Today is the last day of winter in the southern hemisphere – so to celebrate, here’s the fifth album from The Winter – a New Zealand free improvisation trio of Mike Kingston, Simon Sweetman and Dave Edwardsโฆ with a sound that swerves from acoustic folk/blues with hints of Asian, Celtic, and Balkan influences, to electroacoustic soundscapes, abstract dissonance, and pots & pans percussion.
Mike Kingston: guitar, bass, clarinet, electronics Dave Edwards: guitar, bass, banjo, harmonica, ukulele, sanshin, electronics Simon Sweetman: drums and percussion, electronics
โWorth searching out coz this lo-fi singer/songwriter oddball has a unique take on the genre. Heโs pissed off, a tad fucked up (as usual), but not full of lugubrious self-pity (as unusual) and is happy to get raucous & obnoxious in just the right kinda way.โ โ Chris Knox
Scratched Surface is a genuine 1990s teenage no-budget lo-fi post-punk singer-songwriter artifact from the Taranaki, New Zealand underground. It includes both electric and acoustic tracks1.
The title alludes to its status as a first effort from fiffdimension2, with muchmore to come (‘scratching the surface’). It also suggests scratches on a disc, reflecting the lo-fi production values and a slightly ‘damaged’ pre-millennial teenager outlook.
I didn’t come from a conventional musical background. Instead of learning to play cover songs first, I skipped straight to writing my own3. The musicianship is rudimentary, and the lyrics are full of youthful angst – but also self-aware humour and ironic detachment.
“One day I’m gonna be a star, but I can’t be bothered to practice my guitar.
I’m not gonna sing you a cover song, ’cause I’d only make it sound all wrong.
I got the ‘can’t play for shit and my voice is shot to hell’ blues”
It was recorded on analogue reel-to-reel and cassette tapes, and self-released on CD-R. The online reissue includes download-only bonus tracks and previously unreleased material.
Credits
Dave Edwards – acoustic and electric guitar, harmonica, vocal, lyrics
Tim McVicar – bass (2, 12, 14), percussion (3), electric guitar (12, 13)
Brett, Ross, Tammy, Dawn et al – percussion and vocals (15-16)
A few years ago I wrote a chapter of Jazz Aotearoa, a book about New Zealand jazz music history, discussing the free improvisation and avant-garde jazz scene in Wellington at the turn of the millennium.
The title is a reference to Simon’s house on Norway Street, where the recordings took place. The ‘non idiomatic idiom’ suggests the paradox that improvising non-idiomatically (eg in an original personal style without reference to any genre – playing neither jazz, nor rock, blues, reggae, classical etc) is an idiom in itself.
It was recorded in Wellington in two volumes, in 1999 and2014
A companion to The Marion Flow, recorded in 1999 by the same lineup who provided that album’s longest (and least conventionally song-based track, pointing the way towards the increasingly radio-unfriendly Mantis Shaped and Worrying), “Lucifer Directing Traffic (at 3AM)”
Recording engineer Paul Winstanley, head of the excellent, now San Francisco-based avant-garde music label Eden Gully recalls it thus:
“after recording tracks for The Marion Flow at Wafer HQ in New Plymouth an ad hoc group of associated locals assembled to record for several sessions of improvised rock/noise deconstruction. really, the only rock references here come from the guitars, with the sputtering synth, air-sucking turntables, didgeridoo and sundry toys providing layers of surreal abstraction. throw in some spoken word and a special guest appearance by N.P. record mogul Brian Wafer on vacuum cleaner – and the dAdApApA nova had blazed and fizzled in the blink of an eye.
“it wasn’t until several years later after the master mixes had been lost, partially recovered and then rediscovered intact again that “Waiting for the Drummer’ was given a final mastering and released as a CDR on EdenGully. it’s been a long strange journey…..”
