Tony felt suddenly acutely self conscious of his own freshly laundered clothes, which smelled of the eucalyptus fabric softener used by his mother that, of all the scents of his childhood, held the strongest associations for him of being home (Eleanor Catton)

Wie geht's?

This post is inspired by my good friend GK who suggested I read Birnam Wood. He was keen to hear about my opinions of the actual writing. So here goes with my initial impressions, GK, bearing in mind that I'm only 50 or so pages into it.

Yeah boy, time for some literary criticism, Wozza style.

First things first: I'm happily reading it. I look forward to picking it up.

Partly, because I feel that Catton is writing so that I might enjoy the experience of reading. She credits her readers with some intelligence and I like that. 

Now, I'm no literary snob, I love reading pulp fiction as much as the next philistine.  I'm a big fan of Lee Child novels for instance, but Birnam Wood isn't a novel that I can read in a day or two because it's like someone speaking to me in one or two syllable words. 

Instead, I have to read Birnam Wood in a deliberate way; concentrating and being present. If my mind wanders I lose track.

In that way it's like a Dickens' novel or a Shakespearean play - she invites that comparison with a title like Birnam Wood (her name for a collective of opportunistic market gardeners).

Like the work of those two giants of literature, it doesn't take long to adjust the brain and get in the groove of the writing. 

It also doesn't take long to realise that the language is rich, the sentences are often complex and labyrinthine, and the characters have real depth. Hey! She won The Booker Prize, so she knows what she's doing!

Interestingly, I'm noticing some distinct stylistic changes which suit different subject matter. The interior monologue and character motivation stuff, for instance, tends to be convoluted and that suits the context, while there are plainer, simpler sections for simpler exposition. They all flow quite seamlessly so it's not that obvious and it doesn't get in the way of my enjoyment.

All up, it deserves to be widely read and enjoyed (rather than just admired). That's pretty high praise from me.

Love and peace - WNP

Wozza's web.

Wie geht's?

When Jade was very young - for a couple of years around 3 to 5 years old, she loved to watch Dumbo, the movie, over and over again. She must have watched it about 200 times I reckon.

She never got tired of it. Every time she watched it she would cry at the same scene - with the mother in a cage arching her trunk out to comfort little Dumbo, who was outside that cage.

Next time she had a chance to watch TV, she'd ask for Dumbo again. As I say, this went on for a few years. Same deal - Dumbo, same crying, same request to watch it again.

This gave rise to the idea of Dumbo movies, books, songs - whatever.  Things that could be watched over and over again with no loss of enjoyment.

Hold that thought.

For a while there, a couple of my mates and I were making Spotify playlists for fun. They're based around some themes, such as songs with a place name in the title, or a person's name, or with body parts in the title (a Kevy suggestion that one), or songs of the year - that sort of thing.

It was fun, but we've gone into a lengthy on-going hiatus (I know that's an oxymoron but it's accurate). Probably through exhaustion! The lists were big motor truckers. Over 200 songs for most of them.

Still, I loved making Spotify playlists.

So, I decided to make my own while on this hiatus. So far I've finished one and the other is a work in progress.

This's where the Dumbo idea comes in.

Wozza's Wonders assembles all the Dumbo songs that roll around in my brain. Again - there are over 200 of them. I feels good having them in one place.

The work in progress is called Wozza's Women - where I'm compiling a playlist of my favourite songs featuring a female vocalist. 

And yes - I like alliteration, okay. A few more potential options are: Wozza's Wailings (heavy songs); Wozza's Waves (summer/beach songs); Wozza's Weaknesses (guilty pleasures); Wozza's Weather (songs about the weather obvs); Wozza's Wildlife (animals); Wozza's Whines (moany ones); Wozza's Winners; Wozza's Wise Wons; Wozza's Wordy Wons; Wozza's Workout; Wozza's Withdrawals (drug songs) and Wozza's Winkers (misprint). There's probably a few more I haven't thought about. So the lists could be going for a while yet.

But I digress.

For Wozza's Women, I thought it would be easy to put a song a year since 1957 on the playlist but it quickly became impossible to choose just one representative so I added the parenthetical bit (At least) to 'one song for ever year...'

I'm up to 1974 so I have a fair way to go. But even in those years from 1957 to 1973 I've rediscovered a huge number of brilliant female vocalists. You're welcome to join the journey.

Love and peace - Wozza

Me and Jenny, twinklin' like crystal and pennies (Carly Simon)

Wie geht's?

