new zealand singles

Rip It Up, Issue 194, 1 September 1993, Page 20

new zealand singles

URBAN DISTURBANCE No Flint No Flame CD EP (Deepgrooves A winner first up and this is crucial local rap listening. Hardcore booming beats matched with a tough sounding, at times highly humorous twin vocal delivery. The prime cuts here are 'Hands of Chaos', 'No Flint no Flame' and 'Hit and Run'. Listening to this one means you don't sit down. GRACE -Skin to Skin CD Single (Deepgrooves) Three different versions here of one song. A single and album version, and my favourite, the bass heavy 12 inch "skinny" cut. Ain't nuthin' but a very smooth very laidback dance groove. Perfect for ND'A when trying to get his plastic wrapped pink cookies crushed by buildings. Yup, liked it. COLONY R.I.P ■ CD Single (Deepgrooves) An aptly named release for this now defunct Auckland trio. There's some interesting hooks and cruisy beats going on here, and with the gorgeous (mostly) background vocals of Sulata Foai, they make for a smooth combination. But there's also way too much heavy political posturing a'la Consolidated. All the usual liberal targets are covered eg.major corporations, government, but the rushed way the lyrics are delivered wears thin rather quickly and will probably fail to impact on the listener. MOANA AND THE MOAHUNTERS I'll Be the One/Rebel In Me CD Single (Southside) Not sure which track is the intended single but I hope it's 'Rebel In Me'. This stunning version of the J.Cliff classic is far enough removed from the original to make it interesting, and sung with enough passion to lift it above the status of being just a "cover". Sadly, track two 'l'll Be the One' featuring Andrew Fagan sounds nothing more than an impotent rock anthem, while the final tune 'Prisoner' travels a well worn path in dance-rock. Still, it's more than worth it for 'Rebel'. . DRIBBLING DARTS Hey Judith CD Single (Flying Nun) No surprises here on this 4-track release. Basically folk music accompanied by troubled relationship stories that I'm far too single to understand. That said 'Let Me be Mean' (the original version is here) is a veritable Nun classic. GIFTED & BROWN So Much Soul Cassingle (Tangata) Much more like it. Along with Dam Natives & Rough Opinion, Wellington's Gifted & Brown are one of the most exciting live hip hop acts in the country. And on this debut release they present a heady mix of funky bottom end beats, swinging raps and smooth soulful vocals. Tried to count the bpm but it made my head spin. Buy a unit. FEAST OF STEVENS Amsterdam 7 inch single (Crawlspace Records) ~ Going out to the folks at Crawlspace is a spine-jarring pat on the back for a throughly professional first time independent release. A seven inch single no less, which is not the easiest thing to produce from this part of the world. 'Amsterdam' has all the necesaries to become a bFM hit. With an instantly catchy melody and a steady rhythm section providing the fuel it sounds like a somewhat muted Wedding Present. On the flipside 'Neatly' they've played it too safe and kept the guitars down low, but closer 'Promise' has a nice line in edgy noisy guitar. Nice one Stu, let's have another one. HALLELUJAH PICASSOS U+l CD Single (Wildside) Am left with a peaceful easy feeling after this one. The first single from the Picassos forthcoming album is the kind of sweet ska pop that has closet rude boys and girls skanking in the aisles everywhere. A surprise treat is an alternative version of the Riot Riddum tune 'Homegirl' featuring the legendary lyrical excursions of the man Bobbyion. Also contains a stripped back version of 'Snakesmans Cry' performed live down the telephone to a crowded art gallery in Washington D.C. and the "double spoon mix" of the next single 'Rewind'. ' JOHN RUSSELL EMMA System Virtue (Tangata) \ The first of the two mixes of .'System Virtue' is optimistically titled Radio Mix. Can't figure what it's on about. There's lashings of contemporary allegory and even a line from 'God Defend NZ'I It does place Emma Paki's plaintive yet warm voice in a fresh, sparse setting. Giving this release distinction and direction, 'Spiral in the Sky' continues in the same musical vein. Finger-pickin guitar up front, lush keyboards back in the mix, add an harmonica. Natural and user friendly but no great shaker. BARBIE

