The sad and sorry state of the Tauranga Music scene has been well
documented within the pages of this pseudo publication but as I write and rant
and rant and write continuing to further mine the same basic material it occurs
to me that Tauranga Music isn't so bad after all. Yes, we have no fans. No,
there still aren't any real venues. Yes, 98% of the musicians are pretentious,
talentless dickheads whose tunes are so repulsively bad they make Timbaland
look like Chopin. And no, there isn’t any chance of a projected turn around.
But we have our reasons for our numbing mediocrity and we are happy with our
dilapidated state now that we have come to terms with the vast all encompassing
artistic emptiness that shadows this city. Tauranga while a major New Zealand
shitty in terms of population if nothing else was never going to be, nor ever
will be, another Wellington/Auckland/Dunedin. We are not faggy, tea drinking,
pointed nose, inner city dwelling, studio loft leasing, art and design
studying, jazz appreciating , Sudoku doing, boat shoe wearing hipster homos. We
are not skin moisturizing, hair gelling, European fashion label modeling,
catwalk aspiring, Iphone carrying, Frankzappachino sipping, metrosexual musical
manginas. We are not airy fairy, hoity toity, sun god praying, flower children,
spinning on acid tabs marked with the dour face of Che Guevara , floating on
the clouds, buzzing with the bees and back clasping with the native trees
southern spiritual shamans of studential soul music. We wear stubbies, beat our
wives, yell obscenities at the delayed provincial rugby coverage, only read
softcore porn and only on the shitter, never recycle unless it is to help in
our home brewing endeavors, listen to Hauraki exclusively when driving above
the speed limit in our Hilux Utes, only know how to play the main riff to Enter
Sandman on the guitar and count Bruce Willis as one of our personal heroes. We
are Tauranga and we can't help that our music sux… We have good weather, we
have clean air, we have green fields, we have beautiful beaches and we have
good looking women. These elements are not conducive to good music as we are having
such a good time living our free, easy, happy and natural lives that we just can't
get all worked up when our girlfriends break up with us and how they’re now going
out with our former best friend Sven 'Because he does real great surrealist art,
cares about things…THINGS!!! And loves animals...' Tauranga is the garden of Eden, apples,
snakes, naked women, forest frolics. Music is our forbidden fruit but who cares
when we have so much else to keep us entertained. As for the rest of New
Zealand it's a barren, desolate, desert. What to do in a desert? Die, ride a
camel, drink peyote juice, have a shootout, chew tobacco, eat a taco or face
the elements and write some awesome tunes. Ones that depict the horrid nature
of your subpar non Tauranga existence, but you are failing New Zealand and
dismally so. Tauranga music may suck but New Zealand music blows....
THE MUSIC
New Zealand throughout its tepid history has been responsible for some
absolute musical abominations. From some soon to be wiped out by festering European
plagues Moa eating Maori thumping sticks against the ground and twirling a
marshmallow on string to the invading armies of peckerwood Irish/Scottish
highlands, lowlands folk song singing soused sailors back to the shitty range
of poor imitation rock/hip hop/reggae/punk/metal acts we have now. New Zealand
music has and continues to blow cocks left, right and centre, all just seemingly
for the love of it.
Problem with New Zealand music is the flat out unapologetic plagiarism of
it all. Find me an original, truly original New Zealand recording artist. They
don't and never have existed. Ray Columbus was a key part of the mop top British
invasion, singing about girls and trouble making mods only seemingly he did his
infiltration from within. Auckland has always been my favorite English city.
Everyone raves on about the iconoclasm of Split Enz, obviously no one remembers
the 70’s and why they were snuffed out by punk. The Enz with their face paint,
camp clothes, and worm infestation just caught the last rickety, luggage on the
side, peasants on the top bus departing Glamville. All aboard? All bored. Had
the Velvet Underground only had access to Hillbilly Heroin with a Robitussin base
would they still have been signed to Flying Nun? Sure, the rest were. Suppose
the Sex Pistols didn’t burn out and instead just faded away because they
weren’t quite sure what the true spirit of anarchic punk was, would they then be
called Sticky Filth? Katchafire have used Bob Marleys rotting corpse as a bong.