A recent article that I bookmarked on platonic male friendships asked the rhetorical question: ever feel like you were fated to be friends with someone?

Well yes, I have.

At school, once in a year group you hardly ever knew kids in the year above or below. It's the way it goes when students are groups according to age. Maybe this silo-ing of friendship groups still happens.

In The Beatles the age range between John/Paul/George was three years. John was two years older than Paul, three years older than George. That combo only happened because Paul was introduced to John by a friend, and Paul and George were school friends, otherwise John wouldn't normally meet George. Ringo came along later. Fate.

At M.A.G.S., in my first School Certificate year (a.k.a. 5th form or Year 11 in new money) I was in class with boys of my year like Mike Budd, Vernon Kingstone and Peter Cahill who had failed School C the year before and had to repeat the year - that's how I met Loo Loo's brother Brian who was a year older than me.

In turn, when I failed School C, boys in the year below me caught up with me - that's how I met Greg Knowles. Fate.

So, unusually, my friendship group was spread over three years thanks to my ineptitude a sitting School C and the way M.A.G.S. organised their classes. 

While looking at Facebook posts by guys following M.A.G.S's 100 year anniversary, I was again reminded of this friendship phenomenon. I recognised very few boys in the other years beyond that three year spread. 

That phrase about brothers from different mothers really applies to Greg and me - our shared history and thoughts about music so closely align that I'm sure Kevy things we sneak a peak at each other's reviews before we hit publish.

At Auckland University, Greg and I fortuitiously met a different bunch of people (Loo Loo was the conduit), some of whom have become life-long amigos. As a consequence K Simms, G Knowles, L Wood and I have had an easy friendship for well over 40 something years now.  

That article included an analysis of the writer's male friendship group that largely resonated with our own three male amigo interactions:

A substantial amount of my interaction with male friends involves talking shit with one another: jokes, fake insults, gossip, arguments about songs. This might seem impersonal, unemotional, but in fact the digs that Sean and I deliver to each other are based on the particulars of decades of playful banter; each fresh debate with Ehren about a new album advances a conversation we’ve been engaged in since 1994. And interspersed with these rituals are real revelations about our own lives, our partners, our dreams, our families.

There you go. Fate.

Love and peace - Wozza

The five colours blind the eye. The five tones deafen the ear. The five flavours cloy the palate. Racing and hunting madden the mind (Lao Tzu)

Photo by Arno Smit on Unsplash

Wie geht's?

There isn't much that you would call 'exciting' happening in Wozza's World right now. That's a good thing.

As Lao Tzu says, 'Racing and hunting madden the mind'.

Two weeks left of the school year, Nu Zild is in a holding pattern with containment efforts for the spread of covid-19 actually working so far (we're moving away from lockdowns and into a traffic light system that no one seems to understand), and spring is holding on - sharp coolish mornings in Central Hawke's Bay that eventually go sunny and warm.

It all feels like a kind of a lull and that's welcome - life can't be full bore, pedal to the meddle, 24-7.  

These are the crucial times of tranquil restoration that Wordsworth talks of in Tintern Abbey:

In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
And passing even into my purer mind,
With tranquil restoration.

In my case, rather than think of the area around Tintern Abbey, it's a daily recollection of my friendship with two chums and how our lives, our friendship and love of music are intertwined.  

Love and peace - Wozza

I can give you the present, I don't know 'bout the future - that's all stuff and nonsense (Split Enz)

Wie geht's?

Those of you who aren't that predisposed to my rantings and ravings on topics related to music can look away now.

Come on! You know who you are!

Okay. For the rest of you who want to stick around: this one is going to be inspired by my thoughts while reading Mike Chunn's latest memoir - A Sharp Left Turn.

Let's get the Wozza review over with quickly - although he still has an idiosyncratic floral writing style at times, this is a much more rewarding read than Stranger Than Fiction - his previous attempt to chronicle his life with the Enz. 

Interested in life in Auckland in the second half of last century? Or NZ music? Or delving into the troubling world of panic attacks and agoraphobia? Or a Split Enz fan? Or a Citizen Band fan? Go buy a copy!

As I was reading it I had no trouble identifying with Mike Chunn. Like him - I grew up in 1960's Auckland, went to a traditional boys school in the seventies, then Auckland University, and I've experienced some debilitating panic attacks through my life.

Unlike him, I'm a couple of years younger, I was a day boy, I did an arts degree, I can't play any musical instrument, and my panic attacks weren't frequent enough for me to seek medicinal assistance.

