Last Train Home

“But there's still tomorrow
Forget the sorrow
And I can be on the last train home
Watch it pass the day
As it fades away
No more time to care
No more time, today

But we sing
If we're going nowhere
If it's not enough
And we sing
Sing without a reason
To ever fall in love”

Last Train Home – Lostprophets 

I heard the news at the beginning of the year about Ian Watkins and his shameful actions, and this week he pleaded guilty to his charges of various sex crimes. You can read up what he did because writing out what he did makes me feel ill. I will use a word I reserve only for the very worst people in society – the former lead singer of Lostprophets is a fucking sick cunt who deserves to rot in jail for his disgusting acts. 

There once was a time where I loved Lostprophets. They were among my favourite bands when I went through my weird emo phase, and indeed they came out with me on the other side. They were a good band and they made good music across their five studio albums. Ian Watkins has a great voice and songs like Last Train Home and Rooftops became the kind of anthems you would head bang to, and if you’re like me, this head banging was done in secret in your bedroom. Nowadays they aren't a favourite band, but a band whose music I continue to enjoy.

It makes me sad seeing what has become of this band. I don’t understand how one person could become so caught up in a twisted criminal world and destroy a solid music career, for both themselves and for the other band members. And what are we, the fans and supporters of the band, supposed to think? It is a strange thing to watch people in the spotlight fall from grace, because you never knew them and yet feel as though they are a part of you. It’s confusing: I hate Ian Watkins for his criminal actions, but I still love him for his music and his musical talent. It now seems so inappropriate to say I like Lostprophets music, but I do still like it and I still like the way Watkins sings and I still want to head bang to Last Train Home in my bedroom. 

This week a very bad man has pleaded guilty and will be put away in jail. He will be taken out of our civilisation and hopefully no one else will become his victim. But also this week a good musician was taken away from us, and that is a loss for our music industry. This is a complicated case and, much like I was as a teenager listening to Rooftops, I am so confused about how to feel. Most of all I am sad. I am sad for the fans who lost a band, and for the people who lost something at the evil hands of Watkins. I hope we see more music from the other members of Lostprophets, but for now I will listen to Liberation Transmission with a touch of sorrow and think about the bitter humour there is in the songs A Town Called Hypocrisy and Can’t Catch Tomorrow (Good Shoes Won’t Save You This Time). 

Royals

“We don't care, we aren't caught up in your love affair

And we'll never be royals (royals)
It don't run in our blood
That kind of lux just ain't for us, we crave a different kind of buzz
Let me be your ruler (ruler)
You can call me queen bee
And baby I'll rule, I'll rule, I'll rule, I'll rule
Let me live that fantasy”

Royals – Lorde 

I headed along to Vodafone New Zealand Music Awards last night, feeling very excited to see the best of our music industry’s talents. It was a great night and here’s my wrap on the highlights. 

The night was dominated was our current singing sensation Lorde. She won international artist, breakthrough artist of the year and the People’s Choice award, Royals won single of the year and video of the year. But it was obvious Lorde would win big on the night given her success over the past year, and it was her own performance over the course of the evening which stood out for me. Lorde is a very interesting character and the little of her which plays out in the media is fascinating. I commend Lorde firstly for her opening performance of Royals, which was easily the best performance of the night. And I highly commend her for her speeches, particularly when she recognised her fellow artists and when she invited Joel Little onto stage during her single of the year acceptance speech. And I especially commend her for her poise when nearly every host included her in one of their jokes. She is a bright young lady with incredible composure and talent. 

I must mention to Aaradhna who was stunning last night. She looked amazing, sung Wake Up beautifully and gracefully accepted her three awards. I thought she deserved all her awards, especially given the stiff competition for Album of the Year category. Treble & Reverb is a fantastic album and worthy of the award. Two other albums worth mentioning were the winners of Best Rock and Best Pop album. One of my favourite bands Villainy received the former for the excellent Mode. Set. Clear. album, and Jamie McDell won Best Pop for Six Strings and a Sail Boat. I think it is important to note these albums were the debut album from both acts and to come away with a Tui Award is a great achievement. 

Overall the night was a lot of fun. All the performance were good: Lorde, Iva Lamkum (who I had never heard of before but enjoyed a lot), Jamie McDell, Ruby Frost, Titanium, Aaradhna and Stan Walker. There were some good laughs throughout the night, namely when Guy Williams held up a sign saying “Bring Back Ben Lummis” and when the guys from Villainy photo bombed Stan Walker and Bret McKenzie. 