Like Metallica before them Shihad have no musical direction of their own so
keep aping whatever is in style at this point in time, hopefully silence soon
becomes a big fad. Dave Dobyn is a cock slave goblin. Upper Hutt Posse would've
been put on the block by the NWA then sold for a block of weed. Dragon, Hello
Sailor, the Exponents are the kind of ‘feel good’ by the numbers pub rock bands
you would expect to see but wouldn't want to see at any bottom feeder infested
bodega around the world no matter how drunk you might be. The Feelers take the
words 'Overrated no hit blunders' and make them all their own. ‘Cum my little
penis’ and all over the faces of the tax payer who have funded their careers.
Hailey Westenra only has a career because Charolette Church turned into a Welsh
rugby player fucking baby popper. I just
turned on a blender while the kettle was boiling, pressed record on my
Dictaphone and mumbled a little bit over top. Can I release this as a Dead C
album? And will it be critically lauded in the next edition of Rip It Up?
But what New Zealand music lacks in originality it makes up for with
arrogant pretension.
Please find me some New Zealand musicians and industry types that are
grounded in reality, wizened to the fact that our music scene isn’t and will
never be that of an America, England even Australia. We neither have the
population, talent, appreciation of art, spirit of iconoclasm nor the financial
backing that these larger, thriving and superficially more cultured countries
have. Yes it is ok to have dreams, to think big but the majority seem to be
living in another stratosphere. Government funding, Myspace and a local music
quota for TV and radio have rotted their minds. They all think that because
they have been given a $10000 grant to make a video, been played on BFM and
have had a minor support slot at a 2 day festival in the backwoods that their
music must be pretty awesome, they’re about to get signed by a major label and
they're just one small step off becoming the next big thing on the
international stage so fuck all those that have supported them in the meantime.
No more low key unpaid gigs, no more indie labels, no more demo releases on
Reverb Nation. Damage control set for douchebag. Well news flash you aren’t the
next big thing you conceited fucks, your music is dross and a rip off of what
was cool 2 years ago in lands far and away. Now you have fucked over the people
that cared for you on the small stage so prepare yourselves for a life of
retail servitude you talentless uneducated hacks cause I am sick of paying your
way… And while you are at can you find me a bashful, self effacing, modest
musician as well. “So and so has invited you to like his page on Facebook”. “So
and so has posted a song for you to listen to on Soundcloud” If I liked your
music I would’ve have validated it already. By virtue of the fact that I didn’t
means that you should then leave me the fuck alone as I don’t care for the pap that
you are peddling. And I understand that you’re an artist and you need to show off
your work but let me discover it on my own terms. By inviting, forcing us to critique
it you leave us mute to the honest opinions we might have had… “Should’ve come
to the gig on Friday man, we rocked the joint in our super tight jeans that our
Mums helped us put on. The ten people in the audience went spastic for our song
about falling in love with a girl that could be a guy and might very well be a
guy because there is a definite and slight pants bulge… Almost got laid by this
40 year old, no teeth booze hag that was waving her lighter and dancing out her
crabs during our set. Had to settle for a handy from the drummer instead
though…” I’ve seen you play, it reminded me of every other shitty New Zealand band
I have ever seen that has the look, the moves but no talent or tunes. Stick to
the day job. But you probably don’t have one you dole bludging, perpetual
student, tax money leeching human parasite... Your insouciant dress sense
doesn’t fool anyone we all know you have spent several hours picking out your
attire for the day, several more spent on your carefully tussled hair and then
put on a pensive pout to disguise how fucken jazzed you are by life. It doesn’t
matter how good your music is, if you present yourself and your music with an
aesthetic air of conceit then you are not a true New Zealander. We are not
Americans. We are not Australians. We are not South Africans. We are modest. We
are self-conscious. We are bashful. And for those that have forgotten this safe
stereo type then let me remind you of the ghost of anti-pretention, he who
rapes all the naughty musicians that develop over inflated egos and dress like
fags. He who is the ghost of New Zealand past….My man, last of the real men,
Barry Crump is gonna fuck you all. Hard. Late at night. When running alone…
New Zealand music is full of examples, bands that shouldn’t have made it
but through sheer conceitedness and government funded propaganda have deluded a
few of the easily brainwashed masses into thinking that they are better than
what they are. Good luck on the world stage losers where actual talent can be
found. Midnight Youth you are the biggest bunch of queers I have ever seen and
not in the good 'I fuck dudes and decorate houses manner'. Your music stands
for nothing and worse it means nothing. Art should have some resonance. Your
music is basically an advert for fedoras. You will never make it overseas
because there are thousands of other bands that do your music if it could be called
that only of far greater talent, they're also younger and better looking. You
only have a profile here because Kiwis are easily duped rubes. Accuse me of
Tall Poppy syndrome why don’t you? You’re a wilted, half grown, poor excuse for
a poppy and I'm gonna extract the seeds and smoke you fools in my den with my
old Asian Fu Manchu moustache friends. God how I hope the Checks are enjoying
the crippling debt placed upon them from their first album advance. Good luck
making it back from the brink of collapse you next in line for the red faced
alcoholic Exponents crown as New Zealand’s small pub cover band favorites.