While reading, it turns out that our lives also intersected in the audience at some seminal gigs during those Enz/CB years.

We were both at the After Hours/ Waves gig at the Maidment Arts Theatre (Auckland University), watching Geoffrey Chunn and Neil Finn play in After Hours before Waves performed. I was there with my mate - Greg Knowles.

Greg and I also went to the Auckland Town Hall on May 25th to see the Enz on their 1979 Give It A Whirl tour (ex Enzer Phil Judd's next band - The Swingers were the support and I remember complaining to Greg that they were too damn loud), then we were all at His Majesty's Theatre for a sublime Enz gig.

I watched the Enz and CB perform at Nambassa (truth to tell I remember watching the Enz but was too knackered to fully focus on the Citizen Band who followed them).

Finally, Greg, Kevin Simms and I watched the slicker Enz at the Logan Campbell Centre (I remember us discussing what song they'd start with as we waited).

While reading I dug out my Enz and CB recordings (including a bootleg concert CB Live at Mandrill Studios) and enjoyed reliving some amazing musical memories.

Thanks for that Mike. 

Love and peace - Wozza

She's a star collector, collector of stars (The Monkees)

12 Zappa albums (the other 48 not pictured)

Wie geht's?

This one is about fatal attractions and a peculiar set of obsessions. 

It's also dedicated to Noel Forth (an Aussie friend from the mid seventies who I've never met but he's still a close friend because he certainly gets me and shares my obsession) and Greg Knowles/ Kevin Simms (two of my close friends who recently told me that I need to write longer posts on this blog - get yourselves a beverage boys and strap in).

On my phone I have a list of records that I'm searching for. That will not be a surprise to anyone who knows me.

It's divided into two parts: really hard to find ones that I need to find to complete certain parts of my collection or Noel's (yes - 'need'). The second part has the ones that are more readily available and I'm keen to buy them if I come across them but only for the right price. I love a bargain.

An example from that first list are rare Beatles records or albums on the Apple Records label. Some are things that Noel is searching for - NZ Apple albums with an orange apple on the record label or a NZ copy of Ringo's Beaucoup Of Blues on Apple Records. That sort of thing.

That first part is made up of albums that we need because we are obsessed with owning everything that was ever produced by an artist, like the Beatles. And we are special slaves to Apple Records (Parlophone doesn't grab us like Apple does).

Okay, now that's impossible if you factor in every Beatles record made in every country of the world for the last 60ish years. So we rationalise our way through this dilly of a pickle (we're not crazy). In Noel's case he wants to own every album that was released in NZ using the orange Apple label. Fair enough.

I don't care about the country - I just want a copy of every record The Beatles and Apple Records produced. 

This need is a strange one I grant you.

Many people collect weird and wonderful things - there are many arcane museums throughout the world dedicated to bizarre collections that appeal to some pretty esoteric people.

The choice is down to the individual but the same drive to accumulate stuff is common to us all.

Kevin is a fanatical collector of Split Enz material for instance. Something lit a fire in his imagination and that desire and purpose burrowed deep under his skin. I get it.

Greg collected Jim Croce and Monkees records until he gave all his Monkees albums to me - the force is strong in that one!

It was a growing obsession with John Lennon's records in the mid seventies that started it all for me. Once I had the easily accessible albums (Imagine, Sometime In New York, Mind Games and John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band), I wanted all his previous albums that were impossible to find in the early seventies.

So I wrote to music papers in the UK (which felt like posting to Neptune back then) asking where I could find The Wedding Album, Two Virgins, Live Peace in Toronto and Life With The Lions. They printed my letter and Noel Forth read it and wrote to me.

Then the obsession took root for good and proper because Noel turned out to be a godsend. He helped me find those records. But not only that - he was a musician - a drummer with his own band - Tortis (which changed into Vertical Hold) and he was/is insanely knowledgeable about music with some great rock'n'roll stories.

Weirdly we also have the same wider tastes in music and he's a fellow Arsenal supporter. Big brother figure? You betcha! 

Recently we discovered a shared interest in Frank Zappa's music, although neither of us are Zappa obsessed completists. He has 38 Zappa albums, I have 60. This got me thinking.

Out of all the groups who have ever been, why is it that I have a list of around 30 Bands/labels/musicians* that I call Fatal Attractions on my phone? What is special about them? And why is it Zappa isn't on the list, although I have 60 of his albums in my collection?