NIRVANA In Utero (BMG) Nobody makes music like Nirvana do, lotsa groups try to copy but all fail miserably and noticeably, no-one has the right combination of geogeous melodies, mixed with ferociuos chunks of shrapnel-like punk rock that hits you in the eye with blissful realisation, and no other band has the omni presence of singer Kurt Cobain, whose presence is always there while you're listening to the album, visions of him always appear, smiling hatedly with smudged eyeliner, dressand his middle finger up (sporting chipped nail polish of course). This album is what bands like Stone Temple Pilots, Rage Against the machine etc will never achieve, they can't come near it... really, cos they aren't Nirvana. Kurt Cobain spurts and spews his post Nevermind life at us epileptically, lyrics of perfect clarity and precision about life in the accepted grunge lane that's everybody's now, lyrics that will sail gaily over the masses' heads, just like before. There's no 'Smells like Teen Spirit' on this album to 'rage to', nothing is as catchy, every song on this album has one big edge to it, so we won't be seeing the models having a crazy wacky time in 'this year's grunge gear' next year to 'Tourettes' (who's lyrics are anagrams of Fuck, Shit and Piss respectively) or anything, how unfortunate for them. As soon as the first track of the album 'Serve the Servants' starts you know you're home, it's like sitting comfortatbly with the cat, it's like 1989 again before grunge was a joke... it feels cool again,cos you know that everyone is not gonna like this, just some, which is how it's meant to be, hell, Nirvana were never Janet Jackson... The first words Kurt sings are 'Teenage agnst has served me, now I'm bored and old' and those words pretty much set the precedent for the theme of the album... Kurt's reluctant reign as 'Grunge King' Tm anemic royalty' he sings in 'Pennyroyal Tea', Marrige, babies, breaking hymens (glory be!) throwing umbilical chords around necks etc,all delivered in Kurt's blissful killer voice.

This album is pretty punkish, cos they are punk: naughty, naughty men making the naughtiest music that you'll EVER see on Pepsi RTR or whatever, 'Radio Friendly Unit Shifter' (which is not) 'Very Ape', 'Milk It', 'Scentless Apprentice' all feature heavy as hell riffs, which sound a bit Tad-ish and Jesus Lizard-y at times, fat and tantrumy, in contrast to the more melodic, mournful songs like 'Rape Me' (sounds like 'Teen Spirit' hur hurl) 'Pennyroyal Tea', 'All Apologies' and 'Dumb' which are all brilliant and beat the shit out of REM songs which are in the same vain, but these have cracking vocal harmonies and cello, and who else could write "I think I'm dumb, or maybe just happy"? Not Eddie Vedder fom Stone Temple Pilots... oops Pearl Jam I mean. SHIRLEY CHARLES

CHRIS KNOX Polyfoto Duck Shaped Pain & Gum (Flying Nun) Even Chris Knox himself probably doesn't know what shape a duck feels pain in, but he can congratulate himself in the knowledge that his fourth solo album is no ugly duckling or headless turkey. There's 21 songs in total here - prolific or what - and it's a reflection of Knox's long-standing quest to create music that is startling and innovative that much of P-Duck is compulsive listening. As such it's not entirely perfect, but there's a very high success rate, more so than on his previous solo outing, Croaker. Polyfoto is a montage of work tape versions of the songs, then the real, full, final versions follow. From 'The Split' onwards one thing is clear; for all his waffle about being a 'non-musician' Chris Knox is actually an accomplished instrumentalist. Don't get the wrong idea though; there's no technical wanko-shit at all, just that Knox sticks his neck out and goes beyond using just the guitar like most solo artists and instead uses an array of instruments to wring out some delightful scratchings.

The best bits of P-Duck are when Knox forgets that deformed guitar of his and lets the organ, cheap Casiotone or ancient melletron carry the can, like on the psychedelic 'lnside Story' and the stark 'Trim Milk' and 'Heart Failure'. Following this approach, but even better are the final three songs of the P-Duck section, 'Blameless', 'The OuterSkin' and 'lntensive Care'. Each is compelling, ominous and unnerving and express fucked-up, not duck-shaped, pain.

guitarist, producer Scott Litt (REM, the Replacements) has captured the essence and energy of the trio - loud, trashy guitars, Hatfield's vocals out front and the rhythm section fighting for whatever's left over. And despite the overly cutesy 'For The Birds', the songs have a nice suburban realism to them. Lines like "I don't want to smoke/ so why am I smoking?", or in 'My Sister' - "I miss my sister/ why she'd go?/ she's the one who'd have taken me to my first all ages show/ it was the Violent Femmes and the Del Fuegos/ before they had a record out . . . " Heads above the rest, however, is 'Little Pieces' which could well be about Hatfield's ex-beau Dando - "You left the state without me/ shows how much you care about me ..." set to a gorgeous melody, the sort of thing the DBs used to write (incidentally ex-member Peter Holsapple pops up here on keyboards). Probably too pop for the grungers and too alternative for mainstream but Become What You Are will, one suspects, outlast much of its current competiton. GREG FLEMING DRIBBLING DARTS Present Perfect (Flying Nun) It was no surprise that the Dribbling Darts were more enjoyable than Sneaky Feelings when both bands played together at the Sneakies reformation gigs. It was a bitter-sweet experience to hear the Sneakies hits again yet quite thought provoking to listen to the Dribbling Darts old material and to some of the songs presented here. Having said that, Matthew Bannister was fairly close to achieving god-like satus in some quarters after penning the classic 'Husband House'. He proves on this long player that it was no fluke with 'Life's A Mistake'. In fact, far from a mistake, it remains one of life's small pleasures that the now truncated Dribbling Darts can write a song about Jerry Lee Lewis, sample his 'Hello Baby' and then tell us that "He'll line you up in an alley when you think you're getting pally" and get away with it. 7 ; They also get away with a song about childbirth and another about being taught to waterski. Not your average band by any means. For good measure there are a couple of classic Bannister pop songs in 'Question and Answer' and the title track 'Present Perfect', both of which contain strong reminders of his Sneaky Feelings days. , ; Describing the band as an alternative to the alternative they've come up with a debut album that builds on the promise of their two EPs and then towers over them. In short, the first eight songs are brilliant and the other three only marginally less so.

