 'Set Your Body Free' is a good party mover but it needs a cleaner instrumentation before it can be a single. Enemy Productions (two rappers, two movers, a deejay) had some good vdanceable rhythms and better rapping than the prior act. 'Stop Braggin" is a good focused lyric but these guys need time to find their own style and add substance to their set. After crowded stages, MC Slam stood out, a big guy, in a white shirt and tie—a cross between Freddie Jackson style cool and Grey Lynn Samoan Sunday best. A fine rapper, better English diction than Prince Charles (or any other NZ Fresh rapper), a good mover (a lotto move) and an interesting viewpoint. MC Slam had an impassioned rap about his hometown 'Auckland City'and for a new rap 'South Africa (Government of Shame)' he strode the stage like a preacher, his book of lyrics in hand while DJ Jam did some dancing and some impromptu dancers joined them on stage. MC Slam was the first act to really get across to the crowd, to evoke a response —to delight, suprise, entertain. Up until MC Slam the winner on "attitude" and "spunk" award was the slightly drunk compere MC Klymn of Total Effect who at least knew how to say it "loud" even if he didn't know what "it" was. A dance interlude from the Syndicate Steppers was great, then came Noise And Effect in shorts. They had a slightly De La Soul wardrobe and a highly regarded deejay but were not very melodic. Though very able rappers, they don't have distinct personalities and they reminded me of watching the Games' Devonport road walk at breakfast, the other week. Too sober, no suprises, too late at night. Total Effect were taking ages to come on, you know startrip stuff you expect at Western Springs, so I went and got a hot dog with cheese, sauce and mustard at Uncles and wandered back looking in shop windows—books on American convertibles, astrology and a shop it was hard to see into. Total Effect were still not on, did they have MC Klymn under a cold tap? Was. putting him in the freezer a bad idea? Which freezer? Why do they want him sober? Finally, 12.30 am the nerd culture

experience materialises, four distinct rappers, earnest Sample-Gee's ' : dancing is improving, MC2 is a solid reliable type, MC Klymn is pissed and can move well, while Boy C knows he's a cool dude, can dance, laugh and is the best rapper. Their deejay Kid-Cut selects good samples — 'Ripping Up A Storm' is still great. I like the new 'Hustle' ditty and basic spelling out of ■ T-O-T-A-LE-F-F-E-C-T'is always a . good basis for a pop song, like Al ; . Green's 'L-O-V-E Love'. 'Only in a. Dream' was good entertainment and ; the too typical, Typical Female' gets by with the help of the Triple Threat : dancers. With a little mayhem in the mix, thiswasTotal Effect at their best. Will Upper Hutt Posse be on before dawn? Yes, there's no time for another snack. Posse hit stage minutes later, 1.15 am, sort of showing the difference between the men and the boys. £ Right from 'Clockin' the Time', rastas Wiya and Acid Dread were rapping hard, up in the mix challenging main man Dean and the backing track. 'Get With It' and the slow'Stormy Weather' follow but it was Tere's 'That's the Beat' that got the crowd dancing. A neat . snippet of Stevie Wonder's 'Superstition' courtesy of DJ DLT added spice to the song and dancers boogied on for'Do It Like This'. Dean Hapeta introduced 'Etu' with "The only thing good about Waitangi was the protest." Posse got a beer can soon after that comment but kindly Wiya swiftly returned it to its owner. A sharp, scratch backing only . version of 'Dedicated' followed and then with a remix version of 'Against the Flow' the Posse were gone and NZ Fresh ended. Sy 7 A great evening spoilt only by a too high entry price. MURRAY CAMMICK JAZZ'N'BLUES ON A SUMMERS DAY Mon Desir, January 29 The show was held up for an hour with the opening act, bluesman Paul Übana Jones, delayed in traffic. Promoter Tommy Adderly attempted to divert a restless crowd by running through a couple of jazz / blues standards with keyboardist Mike Walker. Their short set, the brilliant weather and a few bevvies kept the punters at bay until the debut appearance of a very funky act, La Jah. Ex-Commodores bass player Ronald La Praed joined forces with soul man James Gaylyn, locking into some of the tightest grooves that Auckland has seen. Performing their upcoming single 'I Spy' and throwing in the odd Commodores hit ('Easy', 'Nightshift') with a few soul classics and swingbeat dancefloor numbers, they whipped the poolside into a party hearty mood. Following a top dance /funk group is an unenviable task if you're a one-man acoustic blues musician, but Paul Übana Jones accomplished it with finesse. Mixing funk, blues, folk, African and Indian sounds into an intoxicating brew, Paul laced a passionated and intense set with infectious good humour. Diversity was the order of the day, so ' from uptempo funk and afro-blues we