* It's mainly music I'm obsessed with - William Goldman is the only writer who I'd put in this category.

First though - let's compare two lists (yes, you know I love lists)

Here's List A:

• The Rolling Stones - I own 34 albums
• Bob Dylan - 39 albums
• David Bowie - 16 albums
• Grateful Dead - 17 albums
• David Gray - 13 albums
• The Kinks - 9 albums
• The Hollies - 21 albums 
• Crowded House - 6 albums

Let's call this the Zappa list. These albums are by musicians I love but I don't feel the need to own everything they've ever done (although I do need to own all of Dylan's Rolling Thunder Revue albums - go figure).  

Yes, even though I own 60 records by Frank Zappa and the Mothers Of Invention, for some reason I'm not drawn into getting Cruising With Ruben And The Jets, The Yellow Shark and the other missing pieces.

Here's List B - the Fatal Attractions:

• Apple Records label (+ Dark Horse Records)
• Bark Records label
• The Beach Boys (+ solo except for Mike Love)
• The Beatles (+ solo)
• Big Country
• Jack Bruce
• Crosby Stills Nash and Young (+ solo CSN)
• The Datsuns
• Deep Purple
• Emerson Lake And Palmer (not solo, but + The Nice)
• Faces 
• Rory Gallagher
• The Guess Who
• Hot Tuna
• Jefferson Airplane/Jefferson Starhip/ Starship (+ solo)
• The Marshall Tucker Band
• Moody Blues (+ solo)
• Mountain (+ solo)
• Porcupine Tree/ Steven Wilson solo
• Procol Harum (+ Gary Brooker solo)
• Raspberries (+ Eric Carmen solo)
• Santana
• Patti Smith
• Bruce Springsteen
• Tears For Fears
• Ten Years After
• Yes (not solo)

That's the list where I'll forgive shoddy and weak albums as I must have the complete picture.

How to explain all this? Why Steven Wilson but not David Bowie? Why Patti Smith but not Bob Dylan? Why The Datsuns but not Crowded House?

obsession

/əbˈsɛʃ(ə)n/

Learn to pronounce

noun

1. an idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a person's mind.

   • plural noun: obsessions

     "he was in the grip of an obsession he was powerless to resist"

Hmm - I'm not continually reoccupied, but I guess I am pre-occupied at times with the need to own some albums, but not others.

This differentiation doesn't make sense to me.

I guess, fundamentally, this is a manifestation of Obessive-Compulsive Disorder - but in my case it's a mild case, as it doesn't cause me distress. Quite the opposite actually - I get great great pleasure from collecting records.

Apart from some rare albums I lost in a house move a few years ago, I don't lie awake at night and dream of records I don't have. That house move will haunt me forever though. 

And I suppose I could go to Discogs with my list and clean up some of the few remaining holes in my collection. But, for some reason, I don't. I prefer to wait it out and experience the thrill of the chase. 

I love browsing record bins and finding another part of the jigsaw (like when I found a Beatles' bootleg at Real Groovy Records recently called No Obvious Title, a record Noel sent me some 50 years ago but was among those lost in that house move).

I'm also not prone to the compulsions part of OCD, nor have my obsessions taken over my life - apart from needing a room to house them that is. 

And so, back to those questions - why one, not the other? I can justify each one pretty succinctly.

Why Steven Wilson but not David Bowie? Why Patti Smith but not Bob Dylan? Why The Datsuns but not Crowded House?

Often a run of dire albums, or even one disaster, can turn me away. I was a keen Dylan collector until Self-Portrait did me in. I was with Neil Young all the way until the bizarre 80's albums on Geffin.

With a lot of the Fatal Attractions it's because they are constantly providing different looks with sustained quality - hence Patti Smith and Steven Wilson. Bowie is an interesting anomaly. I somehow lost focus on him around the mid seventies.

The Datsuns provide a personal connection (Cambridge High School) over Crowded House (even though I sat a few rows behind Neil Finn at the Auckland McCartney concert). 

But then there are the arbitary ones like The Marshall Tucker Band and Tears For Fears. Bands that somehow got their hook into me.

Like I said before: it often doesn't make sense.

Bottom line: although Jacky often introduces me as a 'vinyl junkie', collecting records is still a hobby for me. One that I share with hundreds of other New Zealanders if the Vinyl Lovers of NZ group on Facebook proves anything, and it's harmless enough, right?

Okay - now. Where's that copy of Frank Zappa For President? I have a hankering to play that one today!