I have always been a fan of New Zealand music, since I was a pre-teen and 48May was, for a short while, my favourite band. Last night I was incredibly proud of our musical talent and the way they presented themselves and the support New Zealanders give our musicians. It was touching to see the standing ovation given to Lorde when she won the International Award, and to Shona Laing when she was awarded the Legacy Award. And I was most proud when the highest selling single of the year was Feel Inside (And Stuff Like That) given the song was put out to raise money for Cure Kids. We have a very talented, multi genre music industry in this country, from Lorde to Shapeshifter to Shona Laing, and we should be proud of the music made on our own soil. 

Somewhere Only We Know

“Oh simple thing, where have you gone?
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

And if you have a minute, why don't we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So why don't we go somewhere only we know?
Somewhere only we know”

Somewhere Only We Know – Keane

When I started writing this blog and thinking about ideas at the beginning of last year I had six favourite songs, and over the course of blogging I wanted to write about all of them in a meaningful way. So far I have written about five of them but have not yet done one on Somewhere Only We Know. It seemed pointless to go on about secret places one could take someone else for peace and quiet. I do love the idea of having a secret place to take a special someone after realising you are living your life a little too fast, but it would never sustain a whole blog post. 

I heard a few weeks ago Keane were taking an “extended hiatus” which, let’s be honest, means they are breaking up with a somewhat loose vision of getting back together in the very distant future. Essentially, this marks the end of Keane. It saddens me to hear this as they are one of my favourite bands. I am most gutted I will not, as far as I can tell, ever get to see Keane live and hear them play their wonderful songs. In short, Keane were one of my favourite bands, and are now a band no longer. 

This is the first time a band I really like, a band I appreciate beyond just listening to their music, has broken up and it’s a bit of a weird feeling. I could be a lot more angry than I am – but really all I would be doing is getting mad at a group of guys I actually don’t know. I feel like I am a much more rational person and while their break up is saddening we still had nearly ten years of their music. I made friends through Keane’s music; in high school a group of us would sit in study period and thought discussing Keane’s albums was much better than discussing our history assignment. I would listen to Keane’s music when I felt sad or alone and it cheered me up and soothed me. Sometimes I listened when I was happy and the music made me even happier. 

Keane may not have been a band which defined aspects of the music industry, but they were different and interesting, particularly with their lack of guitar on their first few albums. They made their fans very happy, especially this once teenager and now young adult. And despite how much this break up does sadden me, I always have those four albums of music to listen to because a band’s break up only signals the end of new music, not the end of their music altogether. 

End of Time

“We can dance until the end of time
We can party til we die
When the world is falling down on us
Let’s pretend that we can fly”

End of Time – The Make Believe

When it comes to writing these blogs I try to think of a common theme or idea of the song or make a point of what the artist does. I have wanted to write another blog about The Make Believe for a while now, as I haven’t since I did a wrap up of the year a Static FM. It was difficult to think of a theme for any of their songs, as inspiration refused to strike. I could have talked about acoustic covers but there’s not much to say about them, apart that they are really good. Or I could have mused about having two lead vocalists, but that technique has been used since 1960’s and really isn’t anything new. I was stuck until very recently when I realised exactly why I wanted to talk about the band. 

I want The Make Believe to succeed.

I feel like I have many different relationships with artists and with their music. Often I just want to use an artist’s music for my own entertainment, other times emotional comfort or companionship. It’s like they have put out this product where I care less for the manufacturer and more what the product can do for me. And don’t get me wrong – I have love and respect for literally hundreds of music artists. But it is their music, rather than them, which I associate most with. I pull out their tracks when I want to listen, and when I’m done they are thrown back into the endless pit of songs.  

There are a few artists who I care about beyond simply wanting to be use their songs, and this is how I feel about The Make Believe. I love and respect their music, and have many times used it how I’ve needed to. And while they are talented and determined I doubt they are striving any more than every other band who ever released music. I really cannot pinpoint exactly what makes them stand out amongst other talented artists, and in particular New Zealand artists to which I am partial, but to me they are special. It probably seems dysfunctional, as I do not have the same support for similar bands, but in the music world I want to see The Make Believe at the top. I doubt I am alone with my thoughts – there are probably artists who you would love to succeed, or have enjoyed watching on the road to success.

