My 21st birthday was peeping through the key-hole; knocking on the door of next week.
Ever since the whimsical experience on the night of my 20th birthday (Read: '20th Birthday Tale - An Interesting Gift', if you're interested in that), I started to believe that the birthday season is a fertile time for something marvellous to transpire. Why should it not? It is a celebration of the day we arrived here on Earth. And turning 21 is apparently a big moment in the great Odyssey.
But I still wasn't sure why.
SHEEP had confirmed this coming week to be the one in which we gather in Dunedin once again, take a shaggy step forward as a noise-wielding unit, and record an EP. Playing with Sheep was, unparalleled, the single most frenetic activity I knew. I couldn't imagine a more wild birthday bash, even if I tried. Regardless of any other ideas that may have surfaced, the Dunedin hook had come to see me in my Queenstown adobe with an invitation I couldn't refuse.
Zooming out from the mountains and across Central Otago in my emerald journey-wagon, I was starting to feel as if Dunedin was tugging at my soul. It was the 5th time I had been pulled into a journey to Dunedin, and like all the previous times, it was a quest that revolved around music and my longtime friend and bandmate Tommy. It was thanks to him and SHEEP that I was having these adventures. But as I discovered last time, there was a hidden meaning behind my trips there. (Read: The Celestine Prophecy) As I popped over the rolling hills and unveiled the glistening ocean, nostalgia tapped me on the shoulder. It felt like Dunedin was pleased to have me back, as if it was trying to tell me something. Did I have a dance with destiny in this town? I wondered if the alignment with my 21st birthday had something to do with it.
Arriving back at the Chambers Street Flat in North Dunedin almost felt like returning home after an arduous hike in the hills. The porch was alight with sunshine and friends punching darts - they greeted me as though I was gone for a single day. Despite the unkempt rooms and the abominated kitchen, I felt comfortable there. It was definitely the people; they made all the difference.
And it was great to re-unite once again with Tommy and Toby; it was in an Auckland high school where we started playing music, and now we were in the deep south. It wasn't long before we cleared a space in the lounge, vacuumed the sea of crumbs, and had electricity spilling from our instruments and fizzing at our fingertips. For the next hour or so, we let the music surge forth. It crackled down the hall and whipped out onto the street. It rattled the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink. Sheep, in all its loudness, had manifested before us once again. Now we just needed to spend the next few days taming this sonic kraken, harnessing its ferocity, and take it to the studio.
As I sat there playing my Korg R3 keyboard on the couch with the pirates leg (a stack of old books), I felt the elements clashing together within my creative sphere, unfurling the muse. It wasn't every day I got to play in a band - it evoked an entirely new domain of music which I wasn't achieving as a solo musician, that of intensity, communication, and ENERGY. I looked up to see Toby behind the drums in the corner of the room, boldly gripping the drum sticks, thwacking the heck out the drums; bleeding sweat. Tommy the keystone of the room; guitar an extension of his body, shredding it with no remorse, and screaming into the microphone. This shit was hardcore. I liked it.
The neighbouring blocks of houses and flats were likely fuming; Sheep had turned the entire flat into a giant noise chamber; a defiant cell. We took to practicing this stuff like a full time job. But during our breaks, we escaped on back country drives to avoid the pitchfork-wielding neighbours, and scouted hidden overgrown glens. Yellow gripped the hills. Fields were awash. This land was beautiful, and had such a different flavour to Queenstown and its halls of mountains and lakes. I was feeling its allure, and seriously considering moving here. That's when Tommy pulled us aside, and told us something crazy.
"We're touring down the country at the start of next year."
I was thrilled to be awake at such an early hour, especially on this day. I had a chance to be swept by Dunedin as the others snoozed. I decided to go right into the heart of Dunedin city - The Octagon. I just sat there on the grass, contemplating things as the world spiralled around me. It seemed like Dunedin had really caught me on its hook, reeled me in from the mountains, and now I was sitting comfortably in its belly. Yep, this place swallowed me.
It was right about then that I realised what my 21st birthday was all about. Of course I was meant to come to Dunedin! I was unearthing a deep affinity for this place, and realising rather quickly that this place was the home I was steadily discovering. And to catch wind of the SHEEP tour down New Zealand at the dawn of 2018, ending in Dunedin - it appeared as if destiny was guiding me here all along, with my role in SHEEP and my friendship with Tommy the subtle invitation from the universe; the Dunedin hook.