Love and peace - Wozza

Old friends, memory brushes the same years (Simon and Garfunkel)

Wie geht's?

It's been a big week. Two days in Auckland for a series of meetings with my Principal colleagues gave me an opportunity to visit Real Groovy (pictured by Greg above) on the way to a dinner reunion with old friends (as in - we've been friends for a loooooooong time).

Knowing Greg from school was the key to meeting an interesting eclectic collection of people at Auckland University back in the late seventies. It was only three years of our lives but the bonds are strong with Kevin and Linley.  Even though I haven't seen her for 40 years it was instant repartee!! And Gregarious? Well Greg is the boy wonder to my Batman!

We realised as we laughed and ate, laughed and reminisced, and laughed some more that we didn't have a photo of the whole crew from back in the day. That's a shame but it also means our romanticised memories of our former glory days as a group are well and truly intact.

It was a great catch up. It's always a special time with this bunch of old friends.

Love and peace - Wozza

Remember if you must, this is just a Christmas song (Jethro Tull)

Wie geht's?

Christmas 2011. Where were you?

If you are part of the Brian Smith whanau, including as it does the O'Neill, Purdy, Dix families, then you were most likely on Waiheke Island unwrapping presents and enjoying Jacky's trifle.

Returning for the festive season of 2011, Jacky and I were back from Al Ain briefly to enjoy a New Zealand summer break.

Being in Waiheke and close to Auckland, we met up with Keegan and Adam, plus I had a reunion with my buddy, Greg, and a visit to Marbecks in the Queen's Arcade before we had to return to the Middle East.

The christmas celebrations on Waiheke included great views, tuis in the trees, excellent company and the aforementioned trifle (Brian cleaned up the bowl).

The end.

Love and peace - Wozza

I should be on that train and gone, I should be ridin' on that train to San Antone (The Monkees)

Wie geht's?

Box of fluffies - thanks for asking!

This one's about Radio Wozza Wozza Wozza.

It plays on my ipod during the daily commute along Highway 50 to Hastings and the OneSchool Global site. Remember?

Recently I ditched all the music on it from the UK and started again. Aim: all killer, no filler.

So I concentrated on loading all my Greatest Hits albums and then my favourite albums of all time.

Woh Nelly!!! It. Is. Awesome.

But anyway, as I pootled along today a Monkees song came on as I charged downward towards Maraekakaho.

Specifically, What Am I Doing Hangin' 'round, sung brilliantly by Mike Nesmith.




Instantly, and for an fleeting instant, I was back in the Auckland Town Hall earlier this year, sitting with my mates Gregarious and the Kevinator, watching Mike and Mikey.

Sheer bliss; big grin on my face. Did I sing along? Oh boy oh boy, did I!!

Love and peace - Wozza

Summer, Buddy Holly, the working folly, Good golly, Miss Molly and boats, Hammersmith Palais, the Bolshoi Ballet, Jump back in the alley and nanny goats (Ian Dury)