Worldwide domination? Not gonna happen when you keep aping the worst that music
has to offer while mincing about the stage like the Rolling Stones. Rolling
Stones suck but you do more. The Feelers, how is that you have had such a long
tax payer funded career when at best you have had only one song that could pass
for being moderately ok. How many CC's of jism have you swallowed and was it
worth it? Your songs are bland, offer no real hooks and lack any sort of truly well-defined
sound. You're a Battle of the Bands runner up at best. Pretension, carry
yourself like a star and you will delude the rubes - this it seems is the way
to milking the tax payer dollar in this country.
Yeah ok I’ll admit that it isn't all shit, New Zealand music has some
bright points. I like Die!Die!Die! They remind me of a time before I heard
Blindspot and Died!Died!Died! I appreciate Stink Magnetic Records and their
acts, they are the right kind of shit. No pretension therefore worth a mention.
Flying Nun had its moments before Rodger Shepard sold out for the scrilla and
then came back to further ruin their legacy. Muzai for life. Fuck you Sherpa. Dennis
Marsh is my Dad. I gilfed Dame Kiri. But overall the music is an unappealing
choad.
Proof? How many of these New Zealand bands once away from the safety net of
NZ on Air grants make it overseas. Scribe? Wow his career really went up and up
just like his waistline went out and out. Shihad made such a dent on the world
as Pacifier they came back to New Zealand changed their name back to Shihad and
continued the self-satisfying anonymous good life touring hick towns for small
pay offs. The Feelers will never, could never make it overseas. That is why
they remain here rotting in the sun. Why oh why didn’t the Christchurch
earthquake take them instead of all those English language students, there is
no god. Can't explain OMC, no one can. Dobyn, Dragon, Exponents, Hello Sailor
made it as far as Australia before being revealed as the farces they are. Op
Shop know that if they aim any higher then they'll be running for Jason
Kerrisons bomb shelter because they will have brought the rapture upon us.
Australia can claim Crowded House , we don’t want them. Savage did his best to
ruin 'Knocked Up'. Tiki Tane can suck my ass. And fuck Glee queen sidekick Kimbra
not that I would, silly hipster whore…
It's weird to think that if it is all added up. Respect, international
exposure, sales. Then the Dead C are one of our most well known and loved bands
overseas. Why? Because they are uncompromising. They are who they are. They
play what they wanna play. They stand alone, retarded as their noise-ic might
be. How many other New Zealands are at their level on the world stage when
considering that they have had no money put into their careers by the
government? It is their career that should be a paradigm for aspiring New
Zealand musicians. Do it your way. Sound different. Fund yourselves. Be
realistic with goals. Not that any will because their egos have been over
inflated…
Fuck you NZ Music Commission….
New Zealand Music Commission
What a fucken have this is… Before these idiots started ramming their New
Zealand music ensconced cocks uninvited down our throats we had exposure to a
wide range of music from around the world that for the most part due to our
isolation had never been heard. Some shit, some good but almost all better than
what came from our small fish in a small pond country. Only 5% of all airplay
was directed towards New Zealand Music and with good reason. It blows. But with
the do gooder faggery of the NZ Music Commission that figure is now up to 12%.