For such a defining moment in my journey, and as a 21st gift to myself, I needed an item of great significance - some kind of treasure to empower the next chapter of my journey. Right there on the fringe of the Octagon was a dinky little shop that appeared to be winking at me. It was called 'The Little Rock Shop', and in the window sat the those smug crystals that beckoned me over; catching the morning sun. 'Perfect!' I thought. The Citrine that hung from my neck was crumbling to pieces, so I decided that a new gem to hang from my neck would be fitting.
I stepped inside; it was like walking into the magicians quarter. This was Dunedin's cubby of jewels. The inner city treasure trove. It was quaint, colourful and magical - I didn't know where to rest my eyes. I was naturally drawn to the pockets of acorn sized crystals at the counter, which I started fossicking through. I pulled out a gorgeous little piece from the collection of citrine; it was radiant and as smooth as a geisha's silk. As I stood there admiring it, the lady behind the counter arose from her position, and handed me a black crystal of a similar shape. "Take a look at this one. It's quite dark for a Pounamu, wouldn't you agree?" I held the inky-greenstone beside the glowing Citrine, and it almost looked as though these 2 crystals were siblings. Together, they spoke to me. So I purchased them. 'I'll bind them together, and make a new necklace', I thought to myself, exiting the shop with my 2 new companions jangling in a pouch.
As far as birthdays go, I couldn't have asked for much more than to play music! The rest of the day was spent in the lounge, practicing with SHEEP, and just jamming out my own music on a Casio Privia keyboard. And in the evening, as if I wasn't already convinced of Dunedin's unique hospitality, we were invited to a "pasta dinner" by a friend of Tommy's. We followed the address to a little blue dwelling on the hill, and were warmly welcomed in by the lovely girl who had generously prepared a scrumptious feast for us. I was astonished - today of all days?? It was such healthy, vibrant chow - freshly grown and prepared. I was grateful beyond measure - it was the most beautiful gift, and she had no idea it was my birthday. It was the first time I had ever seen her!
We didn't expect to be filling our belly's in this cozy blue bungalow. It was a God-send, as we needed all the energy we could gather for the hectic night ahead of us. Health brimming in our bones, we said our thanks and farewells, and slipped out into the hushed evening.
The initial weight of the task really fell on Toby and I. We were both leaving Dunedin in 2 days, so it was imperative that we get perfect takes of the bottom line, so that Tommy could spend the next few months adding his layers of guitar crunch and vocals.
Six songs, two all-nighters. Seemed reasonable.
We cracked into our first take with such explosive force, I was concerned that the roof would be blown off to the skies like the cap of a mentos-guzzling Pepsi. And for all that exertion, we failed that attempt. And the second. And the 5th. Successfully recording just one track is way more challenging than most people realise. Not 30 minutes in, and Toby was already drowning in a pool of sweat behind the drums. I almost felt bad - all I had to do was a little finger dance, while over there Toby was undergoing a full body workout.
Oscar was our anchor. He sat there behind his laptop, seemingly undisturbed by our abusively loud and receptive attempts at the tracks. "Alright, lets try another take," he would say, signalling to us with a subtle head nod. Toby counted us in, and crashed into the songs. I attacked my keys - since my role wasn't physically demanding, I focused on punching all the energy I had through my fingers and into every note that I played. It looked as though Tommy was the same, a whirling dervish with his guitar. Our night was chewed up like this, tasting like metallic frustration, until at last we succeeded at a track. And then it was straight back to the grind-stone again. If we didn't have two nights for this, it would have been chaos electrified. We spent the day in-between sleeping/recharging, and doing not much else. Going back up for round 2 was almost intimidating.
We tumbled out onto George street after a brutal but successful second night of recording. It was about 7am, and Dunedin was already starting its next day. Cars and cyclists trickled by on the road, and people walked swiftly to work along the sidewalk - they scanned us up and down as if we were aliens with instruments. It didn't bother us - we had completed the task, and now the EP was in the hands of Oscar and Tommy.
We spent the final day piled up in the wagon, swerving along the seaside hills, dusting up gravel roads, and getting the cars wheels submerged in sand after Tommy mistook the beach for a road. What a crazy Dunedin journey it had been - a prelude to what was coming in 2018. Tommy tried reversing the car, but it only had sand spewing into the sky like geysers. I was due at the work in Queenstown the next day!!
But what were these two, empowering new crystals about? A 21st gift from the universe? Keys to my Dunedin-bound journey? They seemed to fit perfectly in my thumbs...