Photo by Erick Tang on Unsplash

50 Reasons to be cheerful in 2017:

• Looking forward, each week, to James Whatley's Five Things on a Friday 
• Christmas visits from the family (Jade, Adam, Samantha)
• Blacklist binges on Netflix
• Reading my newspaper The Walrus Gumboot - courtesy of Paper.li
• Medium.com stories - usually a few gems with each edition, although the message that I'd exceeded my monthly quota was annoying
• Seeing Jerry Seinfeld with Jade
• Morning feel good quotes for/from the staff at morning briefings
• Vox sentences
• Watching Dunkirk with Jacky
• Thomas Oppong's articles via Medium.com
• Star Wars: The Last Jedi 
• Austin Kleon's newsletter that comes into my inbox regularly
• Lunchtime walks with my coach, Liz
• Paul McCartney on December 16 at Mt Smart Stadium, Auckland
• Lindsay Hope's CD collection will be giving pleasure for a long time to come
• Seth Godin's blog, which comes every day, regularly provides food for thought 
• November trip to Keri Keri for a weekend thanks to the kids
• Dan Rockwell's advice, again every day, has pearls of regular wisdom
• Whatsapp - the vehicle for hilarious fandamily interactions
• Netflix has provided great viewing throughout the year
• The Arsenal victory over Spurs was a tonic in an otherwise forgettable season, again
• Greg Knowles' Seventies Music blog provides a shedload of memories
• Daily writing on my blogs
• Visiting Universal Studios at the start of the year with Samantha
• Regular visits to Real Groovy in Auckland for vinyl 
• Marbeck's Records and JB Hi-Fi are still providing CD fixes
• Messages and videos from Noel Forth via Messenger
• Facebook hilarity from mates Greg Knowles and Kevin Simms
• Driving with Samantha and Jacky from San Francisco to LA along the Pacific coast
• Disneyland with Jacky - the happiest place on earth for us
• IHOP Anaheim and blueberry pancakes
• The view from the top of the Brynderwyn Hills looking towards Whangarei
• Autumn, every year
• Card for my 60th birthday from my staff
• Playing backyard cricket with the kids again
• 366 Days With Wisdom by Venerable Master Hsing Yun
• The Hard Rock Cafes in London and San Francisco
• Finding the new copy of West Bruce and Laing's Whatever Turns You On
• Reading 50 books in the year and fulfilling a goal
• Our new Border Collie, Jerry, and his surviving Parvo
• Seeing Jeanette Thomas at the Macca concert
• The organic Whole Life Cafe in Maungaturoto is a life saver
• Taking the ferry to Russell
• The drive from Russell to Whangarei that takes in the Helena Bay Hill Gallery and Cafe (great, great gardens)
• The spectacular tree outside my ART room
• Seeing Keegan happy and purposeful in China
• The view from our lounge towards the Bryderwyns
• Building the horse yards for Grace and Beetlebaum
• Playing ball chase games with Jerry
• Browsing in Amoeba Records, San Francisco
• Mocha at the Beach Cafe Ruakaka (my cup runneth over - this being #51)

Love and peace and into 2018 we go...Wozza

Old friends, memory brushes the same years (Simon and Garfunkel)

Photo by rawpixel.com on Unsplash

Pals, buddies, mates, chums. 

Friendship. That's what this post is about. 

Hooked? Well - lay on, Macduff, and damned be him who first cries 'hold!'

I love Jerry Seinfeld's riff on friendship: 

When you're in your thirties it's very hard to make a new friend. Whatever the group is that you've got now that's who you're going with, you're not interviewing, you're not looking at any new people, you're not interested in seeing any applications.  

As for someone like me in my late fifties (for a few more days people, for a few more days), I largely stopped hiring decades ago.

My whanau list below has a number of people on it who I love but many I never hear from anymore. Yet, I know, for a large number of them, as soon as we reestablish contact...bam. Instant connection.

A connection forged from shared history.

My oldest chums that I pal around with via Facebook and email are few in number but incredibly important to me. Frinstance, GK (a.k.a. Billy Wallace) and I have been mates since 1974.

Recently, he reminded me of a time we collapsed into hilarity over a story in Craccum - Auckland University's student newspaper. 

Collapsing into laughter (with Kevin Simms usually on board as well) was an occupational hazard in those days.

Recently, I was in Real Groovy wading through the vinyl sale bins when three young male hipsters walked in loudly. For the next half hour they laughed their private jokes, kidded each other about certain albums, and engaged in a wide variety of banter. All pretty loud and obnoxious.

I was immediately presented with a picture of how Greg, Kevy and I must have looked as we visited Real Groovy back in the day.

Good times, Billy. Good times.

Love and peace - Wozza

Oh, look around you, all around you, riding on a copper wave (Patti Smith)

Music is love (You may say I'm a dreamer - Chapter 7: The Seventies Part 2)

Roger in his new pop/rock Marbecks Records

Welcome to the second part of my seventies celebration - the AM (After Marbecks) period - 1976-1982.

Three important life changing events happened in this period. One and two, as I indicated in the previous post, involved meeting Greg Knowles and starting to write to Noel Forth in Adelaide. And the third? I met Roger Marbeck and started working for and with him.

During AM, Greg and I established a weekly pattern of record buying that fed both our habits. 

It went a little something like this: after school on a Friday we would catch a bus into K Rd.

We'd start with George Courts and Rendells in K Rd, then cross the road to The Record Exchange in St Kevin's Arcade, take a wander through Myers Park to Queen Street and work our way down to the end of the road, taking in some of the record shops we came across until we got to Marbecks Records in the Queen's Arcade and the EMI shop in the new Downtown Mall. 

Along that route during these years were a exceptionally large number of record stores: 246's record bar on the second floor, Direction Records, the Record Warehouse, Lewis Eady, Arthur Eady, Taste Records in Lorne Street, down the stairs to Music City in Vulcan Lane, Peaches, Rock'n'Roll Records, and a few more on the side streets whose names I've forgotten.