And don’t think for a second that this is a good thing, a change motivated by
undeniable evolutionary excellence in our music. Cause it’s not. If anything
things are getting worse Black River Drive, I Am Giant, Luger Boa, Dane Rumble,
Naked and Famous, Six60. Pap of the highest order. Pap that in the pre NZ Music
Commission era would never have left the damp, moldy basement it was practiced
in but has now invaded the national mainstream. A travesty…
The New Zealand Music Commission has much to blame for. From the tiresome,
irksome and stupidly ubiquitous NZ Music Month, to the now defunct Labour
government initiated artists benefit, ‘All the songs you hate and more’ New
Zealand music Radio Stations, back slapping/dick jerking music awards and the
ever increasing use of Kiwi music during TV shows, sporting events and advertising.
These fucks have made it acceptable to like our own countries music. Well it’s
not. It offers nothing original, nothing exciting. It adds nothing to our
economy in fact it does the opposite. Because they all think they are the next
Bon Jovi they refuse to work, living off their subsidized tours, benefits and
the leftovers from their video recording grants all the while waiting for their
invites to the next SXBSW Festival in Texas to come in the mail. When I pay tax
I want it to go to some poor elderly lady living alone with only her tabby cat
for company, quietly awaiting her next Meals on Wheels delivery while knitting
a cardigan for an unappreciative grandchild who will quickly donate said
cardigan to the local op shop at which point some indie fag will buy it for a dollar
and wear it everywhere like the cliched hipster fucks they are. What I don’t
want is my money going to Jeremy Redmore or John Toogood so they can eke out a
living continuing to release the dross that fogs us all. But with the
propaganda machine that is the government/tax payer funded NZ Music Commission
making it seem ok for these mooch cunts to continue to bludge a few more
dollars here and few more dollars there, well this just cranks my fucken gears.
And I have worn out my clutch. What really gets me is these pricks claiming
album/video grants are for the most part all signed to major labels anyway.
Shouldn’t these corporate giants be the ones investing money into the careers
of their signees? If it’s about helping the New Zealand bands that haven’t got
exposure and deserve it then shouldn’t that 10k allocated for Dave Dobbyn be
spread evenly amongst the fledging bands that may have a chance and are not
just some old yoda looking fuck knuckle with a series of gayest shits strewn
behind him…
And what’s fucken worse is you are deluding the next generation of youths
into thinking that there might just be a future in music. There isn’t. Those
that do, do so for love. Fuck covers bands, get a bricklaying job. How many
crappy music schools in New Zealand are there these days? What the fuck do they
teach except how to snuff out the natural flair you may have once had and
replace it with the conventions of bland songwriting. ‘Play it strange’ but
play it straight if you want to win. The Rockquest rewards those that have aped
last year’s overseas fad musically and stylistically thus proving that New Zealand
music is only good if it is borrowed from elsewhere. Does everyone have an
indie label these days? Are we all signed without our knowledge and or consent?
Does my mum have a double album coming out on her own indie label unbeknownst
to her of ‘Sounds from the Kitchen’ which consists of her washing dishes and
boiling a kettle for a cup of tea? Too much…too much. Our music is everywhere
and it shouldn’t because it blows. We need to retrain these kids that music is
for the depressed, the effeminate and the socially maligned. Which they would
all become if just left to suffer in poseur poverty without their deep pocketed
government sugar daddy perpetually looking out for them. The rest should be out
throwing a rugby ball around cause we wouldn’t want the All Blacks to lose
their mythical powers now would we? Well, I do…
The Fans
New Zealand music fans are the biggest bunch of mindless, walking dead zombiefied
idiots. Dirigible to the core. Tell them what to like and they shall like it.
An average New Zealand music fan can’t tell the difference between a fart and
art. If they have heard it on the radio, seen it on Juice and it has a cheap
and stupid hook with an accompanying video of a band playing in a dark forest
as a lost girl runs about crying then that is all the recommendation they need.