Ever since the whimsical experience on the night of my 20th birthday (Read: '20th Birthday Tale - An Interesting Gift', if you're interested in that), I started to believe that the birthday season is a fertile time for something marvellous to transpire. Why should it not? It is a celebration of the day we arrived here on Earth. And turning 21 is apparently a big moment in the great Odyssey.
But I still wasn't sure why.
The Dunedin Hook
My parents wanted to steal me from the mountains on an Auckland-bound plane. But before I could politely respond, the Dunedin hook came to retrieve me.SHEEP had confirmed this coming week to be the one in which we gather in Dunedin once again, take a shaggy step forward as a noise-wielding unit, and record an EP. Playing with Sheep was, unparalleled, the single most frenetic activity I knew. I couldn't imagine a more wild birthday bash, even if I tried. Regardless of any other ideas that may have surfaced, the Dunedin hook had come to see me in my Queenstown adobe with an invitation I couldn't refuse.
Zooming out from the mountains and across Central Otago in my emerald journey-wagon, I was starting to feel as if Dunedin was tugging at my soul. It was the 5th time I had been pulled into a journey to Dunedin, and like all the previous times, it was a quest that revolved around music and my longtime friend and bandmate Tommy. It was thanks to him and SHEEP that I was having these adventures. But as I discovered last time, there was a hidden meaning behind my trips there. (Read: The Celestine Prophecy) As I popped over the rolling hills and unveiled the glistening ocean, nostalgia tapped me on the shoulder. It felt like Dunedin was pleased to have me back, as if it was trying to tell me something. Did I have a dance with destiny in this town? I wondered if the alignment with my 21st birthday had something to do with it.
Arriving back at the Chambers Street Flat in North Dunedin almost felt like returning home after an arduous hike in the hills. The porch was alight with sunshine and friends punching darts - they greeted me as though I was gone for a single day. Despite the unkempt rooms and the abominated kitchen, I felt comfortable there. It was definitely the people; they made all the difference.
And it was great to re-unite once again with Tommy and Toby; it was in an Auckland high school where we started playing music, and now we were in the deep south. It wasn't long before we cleared a space in the lounge, vacuumed the sea of crumbs, and had electricity spilling from our instruments and fizzing at our fingertips. For the next hour or so, we let the music surge forth. It crackled down the hall and whipped out onto the street. It rattled the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink. Sheep, in all its loudness, had manifested before us once again. Now we just needed to spend the next few days taming this sonic kraken, harnessing its ferocity, and take it to the studio.
The neighbouring blocks of houses and flats were likely fuming; Sheep had turned the entire flat into a giant noise chamber; a defiant cell. We took to practicing this stuff like a full time job. But during our breaks, we escaped on back country drives to avoid the pitchfork-wielding neighbours, and scouted hidden overgrown glens. Yellow gripped the hills. Fields were awash. This land was beautiful, and had such a different flavour to Queenstown and its halls of mountains and lakes. I was feeling its allure, and seriously considering moving here. That's when Tommy pulled us aside, and told us something crazy.
21 Years Under the Sun
I woke to a sharp scratching sensation crawling up my leg, and then up my spine. It was unsettling; my eye twitched a little. A wee head popped out through the top of my sleeping bag - it was Tommy's pet rat, Mouse! I didn't know this accomodation came with free Rat-cupuncture as a part of the birthday deal!I was thrilled to be awake at such an early hour, especially on this day. I had a chance to be swept by Dunedin as the others snoozed. I decided to go right into the heart of Dunedin city - The Octagon. I just sat there on the grass, contemplating things as the world spiralled around me. It seemed like Dunedin had really caught me on its hook, reeled me in from the mountains, and now I was sitting comfortably in its belly. Yep, this place swallowed me.
It was right about then that I realised what my 21st birthday was all about. Of course I was meant to come to Dunedin! I was unearthing a deep affinity for this place, and realising rather quickly that this place was the home I was steadily discovering. And to catch wind of the SHEEP tour down New Zealand at the dawn of 2018, ending in Dunedin - it appeared as if destiny was guiding me here all along, with my role in SHEEP and my friendship with Tommy the subtle invitation from the universe; the Dunedin hook.
For such a defining moment in my journey, and as a 21st gift to myself, I needed an item of great significance - some kind of treasure to empower the next chapter of my journey. Right there on the fringe of the Octagon was a dinky little shop that appeared to be winking at me. It was called 'The Little Rock Shop', and in the window sat the those smug crystals that beckoned me over; catching the morning sun. 'Perfect!' I thought. The Citrine that hung from my neck was crumbling to pieces, so I decided that a new gem to hang from my neck would be fitting.