Watching Split Enz with the Knowleses

This would take hours! We'd walk, chat, spitball, browse, buy - but mainly browse, laugh, joke, people watch, grab a coke (me) or a milkshake (Greg), walk, laugh...

Then we'd get the bus home. I had my drivers' licence by this time so I'd sometimes drive to Greg's and I'd often bus from there. 

Enz at the old His Majesty's 

Greg and I have different tastes so we were never really competing for the same records. It was always supportive. We'd even try to find things we knew the other would like. We'd often trade/swap records - notably I got a lot of Apple singles from Greg. It has been a great relationship and a lasting friendship that I REALLY value.

According to Neil Young, there ain't nothing like a friend who can tell you you're just pissing in the wind.

Often with his big brother, Mike, we also went to gigs together. We saw loads of NZ bands in these years - Split Enz, Golden Harvest, Waves, Streettalk, Hello Sailor, Citizen Band and so on.

During AM, in 1977, we both started student life at Auckland University. While our old school day era routine obviously changed, our frequent trips to Real Groovy (now on Queen's Street after a short stint at the top of Mt Eden Road) and Marbecks, didn't. We also inducted other like minded music lovers, like Kevin Simms, into our arcane routines.

Haydn and Murray as I knew them. Great guys!

Marbecks Records was a special place. It was thanks to Noel that I discovered Marbecks. He alerted me to the delights on offer in that funny little shop in the Queen's Arcade. 

They had a box of Apple singles that I would often ask to see and buy from for Noel and for me. In the shop were two old guys in their white business shirts and ties: Avuncular Murray Marbeck was clearly the boss; Haydn Marbeck was the mischievious, sarcastic, younger brother. A very cheeky female shop assistant was also there to serve us. They were never condescending, always very knowledgeable and obliging. I must have asked for that box of Apple singles dozens of times!

Then one day there was a young guy behind the counter as well (it was getting pretty cramped back there) -  a guy about our age. Another Marbeck had joined the family firm. We would chat with Roger who immediately impressed us with his musical knowledge and his easy going manner. We were speaking the same language! 

Apart from Apple singles, Marbecks also had a range of Apple albums and weird stuff that was unmatched by the other stores. AM was timed around the punk outbreak remember and a lot of those other stores were practising a sad devotion to that ancient religion. Marbecks Records suited me. Clearly, with shirts and ties, it wasn't a slave to punk fashion.

Around this time, end of school, start of University, I had a summer job working as a chain man/gofer for a surveying company. The engineers and surveyors were cool to work for during my holiday breaks. I had a lot of fun there, but I'd had had enough of painting boundary pegs.

Roger Marbeck loves music.

The Rock and Roll lure was strong! When I asked Roger if he needed a hand during the peak holiday periods to help him and shop assistant Vanessa in the new pop/rock shop opposite the classical one in the arcade, he said, "Yeah! Okay."

Brilliant! Not only could I sift through the bins for free, I could take my pay in records (some weeks I actually paid Roger to work in the store).

And that's what happened in my long summer holidays from 1978 until 1982 (and again later - whenever we found ourselves living in Auckland). It was glorious fun! Ness, Roger and I got on really well. The arrangement suited us all. I would have a weekly pile of records put aside and collect them on pay day! Ness had a co-worker and Roger had someone else to share the load and order about! It was perfect.

Murray and Haydn were also great guys. Haydn gave me heaps! Murray was always a real gentleman. Mum remembered having dealings with young Murray when she worked at Lewis Eady and she always regarded him highly. She always referred to him as Mr Marbeck.

Friday nights were my favourite time in the store. Not only were there slower hours and that meant I got to choose what we listened to, but it also meant food. Haydn would order Chinese takeaways and we'd take it in turns to eat across the arcade, upstairs in the classical shop.

Somehow, I would often (I hesitate to say, always, but it felt like that) get to share my meal time with Haydn and he was hilarious! And rude! His jokes were always accompanied by twinkly eyes and a dirty laugh. Great times!

I especially loved working with Roger. He's like Greg - a funny, fun, genuine guy who is into music. Our friendship developed naturally. I met his girlfriend, Deirdre Dunn, and we'd all spend time together. I would even stay over at their place in Canongate Street from time to time. I helped out with digging out their basement and Roger gave me a boxed set of Cream albums as a bonus. I enjoyed his company and we listened to a lot of great music.  