The bits that fail, however, are the four or five noisy guitar pieces which are uninspiring and formulaic, whereas the acoustic centred Gum songs are more intriguing. Duck-walk this way for some Casio soul. GRANT MCDOUGALL THE JULIANA HATFIELD THREE Become What You Are (Mammoth) Ex-sometime Lemonhead Juliana Hatfield's new LP is teen pop for people who've left adolescence far behind but still cherish the memories - drunk parties at dad's house, two hour phone calls, boredom and of course a stab or two at your sister who is sooo perfect. The opener, 'Supermodel' (with its digs at the Linda Evangelistas of this world - "the highest paid piece of ass/ you know it's not gonna last") seems an easy target till you catch Hatfield singing "I wish she'd trade places with me." Clearly Hatfield's closer to Frente than Polly Harvey and although she's nothing special as a

ALISTER CAIN

THE BREEDERS Last Splash (4AD) The Breeders are a strange band. I'hey know exactly what they want to do and how they should do it, but Last Splash has come out like something no-one could ever do deliberately. It takes standard ingredients like chunky bass, alternately whining, soaring and roaring indie rock guitar and knowingly innocent vocals and somehow manages to twist them out of focus then back in again, so they sound somehow like nothing and everything you've heard before. Last Splash is one of those accidents that make you want to start living stupidly. It interpolates between idiot savant pop songs like 'Do You Love Me Now', 'Drivin' On' and 'No Aloha', bizarre rock anthems like the great new single 'Cannonball' and 'Hag', then to the really potently strange stuff like the savagely ruffled 'Roi' and the slow, scary 'Mad Lucas' with its painfully restrained, distorted undertow and Kim Deal'schant of "And I don't like dirt". Most of it isn't nearly as overtly unsettling as that, but it leaves you with a giddy sense of disorientation.

With a minimum of obvious effort, they've come up with an album that should be scaring the Kids

away, not making them fall in love. The Breeders are an anti-fashion statement that will be taken as the opposite. Last Splash is a skewed, dazed, deathly pale masterpiece by the weirdest rock band in the world. CAMPBELL WALKER BABES IN TOYLAND Painkillers (Reprise) Painkillers is another of those "if it isn't an EP what the hell do you call it" cases. It's not the new Babes album and from what I've gathered it's priced as an EP in the shops so call it what you want. What Painkillers offers is a remade 'He's My Thing' — which is fantastic — four new Babes by numbers tracks (though Lori's 'Ragweed' is a goody) and a half hour, eleven track, live performance of their last album Fontanelle. All they're trying to tell us with Painkillers is despite their other projects they haven't split up. And what we've got here is a great value taster for the Auckland gig next month. JOHN TAITE DRAMARAMA Hi-Fi-Sci-Fi (Chameleon) A fifth album from these LA based New Jersey-ites and it consolidates the broader rockist appeal of last

year's Vinyl. With Godzilla at the centre of the cover's psychedelic chaos, Hi-Fi exploits the Keith Richards/ New York punk schools of poise and energy. Never dull, if sometimes too derivative (try the routine Stones' romp of 'Prayer', an attitude that works better on 'Bad Seed') the album works because its best songs have an awareness that good rock n'roll does enough if it physically moves you. In that vein 'Hey Betty', 'Where's the Manual?' and 'Work For Food’ rock plenty and ballads like 'lncredible' and 'Senseless Fun' are more than half-way to being memorable. Don't underestimate these guys, rock on. GEORGE KAY THE FLAMING LIPS Transmissions From the Satellite Heart (Warner Bros) Neil Young has toured with Sonic Youth and played with Pearl Jam at this year's MTV Music Awards so it's feasible that one day the old goat might jam with the 3Ds. If he did the resulting noise would probably sound like Transmissions From the Satellite Heart. But first they'd have to take a lot of drugs. How else could you conceive of such out-there lyrics or create the aural havoc which is the norm for Flaming Lips?