And to me, this a key part of a music journey: the irrational need to throw support behind particular artists who you have never met because in some weird way they connect with you, and that connection is one of the best feelings you have. 

All Revved Up With No Place To Go

“I was a varsity tackle and a hell of a block
When I played my guitar
I made the canyons rock, but
Every Saturday Night
I felt the fever grow
Do ya know what it's like
All revved up with no place to go”

All Revved Up With No Place To Go – Meatloaf

This week is the two year anniversary since I saw Meatloaf play at Vector Arena. My friend Zena, with whom I get up to the most mischief alongside, ranks this man as one of her favourite music artists and bought two (second row) tickets to his show. I took the spare one and we headed out to see the legend himself. It was a fantastic night, despite Meatloaf not being as young and energetic as I assume he once was on stage, and it was the night which reminded me how much I love seeing artists perform live.

In the gap between the opening act playing and Meatloaf coming out Zena and I got talking to the couple next to us, and they said “aren’t you two a bit young for Meatloaf?” I do believe they meant it in the most polite way; merely as a comment that in Meatloaf’s prime he appealed to people twenty years older than we were at the time, and we were more likely to be caught up in whatever the Top 40 music stations were playing, rather than an older man on one of his last world tours.

But their comment made me wonder why we think music should have an age limit on it. As we grow up certain music influences us and it is usually what is current at the time, until we become older and these songs turn into classic hits. My musical taste, however, spans many decades. I have music from The Beatles, The Clash, Foo Fighters and Imagine Dragons on my iPod; I will play Simon and Garfunkel then play One Republic. I have been asked a lot recently if I am too old to listen to One Direction and go to their concert, but I think not. I like their music and appreciate their place in the industry, and there is no way anyone is going to stop me from watching them perform live.

I think letting your age restrict you is a bit like being all revved up … with no place to go. Being 20 shouldn’t stop you from playing on swings and being 40 doesn’t suddenly mean you are too old for Disney films. As long as you are acting above any legal age limits I don’t see the problem with having a bit of fun and doing what you like to do. If I had listened to what people had said about being too young for Meatloaf, I would have not only not seen a musical legend, but also never discovered the opening act Luger Boa and consequently many other Kiwi rock bands which Luger Boa led us to. Because really, an age is just a number, and your likes and wants define you much more than a digit.  

Heartbreak Girl

“I dedicate this song to you,
The one who never sees the truth,
That I can take away your hurt, heartbreak girl.
Hold you tight straight through the day light,
I'm right here. When you gonna realise
That I'm your cure, heartbreak girl?”

Heartbreak Girl – 5 Seconds of Summer

Just over a week ago I went to see One Direction sing at Vector Arena and, like most other concerts, they had an opening act. I had heard of 5 Seconds of Summer before but did not know any of their music. Nevertheless, I encouraged my friend (and her little sister, making being at a One Direction a lot less creepy) to go early so we could see them open. They were a terrific live act and I was quite into them from my seat at the rear end of the arena.

A funny thing happened when they were playing though. I found myself singing along. This in itself is not unusual; the crowd is nearly always singing along with the band as they play. What was odd was how I was singing, or trying to sing, to a song which I didn’t actually know the lyrics too. I had never heard these songs before, bar Heartbreak Girl which was played in Vector Arena shortly before the band went on. I pride myself on knowing a lot of lyrics to a lot of songs, but surely I shouldn’t know them to songs I’d never listened to before.

It was a fearful moment in my mind, because I realised I was at complete control of the band. While it was at the hands of music and quite often I surrender to the songs, this particular time it was done without my will and it was a disconcerting experience. It wasn’t bad or scary as such, but there was definitely something odd about it which made me think. I have never questioned how much a band is in power at concerts but with ease they can make a crowd scream or stay quiet, force them to sing along and with simple instructions they can light up a whole arena. I have attended many concerts and I guarantee that at every single one the artist has been instructing the crowd what to do. And bands can control emotions: at concerts I have laughed, I have cried, and I have walked away feeling satisfied and euphoric.

I do wonder what the artists who are thinking when they are on stage with the crowd at their control. Did 5 Seconds of Summer know they had me singing along without knowing any words, and that they made me want to go and buy their music and find out more about them? Or were they just on stage, playing their music and having a good time with a crowd who obviously loved them? Probably the latter and we should be grateful these artists are not taking advantage of our weaknesses much more than encouraging us to buy albums and merchandise (which I have done post shows), and putting on a performance which makes someone like me fall in love with their music.