I went to his wedding to Deirdre with my date, Lynley Wood, and, in 1984, the Marbecks came to mine, all the way down in New Plymouth. Then we started having our children around the same time: Jessica was matched by Keegan and Adam; Logan/Samantha; Briar/Jade - we were ahead 4 to 3 when we each decided that was enough. Through those young years we shared holidays and family time (more to come in the Family Man chapter). 

Over the years, Roger became a big brother figure and like a big brother whose record collection is really cool, he hugely influenced my listening!

The collection in the AM era

One upshot of this friendship was that my collection expanded and expanded. Both in quality and quantity. For three reasons: one, working at Marbecks meant access not only to its resources but also to Roger's musical brain and superb taste; two, my teaching studentship - I now had discretionary income; and three, I had no dependents - there was just me. 

My university years were great self indulgent times. No one to think about, other than me, and what records I was going to buy. Oh and my studies. I did study hard, too.

Nice one Rory!

Two concerts from the AM era need a mention: Rory Gallagher's 1980 visit to Auckland's Town Hall and George Thorogood at the same venue. For both, somehow, I went on my own. Along with the Nambassa festival, they were amazing experiences and the Rory one tops my gig going list!

The AM era contained the golden years! From 1983 onwards record buying would take a back seat and dry up, as you'll read about in part 3 - AJ (After Jacky).

But before then, let's luxuriate in my second seventies list - my top 20 picks of AM!

20 Easter - Patti Smith (1978)

In a lecture room in the Old Arts Building at Auckland University, Roger and Wystan played Babelogue/ Rock and Roll Nigger to us during their 20th century American poetry paper. I was transformed by the experience!

19 The Clash - London Calling (1979)
Cousin Christine sent me a punk special cassette with White Riot on it among other delights. Life in cosy sleepy NZ was light years away from what The Clash and others were railing against. It would take me some time to get into bands like The Clash. London Calling was much more accessible.

18 Jackson Browne – Jackson Browne (1978)
This is a prime example of someone I wouldn't have discovered without Roger and Marbeck's influence.

17 Rastaman Vibration – Bob Marley and the Wailers (1976)

16 Exodus – Bob Marley and the Wailers (1977)

15 American Stars and Bars - Neil Young (1977)

Watching him do Like A Hurricane on TV (Barry Jenkin's Grunt Machine I think or early Radio With Pictures) with the wind machines howling along with the guitar was similar to my Ed Sullivan/ Beatles moment.

14 Never Mind the Bollocks Here’s the Sex Pistols – Sex Pistols (1977)

13 Live – Status Quo (1977)
I taped this off the radio - I did that a lot back then because I didn't have unlimited financial resources. Then at Marbecks I'd play this in the shop during quiet moments (in between the best sellers that Roger needed to promote with high rotation).

12 Parallel Lines - Blondie (1978)

11 Terrapin Station – the Grateful Dead (1977)

Roger was a fan of the band - Mars Hotel era especially. I hadn't seen the appeal until then, but I somehow got hooked and this album in particular went on high rotate.

10 Bat Out of Hell – Meatloaf (1977)

I'm instantly transported to the games room at Ramelton Road when I hear this album. I was normally suspicious of mega sellers and avoided them but this was too much fun!

9 Moonflower – Santana (1977)

8 Aja – Steely Dan (1977)

7 Marquee Moon – Television (1977)

Dad, now Managing Director of Wellcome NZ, went on business trips to Sydney from time to time during the AM period. I would put in orders of records and he was a trooper - always came back with a few from my list.

6 Horses – Patti Smith (1976)

Lynley Wood was a fan. She told me about this record as we were standing around outside the University library in 1977. She was so enthusiastic, she talked me into it and she was right!

5 Hard Rain – Bob Dylan (1976)

4 Tejas – ZZ Top (1976)

3 If You Want Blood You’ve Got It – AC/DC (1978)

2 Showtime – Ry Cooder (1977)  

I read an amazing review of this record in Sounds by Barbara Charone (she always wrote well and I kept a clipping of the review). Coincidentally, I heard Jesus On The Mainline on the radio around the same time. Combined, these events convinced me to take a punt.

1 Hejira – Joni Mitchell (1976)  

Of all these albums and of all of Joni's albums - this is the one I play most often. Every time, I convince myself that I'll get it this time (what she's talking/singing about) and every time she leaves me daydreaming about an image and my thoughts wander. I love that.

Love and peace - Wozza