Newsflash dickheads, just because it’s on Juice or the Rock doesn’t mean it’s any
good. In fact nothing associated with the Rock or Juice is worth a dash of my salty
semen. It’s who you know and how much money you spend in this country, aye
Michael Fay? Want funding well your lips better be firmly glued to Dobbyns
cock. Want video airplay then you’d better have a buddy at TVNZ. Want to get
played on mainstream radio, then payola bitches…What we see, what we hear isn’t
necessarily the best on offer musically. These idiots don’t know that though,
they just want to hear something with a groove and a simple vocal line that
they can shout at the clubs and scream in their cars. Of course they get this
on a platter because those in charge capitalize on their simplicities.
Capitalism/exploitation? Good music even if given mainstream exposure would
never be fully appreciated by these Muppets. The have neither the intelligence and or
emotional capacity for it to register. This is why Tikki Tane has a career.
But don’t think for a minute that you uber cool indie kids are getting off
lightly either. While the average idiot on the street has the mild excuse of
not knowing what is actually good due to limited musical exposure and therefore
an under developed palate with untrained senses you fucks are just a bunch of
dilettantes trend hopping around town from uber, cool hipster band to uber cool
hipster band. If you are into music and appreciate it enough to go to live
shows, buy merchandise and have a music collection then I will presume that you
are mildly depressed and therefore attuned to what is good. But it just seems
that this isn’t the case… Sonic Youth were alright. 30 years ago. I guess. But
If I hear another Thurston Moore anti riff from some low cut shirt wearing mop
top scamp that wasn’t even born when The Eternal came out in 2009 then I’m
gonna gut some cunts. Dudes sounding like chicks, chicks sounding like dudes.
Lyrics about how hard life is being a 20 something white guy working a 9-5 job
at an insurance firm cause Mummy’s just told you that you have to pay board.
Cunts in skinny jeans. Skinny cunts in jean shorts. Charles Lindbergh in Jean
Battens skinny short cunt. GUT! GUT! GUT! I despise this indie music and the
people that are into it. I hate your mismatch style. I hate your dyed hair. I
hate your stupid piercings. Your ironic facial hair. That one badly placed
tattoo of your favorite band which you will soon regret getting. Your vacuous
conversations. Your vinyl collections, music doesn’t sound better on vinyl. It
probably did to the people that grew up in that era because mono is what their
senses are adjusted to but you are just transparently trendy. I hate Joy Division.
Animal hats are stylistically not a good idea. Supporting causes you know
nothing about sickens me. Championing bands no one has heard of then disowning
them when they have 56 Facebook likes reeks of elitism. I hate all you indie
kids….
Fuck music fans. Downtrodden, no sex, no friend faggots…
The Venues
So you’ve got a tour coming up. You contact a bar. Send an email. Never here
back. You ring them. Get told that the booking agent isn’t there at the moment.
Leave your number as they will get back to you. Never receive that call. Try
again. Fail. Send your friend who lives in said city to go see them. Get told
that the booking agent isn’t there again. Talk to the bar owner. Date is
available. Make the booking. Told to send an email to confirm. Do so. 17 days
later confirmation received. Wrong date. Venue hire = $300 or free if bar sales
of $1000. Scratch head. Write reply. Eat a dick you fucken time wasting, avaricious
cunts.
Who’s sick of dealing with bars, their staff, their soundmen? A bigger
bunch of disorganized, ambivalent losers one could not hope to find. Tauranga
doesn’t really have any venues so to speak but the ones we do have suffer from
the same inexcusable bullshit that the rest of the country has. So sick of the
hipster ‘Hey look at us we are so weird cause we have antique light fittings’
gimmick bars. So sick of the dirty rape dens where you can’t figure out which
part of the bar is the bathroom cause it all looks like it’s covered in shit
and piss. So sick of the upmarket trendoid cock fests where everyone is sitting
around a table drinking their booze from a tea pot as a candle burns ever so
silently. So sick of the people that go to these bars. So sick of the sweaty
glad handing bar staff. So sick of the covers bands. So sick of the
unoriginality of the originals bands. So sick of the idiots that get drunk to
excess and cause trouble. So sick of the morons that want to hear some ‘Kings
of Leon… whooo’ So sick of the sanctimonious music geeks standing at the back
sniggering at every bum note. So sick of the moshing, the retro fitted dance
moves, the polite clap and unenthusiastic ‘Yeahs!!!’ punctuating the end of
every song. So sick of the uniformity of everyone, from the clothes they wear to
what they say, to how they act. So sick of the apathetic youth, bitching and
complaining that there‘s never any good gigs happening anymore so you put one
on and then no one shows despite your extensive publicity because they were all
drinking the night before in a garage in Hamilton listening to Metallica and
playing darts. So sick of having to charge people money to see your shitty band
just so you can pay the soundman who really isn’t worth the $250 you have to
pay him. So sick of being sick of everything…
I’m never going out again…
The Media
Are there any documented cases of NZ Musician magazine giving an artist a
bad review? By being so overwhelmingly positive all the time you are
perpetuating the myth that our music is good. Grow some balls and say it how it
is. Not all music is good. Not all musicians have to be encouraged. Like
Midnight Youth. Often time someone just needs to prod these people gently and
let them know that maybe just maybe music isn’t the right vocation for them. Again
like Midnight Youth. Oh and your articles and industry advice are rubbish.
