Of Oysters, Obsessives, and Finding the Sound

by David Kilgour

I may have made first contact with Richard when I was living in Christchurch, about to return to Dunedin after a stint in the Great Unwashed. He may have been about to release issue one of Garage and the Great Unwashed was in that issue. I think he and his partner, Vicky, had recently arrived back from a long stint out of the country. Brother Hamish had worked alongside Richard at the Evening Star newspaper in Dunedin in late 1970s.

Richard, friend of friends, music freak, surfer, art lover, embracer of life, and all of it.

Maybe we met at an oyster party (we didn't). Sounds better, right? They were only held during summer and a small bunch of us would drink and eat a sack of fresh oysters while usually listening to that month’s find of new music. (You have not eaten oysters till you've had a Bluff oyster. I’ve had American oysters and they are no oyster, more like a good mussel). Home brew as well — strong local “craft” beer.

As usual, it was an interesting time for new music and also by the mid-1980s it had become a little easier to get ahold of more obscure releases from what we then called overseas. There was also a new word — “indie,” independent.

From memory, the parties now seem like the Garage “staff” parties. The best things seem to come from small groups of people working together. Also passionate music snobs, in the nicest way, of course. So passionate, one could take your opposing musical opinion as a personal insult, or even a sign of brain damage (with tongue slightly in cheek). Perhaps repeating that mistake to you for the rest of your life. Basically an outtake from High Fidelity kiwi-style. Some of the “staff” I’d call writers, and one, a music Nazi. Friends are people that know everything about you but still wanna be your friend, right?

You must have an opinion! Even I can remember in the early 1980s storming out of a party as the people had unacceptable music tastes and could not understand the greatness of The Who Sell Out. Goodbye little people. Youth and life can give you this pith and vinegar, and so it should. Yeah music is oxygen and it needs to be pure, my kind of pure, ha!

I think what you take as bad music is probably bad for you physically, mentally, or spiritually. Or as some say, bad music can kill a culture. Bad vibrations. Music is medicine. So punk, what are you gonna do about it? Do it yourself and hey presto, a fanzine. Most of us had been youngsters when magazines like NME, CREEM, Bomp!, and Rolling Stone, were all perhaps at their peak, thanks to great writers.

I think locally Roy Colbert's second hand record store Astral Weeks (later renamed Records Records) stocked copies of some of these more obscure magazines, including Zig Zag, anyone remember Zig Zag? Pete Frames’s rock family trees? New York Rocker? Even a couple of OZ magazines from the late 1960s... which I still have.

In the early 80s, we were still waiting three months for some issues of magazines and music news to get to our shores. Some brought recent issues back from trips as very few could afford to fly in copies. We were still reliant on our own little music scenes to keep the supply of new and old music coming in. Still possibly gathering at someone's house to listen to a new LP no one else in town had.

Cassettes were big, portals to a mass of new music, mix tapes, new friends, new couches.

I guess it was the quality of the publication and the fact that for a time in New Zealand, Garage covered the generally ignored alternative shit from around the country and world. Sure, I think the glory days of the Dunedin sound were over (!) but of course, there was still a strong after flow up and down the indie country.

And just for the record, I think the ‘Dunedin Sound’ bands were The Clean, The Verlaines, The Chills, The Stones, and Sneaky Feelings. After that, it was just a free-for-all after the fact, really.

Were The Enemy important? Yeah? Were they a ‘Dunedin Sound’ band? No. Did they change my life? Yeah! Alec Bathgate’s guitar playing was my shining light at the time. From my perspective, the seeds to the whole thing trace back to about 1975. They were sown by a group of about ten music friends, including from the about-to-be-formed, The Enemy: Chris Knox, Mick Dawson, Doug Hood, Chris Moody, and about-to-be-Clean brother, Hamish.

Anyway, by 1985 the underground still seemed kind of, well, underground. Rip It Up sure weren't covering Roky Erickson or Victor Dimisich Band! Of course fanzines are going to arise out of such an almost post-punk stew. Fan magazine. And the arts are always up against it, in any country at any time. Alternatives are always needed.

And this is before recorded music became “free”. From the get-go Garage had an identifiable look. I always loved the hard contrast black and white look of the covers and the almost slapstick look overall. Richard's friends and helpers seemed to be all well-read literature hounds, academics even, teachers, lager louts, musicians, and yes, Richard is and was a journalist. Which helps when you're a rabid music freak trying to write with passion and smarts.

It's no surprise the writing throughout all the issues is right on the button, but always unashamedly caring. Sure this was Richard's project, but from the outside it seemed a group effort. From hazy memory, it seemed we were all unemployed during this period. I know Richard and I surfed together a lot over a few summers there before jobs, houses, babies, world tours, and contracts took over somewhat.

What I’ve been trying to say is Garage was an excellent fanzine that is now an important historical document all wrapped up in a book.

Thanks for the plug Richard, your name’s on the door, plus one.

Pull Down The Shades: Garage Fanzine 1984–86 – Tales From The New Zealand Music Underground by Richard Langston is published by HoZac Books. It is reviewed in The Wire 473. Wire subscribers can read the article online via the digital library.