Transmissions From the ‘Satellite Heart, like last year's major label debut Hit To Death in the Future Head, harks back to the chemically enhanced studio experimentation of the psychedelic era. But Oklahoma's finest aren't riding the coat tails of yet another psychedelic revival. These boys have been making off-the-wall noises for years. There's nothing cultured, cultivated or contrived about the Lips. They're weid for for weird's sake - their wildly inventive studio approach spawning a succession of twisted ditties, which in the main are supremely listenable. When you're tossing up musical curve balls at the Lip's frenetic rate, occasionally you're going to belch up a clunker. However you can guarantee that every irritating or annoying moment will be stampeded by a piece of musical madness sure to bring pleasure to all but the most musically stagnant. It's the sort of boundary pushing stuff that sends anally retentive commercial radio programmers screaming for the room. A pity as a goofy singalong like 'Be My Head' is perfect FM radio fodder. In fact, it would make a great soundtrack for that TV advert featuring the couple going down on each other in the middle of the road.

Anyway, the world is already

scary enough without the masses 'turning on to the Flaming Lips. No, far better that they remain forever obscure in Alternativedom where critics and other pretentious arseholes can love, cherish and admire them from behind the safety of their own headphones. MARTIN BELL MILES DAVIS AND QUINCY JONES Live at Montreaux (Warner Bros) The significance of this album is more historical than musical. Not that the music isn't pretty damn fine, just that there's a lot of other freight being carried here. For starters, it may well be the last recording Miles ever made; he was dead three months later. , > .. Secondly, the concert featured him revisiting the material he recorded with Gil Evans in Davis's first decade as a leader. First track up is 'Boplicity', originally from the 1949/ 50 Birth of the _ Cool sessions,and the last two tracks derive from the Sketches of Spain set of 59/ 60. For an artist who claimed he could only ever move forward, such musical reflection is surely felling. The upset of Evans's death in the late 60s, along with almost certain knowledge of how little time he had left himself, must have convinced Davis of the worth of this project. That and a very insistent Quincy Jones who put together a dream band for the occasion. However Davis does sound like a man who has lost a great deal of strength. His playing is more quirky than powerful and at times he relies on another trumpeter to carry the load. Moreover Quincy Jones is not Gil Evans. Even when working with Evans's beautiful arrangements Jones cannot fully restrain his tendency for bombast. ; , Nonetheless these qualifications cannot diminish the beauty of this music. Fans who own the original recordings may not want Live at Montreaux but for others the album makes a handy introduction to one of the great partnerships in jazz. PETER THOMSON ; ' BHUNDU BOYS Friends on the Road (Cooking Vinyl) The album, as the name implies, is based on a number of collaborations squeezed into their gruelling tour schedule over the last two years. Four songs were recorded with Latin Quarter, who first came to fame with the anti-apartheid song 'Nomzamo' in 1987. Opening track 'Radio Africa’ and 'Don't Forget Africa' date back to a single released a couple of years ago and will provide proceeds to assist aid organisations in Southern Africa. The other two Latin Quarter numbers continue the anti-exploitation message blending the guitar style with Steve Skaith's Johnny Cleggish vocals. Long-time British country cult hero Hank Wangford joins in the party with one of his own songs, 'Anyway', as well as reworking Johnny Cash’s 'Ring of Fire’ and a traditional South African kwela song. Some of these collaborations work well but 1 still prefer the songs which feature the Bhundus themselves on lead vocals. They have lost some of their spark since the dynamic Biggie

Tembo cut loose to pursue a solo career in 1990 but are still capable of turning out some hot Zimbabwean dance music as 'Anna' proves. Even the country classic 'My Best Friend' sounds better to me without the' extra vocals of Wangford or Skaith. Perhaps most successful, and unusual, of the collaborations is the reworked. version of 'My Foolish Heart' from the 1987 album True fit. Now called ‘Foolish Harp', this version features some beautiful Celtic harp playing by Savourna Stevenson which seems to enhance the almost trancelike feeling of the original song. This album is essential for Bhundu Boys fans and while not likely to displace Shabini or True Jit from their classic album status, this record would make a fine introduction tp the uplifting sounds of Zimbabwean music. NICK JONES THE MONOCHROME SET Colour Transmission (Virgin), The late 70s and early 80s were absolutelychock full of wonderfully progressive rock acts such as the Au Pairs, the Raincoats, X-Ray Spex, the Comsat Angels and the Monochrome Set. All were strangely cursed with a lack of commercial success which makes one wonder quite why Virgin have chosen to re-release this compilation of the Monochrome Set's Strange Boutique and Love Zombies albums. Sadly no place could be found for the tremendous 'Jet Set Junta' but fear not, you can still thrill to the . likes of 'The Puerto Rican Fence Climber', 'Love Goes Down the Drain' or’'Martians Go Home'. -\ " If quirky, eccentric, dated English avant-garde pop-rock is your bag then this will keep you indoors for days. Myself, I'm left asking, do we really need this? ALISTER CAIN ED KUEPPER Serene Machine (Hot) CRUEL SEA The Honeymoon Is Over (Red Eye) The two best Australian records so far this year start with Kuepper's Serene Machine, a seamless collection of twelve songs from a writer who's in the midst of a prolific roll. Poignant and imaginative, Kuepper writes from a folk-rock perspective that always sounds natural and unaffected even when amassing a 23 strong choir for the jaunty gospel celebration of 'Sleep Head', a move that could have been hideously pretentious in the wrong hands. On ‘Who's Been Talking' he teases with the. opening notes of the Byrd's 'Eight Miles High' beforesliding into his typically understated guitar style, a subtle approach that he uses throughout the album with the odd exception like 'Maria Peripatetica' where he cuts loose. Serene Machine lives up to Kuepper's ambition for it to be an album of fine distinct songs rather than a combination of textural moods. Man of the month. The Cruel Sea seem confident enough that they've got a minor classic-on their hands if their less-than-subtle "fucking brilliant new album" ad campaign is anything to go by. Fair enough, if you've got the goods shout about them and The Honeymoon Is Over has massive