Wouldn’t use your glossy super sheen pages to wipe my arse with…
Volume, Groove Guide, Rip it Up…didn’t you read my mailbox? It says no
circulars. I understand that advertising is what keeps you afloat and lets you
buy 50 cups of barista brewed coffee a day but if it’s at the expense of good
articles then maybe you should forget the mag part of the zine equation and or
just cave in and get usurped by the online publications. Not they are much
better. Dick Cheese on Toast. Under the
Radar is so far under my radar sonar couldn’t pick it up.
Social media. This is the worst thing in the world. Now thanks to Cock
Zucker and his book of faces we are being exposed to a variety of bands that we
otherwise never would have heard of. Facebook is not even a good book. It may
have a snazzy front cover and the first few lines of the opening paragraph may
have some resonance but dig deeper and you will expose it for the time wasting,
real fan eliminating, fake confidence catalyzing sham it is. Not that all the
blame can be heaped here though. Myspace started this mess and they owe me big
time for the Arctic Monkeys. You Tube needs to have its fuses melted for Beiber
and Twitter just needs to shut up. Generation Why. Why do you have to post
everything about your shitty lives? I just don’t get it. Do you have no real
friends? Is this why you covet the attention of your online ones so? Do you
know any of your online friends even? Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you…
Music television. What’s the point? Different channels. Same songs. Everyday!
Censured. Balls….
Radio stations. “Rise and shine campers it’s cold outside…”
Simon Sweetman. The man with the reputation for saying it how it is... Only
in this politically correct country can a half arsed skin skimmer of a review
on Six60 get passed off as a biting indictment. But then again maybe that is
what the people want? Saying that the Six60 are the leading progenitors of arse
roots music and that I’m going to stab them with a rusty knife in their japs
eyes so they cum rivers of corroded blood is perhaps a tad too much for the
average NZ pussy. ‘BBQ Reggae’. Oh how cutting!!! Fuck you Sweetman, name
dropper of name droppers, safe song lister of song lists, restrained reviewer
of recycled rubbish. How is it that you get paid to act as a music journalist
yet the only job I can get in this industry is one that involves Jordon Lucks
mouth?
Dylan Tate was a drug fucked stoner retard. I eat hippies for breakfast
with my GM milk, fat fried battery eggs and swine flu bacon…
TV3, stop pretending that you are the cool alternative to TV1 with your
late night news broadcast that features eclectic music during your weather.
News is a somber affair. Weather even more so, just talk to the old ladies of
the Tauranga Bowls club. Stop killing it with your transparent attempts at
gaining indie chic. I want my news morose.
And cunts writing apoplectic zines ragging on the state of New Zealand
music, a subject they obviously know very little about but still want to rant
unabated. Not so as to instigate change but more so to satiate their own raging
egos because they are empty and cold inside and know that deep down they’ll
never be as cool as Dane Rumble. You are the worst…
The Future
Tis a bleak one for fans of good music. We should prepare ourselves for an
ever increasing percentage of derivative local music blasting from our radios,
through our TV screens and broadcasted onto the pages of our newspapers. With
the despotic hands of the NZ Music Commission pushing their agenda further and
further into our mouths can we even expect to be allowed to listen to music
from outside the national borders. Will we be living in a police state by 2084.