went to the R&Btinged jazz-leanings of Roy Phillips. Armed with a Fender . Rhodes electric piano, Phillips ran '. , through the faves from his days with the late-60s combo the Peddlers. I remember'Girlze'from my ' . ; ? kindergarten days and it's still a ‘ knockout. There was an interesting gospelfy rendition of U2's 'I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For' as well. Joanne Jackson, Californian soul \ revue performer, topped the bill with sock it to me crowd-exciters like 'Get Ready' and 'Proud Mary' and her rocking R&B theme song Tm A Woman'. Her set was cut short by rain but she returned for an encore with staff holding umbrellas. Everyone was wet when they left, but I swear they , were all smiling. >/•;•*' •' • ’C TROYSHANKS < ■?' BAD BOY LOLLIPOP CIRCUS Power Station Feb 9 MINISTRY OF JOY Arcadia, France St, Feb 10. Sub-cultures live in Auckland. Friday night at the Power Station was metal night. We arrived in time for Bad Boy Lollipop who, despite their rediculous name, transfixed a ten deep crowd at the foot of the stage for the duration of their set. More Cult than Motley Crue, various members of the band bore at least a sartorial resemblance to lan Astbury. The same swaying curtains of hair and trailing floral shirtsleeves, the same cool, dispassionate attitude backed up by a driving wall of sound and a singer who knew howto hold his high notes. Much of the audience looked as good as the band. Not a Black Sabbath t-shirt or handle bar moustache in sight, these guys and girls were more LA. style. Shredded jeans, buckled boots, studded belts and bandanas on the guys, tight jeans or little black dresses on the girls and Big Hair on everybody. (The atmosphere in the ladies 100 was heavy with nothing so much as chloro fluro carbon aimed at the massed , manes at the mirror. To be a metal chic is to be hair and legs.) Next up was Circus, heavier and older than BBL, sporting bare chests instead of ruffled shirts under their waistcoats. Bassist Dave Henderson replaced lead singer Nick Buchanan tonight, but his voice was a coarse as a cheese grater. This band can be good but they sounded more rough than ready. Forfeiting the chance to hear We Like 'Em Blonde' (not to mention the third act Saigon Rose) we left Circus to it. Ever-keen for cultural contrast, we set out on Saturday night to catch the latest Ministry of Joy performance event at Subterranea in Customs St. A note stuck on the designated door said the event had been relocated to France Street. Fine, but let's have a < drink first. Over at the Family & Naval, the upstairs lounge bar was packed with Polynesian pub-goers enjoying Saturday night on the town. Outside the night was soft as velvet, warm as a bath, - we could have been in Mexico. A notion that intensified when we strolled

further up K'Road and paused outside El Inca. "Come in fora drink hustled the proprietress in the doorway, "the Chilean football team are inside." - Really? We squeezed into a long narrow room, brightly lit, hot as hell and stuffed with people including the promised football players swaying sinuously to the salsa. I got lured into a tango with a Chillean who rhapsodised that Auckland was much betterthan Sydney. It may not be better but at least it's diverse. < • A side street away from the hot Latino scene at El Inca we found Arcadia (as indicated by the skinny . longhaired creatures slumped on the footpath outside). Here the ironically named Ministry of Joy were going to regale us with videos, plays and bands. At least that's what they'd advertised on BFM earlier in the week. We must have missed the plays and videos. ' In a third floor warehouse space as big as a lino-dad ice-rink, people huddled at far flung tables or sat cross-legged on the floor sharing beer and cigarettes—genus Grey Lynn Disconsolate (dyed black hair, Virus t-shirts, stove pipe legs). They were not exactly energy charged, lacking even the galvanising ethos of punk ten years ago. Suicidal Tendencies was writ large somebody's t-shirt but not in his eyes, unless he was going to succumb out of boredom. Fora hour the only entertainment was provided by a band interminably setting up in the corner. Every so often the beautiful lead singer stopped fixing her mike or her make-up and charged up the room like a lace clad elephant, crazed by the mute crowd attention. When she finally started to sing, ~ clutching a bunch of red carnations the audience got off the foorto stand at her feet, evidently every bit as entranced by her antics as she was herself. , The atonal opening number ended with a sustained screech pitched dangerously high. We burst into

gigglesbut the horrendous sound was solemnly absorbed by the rest of the po-faced audience. Give me a Chillean footballer anyday.

DONNA YUZWALK