amounts of seething bayou influenced blues that are absolutely spinecracking like 'Delivery Man'. 'Orleans Stomp', an instrumental, opens the album and like their debut instrumentals are used to punctuate and relieve the intensity of their bona fide songs. Speaking of which you get the voodoo spell of ‘Black Stick' continuing the spell with the reggae touches of 'Naked Flame' and the semi-cabaret charm of 'Woman With Soul' showing the Cruel Sea's versatility. The Honeymoon Is Over is a brooding, impressive sultry beast. GEORGEKAY CURE Show (Fiction) And so here's the CD of the video of the film of the book etc etc. In the last four years Bob and the lads have put out a re-mix album (Mixed-Up), a mini-live album (Entreat), one

'new' album (Wish) and now here's another live album of the 'new' album material. Next there'll be a covers album, followed by an unplugged one-handed banjo recital. It's fanaticism. Or should I say addiction. Once a fan is hooked they'll buy anything and everything dished out to them — no questions asked. And here's the latest commercial offering. Anyway, here have a review. The show in question was recorded during their recent American tour at some suitable stadium. And, annoyingly, the cassette comes with four extra tracks ('Tape', 'Fascination Street', 'The Walk' and 'Let's Go To Bed') — which you have to buy separately if you want them on CD.

It's a hitsy affair with 'Just Like Heaven', 'Lullaby', 'Friday I'm In Love', Tn Between Days', 'Never Enough’ and so on in their stadium

incarnations. And the sound recording is certainly better than any dodgy bootlegs floating around. Oh and apparently Pori Thompson has left the band. And I didn't exactly find Show life threateningly essential. JOHN TAITE JAMIROQUAI Emergency on Planet Earth (Sony) This is one of those albums that you can't help comparing to other people's music. Not that the influences are poorly chosen. Rather the reverse as Jamiroquai have chosen to emulate the greats of the soul/ funk/ jazz grooves of the early 70s. From the soaring vocals of Stevie Wonder to the modal fusion of Miles, Marhavishnu Orchestra, the breezy jazz of Deodato and the downright funkiness of Earth, Wind and Fire or Sly and the Family Stone, it's all here. These guys are not the first band to revive the groove but they have pulled out all the stops in the imitation department. With real 70s keyboards, real horns, hot percussion and even the Reggae Philharmonic Orchestra in the studio it's hard to see how this band, led by vocalist Jay K, could possibly go wrong. One or two songs tend to meander off into fairly aimless chord changes but then so did the above mentioned luminaries. The real question is, do they have anything new to offer or would you be better buying a mid-price reissue of the real thing. The answer probably depends on how cynical you are about the greening of music. The think globally, act locally, respect indiginous people messages along with a fairly token Didjeridoo track may seem a little light weight to some. Still, it's the kind of record that makes you feel a whole lot more like getting involved and right now we can probably do with a dose of optimism. And even if you can't stomach the good news you can get down and groove to some tasty beats. Could be the album to see in the long awaited summer. NICK JONES JOHN HIATT Perfectly Good Guitar (A&M) John Hiatt can't sit still. A great songwriter since he was a teenager, it took years of experiments before he found a sound that suited those songs on album. Things finally clicked with 1987's Bring the Family. The spontaneous, live-in-the-studio approach gave the album the spirit of Dylan's classic mid 60s albums, which were recorded under similar circumstances. Long overdue acclaim finally his, Hiatt promptly hired a different band for Slow Turning, which was equally as satisfying. Then he sacked them for another unit on Stolen Moments. It's not that he's hard to work with, it's just that, as he said in a Rip It Up interview, he likes to "shake it up a little”. Well get ready to be really shaken up. Perfectly Good Guitar is nothing like the busman's holiday Hiatt took last year with Little Village, in which a quartet of old pros wrote songs by committee and gave their well-oiled grooves an airing. Instead, he's backed by a bunch of young unknowns he found after listening to his kids’ Sonic Youth and Dinosaur Jnr tapes as he drove

them to school. "I wrote stuff with a jangle to it," Hiatt said, and after a few days in the studio they emerged with an uncompromising album that has the edge of Blonde on Blonde combined with the raw, visceral energy and power of Rust Never Sleeps.