Told what to listen to, who to like, why we should like them? We already are.
But we don’t have to stand for this. We can rebel. We can take action. We can
say no more!!!
It’s ok not to ‘like’ your friends’ band on Facebook even when invited.
It’s ok to say ‘no’ when Shihad comes to town and you have nothing to on a
Saturday night. It’s ok to change the Channel when an Op Shop video comes on
Juice. It’s ok to sit in silence instead of listening to the radio. It’s ok to
go to the Feelers webpage and leave rambling comments about how overrated they
are. It’s ok to refuse to learn and sing the 50 versions of the national anthem
we now have and it’s not unpatriotic it’s just we are sick of the overkill.
It’s ok to listen to those imported contraband CDs from the back of your closet
and that’s CDs not vinyl you hipster homos. It’s ok to think that an Apple is
just a slightly acidic fruit and not something that has killed the record
industry and ruined more parties than the reappearance of the returning from an
overseas holiday early absentee parents. It’s ok to laugh at an 8 year old girl
busking badly downtown. It’s even more ok to shake down said girl for her
coinage so as to buy a falafel kebab. It’s highly acceptable to heckle, noogie
and wedgie Jeremy Redmore if you see him in public. It’s promoted that you buy
an instrument but refuse how to learn the fundamentals from a hack musical
instructor so that you learn how to play it in a manner that becomes inherent to
you. It’s ok to get a job that will actually help to contribute to society then
only playing music in your own time. Its ok to play original songs and not
covers . It’s ok to attempt to be original. It’s ok to fail at your attempts to
be original, at least you tried. It’s ok to pretend that you are not from New
Zealand. It’s ok to skip from April to June on the musical calendar. It’s ok to
play what you want to play even if it is untrendy. It’s ok to really like
something and without irony, a concept that you don’t really get but still constantly
attempt. It’s ok to be in a band yet have no fashion sense. It’s ok to play
music that girls will not like. It’s ok to make a video clip on your cellphone
rather than sucking up tax payer funds for a video that only your Facebook friends
will watch. It’s ok to start a band that has more than 2 members, even if your
chic rating will dip. It’s ok to go to a festival spend all day in the shade
awaiting the international acts you truly want to see. It’s ok to go to a
party, replace the hosts Natures Best CD with your own Natures Worst CD. It’s
ok to openly admit that you hated Georgie Pie and that you will never sign a
petition to bring it back. It’s ok to live in suburbia and have a room with a
door that closes and house that doesn’t get trashed every Friday night. It’s ok
to buy international music magazines instead of Rip it Up. It’s ok to espouse
freely on how Marmite is overrated. It’s ok to write and record songs but not
put them online for the world to hear. It’s ok to release, if one must said
songs on a format that didn’t die 30 years ago just because it’s the cool thing
to do. It’s ok to care about other things of greater importance than music.
It’s ok to start a band that doesn’t have a logo and a range of merchandise
before they’ve had their first gig. It’s ok not to like Chris Knox. It’s ok to
make jokes about his current ill health that allude to his entire recording
career essentially as being one big stroke – that of his ego and the many piles
of penis he has navigated on his way to being somewhere near the top of the
bottom of the shit heap. It’s ok to wear
a pair of shoes that aren’t Chuck Taylors. It’s ok to buy a pair of jeans that
actually fit you. It’s ok to dress for comfort and warmth instead of style.
It’s ok to live in a big city but never see live music. It’s ok to live till an
old age. It’s ok to read a book then not drop it into every conversation you
have over the following week. It’s ok not to have paid $80 for a Flying Nun
reissue t-shirt through Barkers. It’s ok to write a song that has a
conventional structure and in a tuning that isn’t designed to make Thurston
proud. It’s ok to live in a small town, your hometown, hang with the same group
of friends you grew up with, marry your badly ageing childhood sweetheart,
start a family, work the farm and not be consumed by trivial bullshit like
art/music/culture – not everyone is cut out for being a poseur. It’s ok to
watch the ghost of Barry Crump rape Shelton Woolright and then not report it as
a crime.
It’s ok to hate New Zealand Music…
Next Issue: Tauranga Music Sux, New Zealand Music blows and International
music licks anus…
