Tony Stamp looks back over the last few months of local releases and highlights some worth checking out.
Slow Burn by Mel Parsons
Mel Parsons Photo: Sabin Holloway
It’s no secret that Lyttleton in the South Island has housed some of our finest musicians, nestled as it is among stunning views that practically beg you to pick up an acoustic guitar and start strumming. Among those is Mel Parsons, who in September released the fifth album in a storied career, full of songs that are sometimes mournful, sometimes joyous, and always authentic.
When Parsons sings “it’s been a hard year” on the title track, we probably all jump to the same conclusion as to what she means, but I was struck by how well country music is positioned to voice that collective grief. I don’t know if that was her intention though, and she’s also not beholden to the genre, pushing at its limits on tracks like the fiery ‘Headland’.
The interplay between musicians and singer on Slow Burn is inventive and engaging, and Parsons' delivery resolutely powerful. The songs bear the hallmarks of a seasoned songwriter, but they wouldn’t work as well as they do if they weren’t so clearly genuine, and Mel Parsons has sincerity in plentiful supply.
The Water by Dale Kerrigan
Photo: Supplied
Dunedin noise-rockers Dale Kerrigan released their second album The Water in August, full of squalling riffs and pummelled drums, the odd stretch of serenity, and some very NZ lyricism. On the track ‘Stormy 2’, they hit a monotonic krautrock groove and tell a lowkey story about bad weather, punctuated by a noisy chorus in which songwriter Shlee Nichols yells “I put my raincoat on you/ I was wearing two”. Despite the rowdy attitude, it’s funny; even a bit touching.
The track ‘Scene of the Crime’ spins another yarn over similarly angular riffs, a moment that reminded me of iconic post-rockers Slint. There’s an interesting mix on The Water of everyday lyrics with towering walls of noise, which Dale Kerrigan are very good at. These seven shots of aural adrenaline come highly recommended.
Heading East by Muroki
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When local hitmaker Benee came to sign the first artist to her label Olive, she chose Raglan-raised musician Muroki. His second EP Heading East shows an artist continuing down the same cruisy path as his first, with similarly lush production. It’s pop music that’s amiable, but never afraid to get slightly melancholic.
Muroki’s distinctively buttery voice will be the main drawcard for a lot of people, and there are inspired touches that run through the EP. It draws on reggae and dance music, and has a surfer vibe that speaks to his hometown. Midway through he reaches back further to his birthplace of Kenya, on the simmering ‘Found in Nairobi’, the emotional core of this multifaceted release.
Old Dreams by Anxiety Club
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Wellington band Anxiety Club began as an alt-country outfit, but on their first album Old Dreams, have branched out stylistically as well as texturally, with as much programming as there is playing, hewing close to synth-pop, and often threading through their cynical sense of humour.
This is music that on its face seems quite serious, particularly Kev Fitzsimon’s vocal delivery, which is pristine, and brought to mind UK acts like Wild Beasts and Doves. The more you listen, the more certain aspects start to amuse.
There’s a track called 'Espresso Martini' which takes aim at hustle culture and feels like a nod to Radiohead’s ‘Fitter Happier’. The songs often benefit from pairing grandiose compositions with self-deprecating vocals. One called ‘Lonely Dancing' is followed up by the reflective ballad ‘Party All Night Long’, which features the line “what could go wrong”. The dissonance is there if you care to hear it, and if not, this is still a fine collection of slick, emotive songwriting.
Hang Low by Elliott Dawson
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Elliott Dawson plays guitar in Te Whanganui-a-Tara rock outfit Wiri Donna, and earlier this year released his debut solo album Hang Low. He cites post-rock and south London jazz as inspirations, but the music is more confrontational than either of those genres would suggest. I found it to be perplexing in a pleasant way - I was never sure where the real Dawson starts, and where the character he seems to be playing ends, but the satire of masculinity that runs through the album is never less than barbed.
Half of Hang Low operates in the same kind of twitchy, sweaty mode as the single ‘Bald Spot’, but I preferred the tracks that slowed down somewhat, like ‘Truman’, where Dawson’s warbling croon shines through, and the omnipresent saxophone gets a bit more room to breathe.
In the Marigolds by Jim Nothing
Jim Nothing Photo: Frances Carter
The always reliable Melted Ice Cream records has birthed another great jangle rock band. Jim Nothing is a vehicle for the songs of James Sullivan (based in Tamaki Makaurau Auckland), joined by Otautahi Christchurch’s Brian Feary on drums and Anita Clark of Motte on violin. Their album In the Marigolds is another local release that draws on indie rock’s expansive history and carves out its own space in the canon.
A lot of these songs are no-nonsense four-chord charmers, clocking in at an average of two minutes. They’re enlivened by Sullivan’s sturdy song structure and slightly brattish delivery, and Clark’s melodic contributions on violin.
Making music this easygoing is deceptively difficult, and Sullivan has the natural charm to pull it off. The liner notes describe the album as ‘pleasantly scuffed’, and those two words are a better description than I could ever come up with. Like the best indie rock, it lures you in, and then surprises you - with a nugget of emotion, a lyric, or a simple succession of notes.