The feels range from guitar thrash to ringing guitar anthem, with a slow swamp groove and funk grind thrown in, just to shake it up a little. Throughout, Hiatt takes his flexible, soulful vocals at full throttle, even on the songs that (in this company) you'd call ballads. It's a dense, powerful album that might frighten off a few thirty-somethings expecting ‘lt Feels Like Rain' or 'Lipstick Sunset’. But they can listen to this in the car; just like Neil Young, John Hiatt isn't afraid to wake the neighbours every now and then. CHRIS BOURKE MICHAEL MCDONALD Blink of an Eye (Reprise) According to American corporate rock values it seems Michael McDonald is a soul man. The New York Rock & Soul Review had him singing Jackie Wilson and Sam & Dave. And on one of those TV award shows they even had him duetting with Aretha! This conceit is carried through to the sleeve photo of Blink of An Eye. Instead of a photo of Caucasian greybeard McDonald we get a shot of two young negroes. Inside we get a varied selection of ersatz, from reggae to funk to soul. Sure McDonald has a remarkable voice but its strained earnestness lacks the casual grace one associates with real soul. Moreover none of his nine original songs measures up to the heights of which he is occasionally capable. By far the most distinctive track here is his fresh take on the Goffin-King oldie 'Hey Girl'. PETER THOMSON DEAD CAN DANCE Into the Labyrinth (4AD) Dead Can Dance are confusing because their grim explorations of forgotten parts of musical history (which means the last 2,000 years in Europe and Asia, not semi-obscure 70s prog rock) produce passages of exquisite beauty but so often imply (at least compatibility with) bourgeois mystical kitsch, however great their erudition. Into the Labyrinth floats ambiguously between Islamic, Celtic and modern electronic influences, and the instrumental pieces are simple sensual indulgences, sculpted in astounding detail. Some of the songs, though, sound a bit like slow Depeche Mode tracks with token archaisms, and I just can’t imagine an excuse for singing "I believe in the ways of an older law/ When we used to dance to a different drum . . . Tell me about the forest/ You once called home” in deadly seriousness. When they sing the words of Bertolt Brecht, though ('How Fortunate the Man With None') or even when their own lyrics keep away from bogus metaphysical generalisations ('The Übiquitous Mr Lovegrove') they become quite captivating. So the end result is more luxurious confusion, which may not be a bad thing in itself.

MATTHEW HYLAND

JUSTIN WARFIELD My Trip To Planet 9 (Quest/Reprise) CD Who's he you might ask? Well, details are not that clear, except that he first appeared on Quincy Jones Jr's soundlab extravaganza last year. Those of you tired of hip hop's current gangsta-isms, but keen on 'Native Tongue's school of thought, will grasp Mr Warfield to your collective bosom. A weird and disconcerting outing this is, instead of the constant references to 'Hand On The 40, Puffing A Blunt', we have tracks like 'BBoys On Acid' and 'Live From The Opium Den'. So as America re-dis-covers its hallucinogenic past, so does hip hop, as in the re-newed interest in all things funkadelic. However the question is, cam Mr Warfield drop a beat as well as a tab? ' . Yeah, well maybe, he's got props on ‘Fisherman's Grotto' with its old school feel (as in Run DMC B-Boy shouts) and just a nice angle on the weird and wonderful on .‘Drugstore Cowboy' and 'Stormclouds Left Of Heaven' (name checking that fantastic book Storming Heaven about the development of drug involved speculations, and just tripping off the deep end). Of course, everybody's got a good beat, it's what you do with it that counts, and wouldn't place him too high on the micmeter. However his own production and that of Quincy D and Prince — De la Soul — Paul is always on the owe. So one for the left field, which ain't such a bad place to be. KERRY BUCHANAN VIOLENT FEMMES Add It Up (1981-1993) (Slash) So what do you get for your thirty bucks? Add It Up's 72 minutes contains 23 tracks of which only eight have been previously released on studio albums. Of the remaining 15 tracks, five are unreleased demos, five are live cuts, one is a radio promo for a live show, one is a show intro and one is a phone message