Fiff Dimension Dave – guitars, spoken word and furbie / Speed Cook – turntables and recording / Pal Diddly – synth and pithy observations / The Digitator – guitar, didgeridoo / BWafer – vacuum cleaner and coffees
โAs Dave Edwards he has explored fuzzypunk, free-jazz, spoken word, alternative-folk and demented popโฆ as Dave Black, the palette is broadenedโ โ Simon Sweetman
by Dave Black (acoustic & electric guitars, banjo, harmonica, laptop, bass, tenor saxophone, field recordings, piano, gayageum, vocal), with
“Experimental and avant-garde…. There is a clear passion, and a commitment to pushing the boundaries… This will challenge your perceptions of what constitutes music and open the mind to new possibilities of sounds that surround us – muzic.net.nz“
A compilation of songs, spoken word and instrumentals from the early phase of my gloriously unsuccessful career:
“Whilst shopping from fiffdimension, make sure to get hold of ‘Gleefully Unknown’ – a best-of compilation of Dave Edwardsโ music from 1997 to 2005. Rough outsider folk-blues mysteries, dissonant rock textures, electric and acoustic improvisations…
“Edwards strikes me as one of the most overlooked musicians from the fertile lands of New Zealand and if you need a fresh start this might very well be the place.” – Mats Gustafsson, The Broken Face
2011 – year of the Christchurch earthquakes, the Arab Spring, the Fukushima disaster, the shootings in Norway,the Queensland floods… and the Wellington (New Zealand) winter was colder than usual.Acoustic improvisations on guitar, ukulele, banjo, clarinet, piano, harmonica and percussion by The Winter (Simon, Dave and Mike).
It was 10 years ago nearly to the day that I had my first jam as part of a group of musicians that would go on to take the name The Winter. The name coming from the day we first got together, 2003’s winter solstice.
I listened back to Parataxes last night for the first time in ages. I wouldn’t say I ever made a habit of listening to it, but as with other recordings I’ve made it gets trotted out from time to time. Very occasional, but I couldn’t tell you I’d never listened to it, or that I’ll never listen to it again.
The Winter has became somewhat infamous in the life ofย Blog on the Tracksย because every time a group of fans get upset with me for picking on their band, a clip from YouTube is circulated suggesting that I cannot play music at all; the band I’m working with is not in tune and not playing anything resembling a song.
I’ve felt a little sad about this only in that it compromises the two other musicians in The Winter. They don’t deserve the abuse but are presumably trialled on a guilty-by-association tip. But I’m fair game. I front up and say things about music. It’d be a bit rich if I couldn’t handle people saying things about mine.
So I figured I should share that post here – and the link to the album to stream or download (both of which I have provided links to above). Have at it. But be warned…you might instead prefer to run to the hills.
Ten years on it was strange listening to this music. It’s improvised music, avant-garde perhaps, or experimental. These are tags that others have used. It might well be the biggest load of s**t you ever hear. That’s fine. I’ve never hidden from this – nor any of the other music I’ve had a hand in. But I understand that I’m an easy target with this platform.
The music on Parataxes and the early jams with The Winter were really important for me – an extension of my appreciation for free and improvised musics – free-jazz/noise/ambient – a lot of free/improv passed me by when I first tried turning an ear to it. But I found it. I found the bits and pieces I liked. And part of appreciating it was having a go at it. My go. With The Winter.
It was the most challenging – and freeing – that a playing experience has ever been. I was so scared the first time we performed live at the Photospace Gallery. I’m sitting there with toy percussion instruments, found pieces, old drum parts scattered around me. And I have no idea what I’m going to do with them – beyond bang at them. It was so stupid of me. But it was great. I loved it.
I made good friends from playing in The Winter – we still catch up, make music now and then, or maybe to you it’s not music at all. That’s fine. We have a cup of tea and a chat and we make our pieces of music – music that makes sense to us. We use different instruments every time. And nothing is ever the same. Nothing’s repeated, nothing’s played the same way twice. But it always sounds like us. Over the past 10 years and a handful of scattered performances we found our sound. And I’m really glad we did. It helped me to appreciate the world’s great improvisers; it has put me on to some amazing music and taught me a lot about myself.