from Gordon Gano. It's hardly a "best of" but Add It Up contains enough oddities to keep the most ardent Violent Femmes fan happy. As a starting point, Add It Up offers the Jonathan Richam-like naivety of 'Waiting For The Bus', an unreleased demo from 1981. From there it's a quantum leap forward to the warped story-telling of 'Blister In the Sun' from 1982's debut album. More highlights from the first two albums follow, as well as the excellent English B-side 'Gimme the Car' and the unreleased 1985 ode to womankind, '36-24-26'. Three years on and Gano still can't get just one fuck, although it sounds, like he's doing a lot of practising. Also from 1985, ‘I Hate the TV' and 'America Is' showcase the Femmes in political protest mode. 'Dance Muthafucker Dance' provides the album's great mystery, being recorded at Stebbings Studio, Auckland, and mixed by persons unknown. From their most recent studio album, Why Do Birds Sing?, 'American Music' almost takes the Femmes back full circle to the wideeyed Richmanesque tales of yore. But Gano's regretful tone ("I've done too many drugs') show that times have changed and perhaps Gano has as well. Add It Up does a pretty fair job as a Violent Femmes sampler, but will probably be more appreciated by those fans hankering for unreleased/ live material or those whose Violent Femmes and Hallowed Ground records have worn out after too many scratched-needle parties during the 80s. MARTIN BELL RED HOUSE PAINTERS (4AD) Red House Painters are a four piece out of San Francisco headed by the disillusioned Mark Kozelek. And have you ever seen a cover so pertinent to an album's content? It's a shot of a intricately structured old rollercoaster that's been abandoned and forgotten. As you listen you Kozelek's hope filled highs and

plummeting lows you'll know exactly what I mean.

Here is a 75 minute double album full of mistresses and misery, sadness and seduction. It’s lost love and broken relationships shared by a man with too many pieces to pick up. Far from depressing though, their songs (esp the wondrous 'Dragonflies' and 'Grace Cathedral Park') offer such sweet melting moments ■your ears can only praise Kozelek's bleak autobiographical tales of woe. Red House Painters are self pitying and self indulgent but you'd be hard up to find anything as elegantly maudlin in its acoustic mastery. There's no raging electric madness, no drum solos, no pacey electronics. This is bare, painful and powerful. The mood is set and the vocals, guitars and drums merely sculpt that mood into something listenable, something memorable, something remarkable. 4AD do it again. JOHN TAITE JOHN MARTYN ' k Couldn't Love You More (Permanent/ Festival) This album invokes both rejoicing and some head scratching. The cheers are because Couldn't Love You More is the first John Martyn album to gain a decent local release in several years. The good news is not just that Martyn is still around but that his voice sounds as rich, bluessoaked, whisky cured and downright sexy as ever. The curiosity is that the album consists of reworkings of old material, some of it relatively recent yet a few songs reaching back to his early Celtic folkie days. Perhaps the purpose is a celebration of Martyn's 25 years of recording. If so, why is there no sleeve note to that effect? (Heck, there's not even a photo of him!) The choice of material is excellent - well, there's more than enough great stuff to choose from - although all of it reflects Martyn's gentler, more ballad-inclined styles. Here is John Martyn grooving soulfully but

smoothly, not getting down and nasty. The performances, while generally similar to the originals, are slightly lusher. Purists may get picky in places (I preferred! it when Phil Collins played great drums instead of the couple of up-front 'backing' vocals here) but it's still a very fine album. . With smart marketing Couldn't Love You More could easily win John Martyn a legion of new fans. After all this time he deserves to be cherished well beyond the present cult. PETER THOMSON VARIOUS Plus From Us GHORWANE MajUrugenta (Realworld) You will probably have to be quick to pick up a copy of these latest Realworld releases as Virgin seem to be erring on the cautious side with most of the recent releases from Peter Gabriel's label. Like the Passion Sources album which followed Gabriel's Passion soundtrack, Plus From Us is a showcase for the musicians who collaborated with him on the recent US album. Like Sources, the album introduces a number of musicians from around the world and features tracks off other Realworld releases such as the new album from Kenyan Ayub Ogada. Unlike Sources, however, Plus features more name musicians such as Brian Eno or Daniel Lanois. With the exception of a Meters track which seems a little out of place, although welcome, the album has an ambient feel which makes it surprisingly cohesive for such a diverse range of artists.

Majurugenta is the work of Ghorwane, a band who have been fighting for survival in war torn Mozambique for the last ten years. The album draws on a number of local styles including the famous Marabanta rhythms made popular by Orchestra Marabanta Star de Mozambique. It blends the styles of Mozambique's former Portuguese colonial culture with indigenous

rhythms and imported styles such as Zouk and Soukous. The album was recorded after Ghorwane played at the UK Womad festival in 1991 and features some great horn playing by the band's sax player, Jose "Zeca" Alage, who was sadly beaten to death in Mozambique this year. Mozambique's war with South African backed rebels finally ended in 1992 but the country has a lot of healing to do. This album's joy will certainly help it on its way. NICK JONES THE TERMINALS Touch (Raf f mond/ Xpressway) DADAHMAH This Is Not A Dream (Majora/ Xpressway) It would be easy to fill several pages execrating the fact that so many of NZ's best bands have to go overseas to /get records released, especially considering the stuff that does get local support. But that would be almost insultingly truistic, and anyway, the time would be better spent going up to total strangers in the street and telling them how grest the new Terminals album is. Where every indie bore for the last five years has claimed the combination of "noise and melody" as their own personal invention (meaning they play prettily insignificant songs through a thin fog of distortion), the Terminals deal in beauty and turbulence. There's no grey guitar buzz, just elusive melodic phrases and extravagant, swollen but delicate chord progressions that have less to do with the Beatles and the Byrds than the kind of pop music that existed from about the 30s to the mid 60s and was always backed by a full orchestra. Which is entirely appropriate for the gorgeously deep, rich voice of Brian Crook, but is thrown into sublime confusion by Mick Elborado's thick layers of organ and synth dissonance. And what's more the lyrics, which are mostly about madness, insects, "hotwires and disease" are funny and scary at the same time and full

of breathtaking phrases that could be metaphors for the way the whole record works: "the taste of smoke is everywhere, the clattering of the hooks." "The limbo turns a freakish trick and penetrates my heart." Dadahmah have some similar virtues: an elegant way with paranoid language (great titles like 'Papa Doc', 'Limbo Swing’), two extraordinary vocalists (one female and/ or alien, one male and possibly some relation to Lee Hazlewood) and an evident love of "outdated" keyboard sounds. It's quite uneasy listening: the voices tend to get swamped in a slow, claustrophobic guitar strum then without warning the floodgates are opened and the song is drowned in organ/ synth bliss. It's a genuinely strange combination of effects, the kind of unsettled musical . experiences small labels like Xpressway are trying to save from extinction. MATTHEW HYLAND JULIANNA RAYE Something Peculiar (Reprise) THE STORY The Angel in the House (Elektra) Two releases from the opposite ends of female rock. The first - Julianna Raye's sickly-cute teen pop (produced by Jeff Lynne) lies somewhere between early Blondie and the slick stylings of Frente. A lot of the time you feel you've heard these songs before and on material like 'Tell Me I'm Alright' Raye's voice is tested and found wanting. Better is the straight ahead power pop raunch of 'Limbo' and 'Peach Window' (a song which , name checks the Beatles' Rubber Soul, a record which has clearly had a: profound effect on Raye’s songwriting). 'ln My Time' and 'Nicola' recall the more thoughtful work of Kirsty Mac Coll, although Raye never quite survives Lynne's heavy-handed production. But there's enough here to suggest that with time and a more sympathetic producer Raye could turn in a solid second album.

The Story, on the other hand, is for the more "discriminating listener" (or so their press kit reckons) and singer Jonathan Brooke takes time to thank a myriad of literary influences on the liner notes - T.S. Eliott, Virginia Woolf and Harold Pinter among them. As one would expect pretension follows (sample lyric - "My life is a rented hotel for the poor/ The rooms are bare and I'm afraid to close the door") and when they try to lighten it up a bit as on the anorexic issue song 'Fatso' it comes across as nauseatingly twee. Sure to be on high rotate in certain bookshops though. GREG FLEMING JOHN PRINE John Prine Live (Oh Boy) John Prine Live makes general release here five years after it was first released in the US, no doubt as a result of critical praise for 1991's The Missing Years and this year's merry concert at the Gluepot. Prine is a cracking songwriter, a croaky singer and has a hilarious line in between-song patter. The 19 songs here (and the chit-chat spaces in between them) show off a sadly under-rated talent. The songs are his best - a stunning

duet with Bonnie Raitt on 'Angel From Montgomery', the heartfelt empathy with the old-aged on' Hello In There', the humour of 'The Accident (Things Could Be Worse)' - and his stage patter is a hoot. The downside is flat production which muddles up several tracks, forcing you to work hard to pick up the subtleties which are so much a part of Prine's music. If you missed John Prine live at the Gluepot, John Prine Live- is the next best thing. But it's only small compensation - he was better than this. A good album, but not good enough. KEVIN NORQUAY ASWAD Firesticks (Mango) CHAKA DEMUS & PLIERS Tease Me (Mango) So reggae is going to be the next big thing? It seems as if each year this comes up, as if it's something new on the block. In a way it is, the way it constantly re-invents itself, incorporating elements from other musics, making itself seem new. Take Chaka Demus & Pliers, earlier work is in the tradition, the

rhythms hardcore Jamaican dancehall, maybe with a slight twist like 'Gal Wine', but this album has its eye on the American market, follotying the success of Buju Banton, Lt Stichie and of course Shabba Ranks. Cross over success is essential to keep the groove fresh, sure there will always be the traditionalists like that terrible American group Big Mountain, but things just gotta move on. Chaka Demus & Pliers along with producers Sly & Robbie understand this, Sly and Robbie are constanatly creating new rhythms, take the fantastic Bam Bam groove which appears on several tracks, the best and original being 'Murder She Wrote', the killer track of last year. This year they slam you with 'Tease Me', an ingenuous mix of ska beat with sexual lust that drives along like a locomotive. If you read American magazines like. The Source you might have seen this album described as "bedroom music" or something like that. Those Americans just love the hardcore bogle and find the sweet soul of a lot of this just not playing the game. As indeed this is a bit of a sugar high, tracks like 'Let's Make It Tonight' make Pliers sound like Peabo Bryson, saved only by an immaculate