I stepped inside; it was like walking into the magicians quarter. This was Dunedin's cubby of jewels. The inner city treasure trove. It was quaint, colourful and magical - I didn't know where to rest my eyes. I was naturally drawn to the pockets of acorn sized crystals at the counter, which I started fossicking through. I pulled out a gorgeous little piece from the collection of citrine; it was radiant and as smooth as a geisha's silk. As I stood there admiring it, the lady behind the counter arose from her position, and handed me a black crystal of a similar shape. "Take a look at this one. It's quite dark for a Pounamu, wouldn't you agree?" I held the inky-greenstone beside the glowing Citrine, and it almost looked as though these 2 crystals were siblings. Together, they spoke to me. So I purchased them. 'I'll bind them together, and make a new necklace', I thought to myself, exiting the shop with my 2 new companions jangling in a pouch.
As far as birthdays go, I couldn't have asked for much more than to play music! The rest of the day was spent in the lounge, practicing with SHEEP, and just jamming out my own music on a Casio Privia keyboard. And in the evening, as if I wasn't already convinced of Dunedin's unique hospitality, we were invited to a "pasta dinner" by a friend of Tommy's. We followed the address to a little blue dwelling on the hill, and were warmly welcomed in by the lovely girl who had generously prepared a scrumptious feast for us. I was astonished - today of all days?? It was such healthy, vibrant chow - freshly grown and prepared. I was grateful beyond measure - it was the most beautiful gift, and she had no idea it was my birthday. It was the first time I had ever seen her!
We didn't expect to be filling our belly's in this cozy blue bungalow. It was a God-send, as we needed all the energy we could gather for the hectic night ahead of us. Health brimming in our bones, we said our thanks and farewells, and slipped out into the hushed evening.
Recording the EP
Take a look at this Dunedin dweller.
It may appear inconspicuous on the outside, but it's hiding a dusty secret. The top floor, a favourite gig space named with ruthless creativity - 'The Attic' - was to be our recording chamber for the next two nights. As we sauntered up the stairs when the town had made its final yawn, I felt like a ninja with keys to the city. It was certainly a privilege to record an EP here, of all places.
To record us was Oscar - a local friend, sound wiz, and equipment master. As we entered the room, he was busy arranging his computer on a stool, the microphones on stands, and sending cables slithering around the room and over the rustic couches like snakes. We understood the memo, and got straight down to business, setting up our instruments respectively.
The initial weight of the task really fell on Toby and I. We were both leaving Dunedin in 2 days, so it was imperative that we get perfect takes of the bottom line, so that Tommy could spend the next few months adding his layers of guitar crunch and vocals.
Six songs, two all-nighters. Seemed reasonable.
Oscar was our anchor. He sat there behind his laptop, seemingly undisturbed by our abusively loud and receptive attempts at the tracks. "Alright, lets try another take," he would say, signalling to us with a subtle head nod. Toby counted us in, and crashed into the songs. I attacked my keys - since my role wasn't physically demanding, I focused on punching all the energy I had through my fingers and into every note that I played. It looked as though Tommy was the same, a whirling dervish with his guitar. Our night was chewed up like this, tasting like metallic frustration, until at last we succeeded at a track. And then it was straight back to the grind-stone again. If we didn't have two nights for this, it would have been chaos electrified. We spent the day in-between sleeping/recharging, and doing not much else. Going back up for round 2 was almost intimidating.
We tumbled out onto George street after a brutal but successful second night of recording. It was about 7am, and Dunedin was already starting its next day. Cars and cyclists trickled by on the road, and people walked swiftly to work along the sidewalk - they scanned us up and down as if we were aliens with instruments. It didn't bother us - we had completed the task, and now the EP was in the hands of Oscar and Tommy.
We spent the final day piled up in the wagon, swerving along the seaside hills, dusting up gravel roads, and getting the cars wheels submerged in sand after Tommy mistook the beach for a road. What a crazy Dunedin journey it had been - a prelude to what was coming in 2018. Tommy tried reversing the car, but it only had sand spewing into the sky like geysers. I was due at the work in Queenstown the next day!!
But what were these two, empowering new crystals about? A 21st gift from the universe? Keys to my Dunedin-bound journey? They seemed to fit perfectly in my thumbs...
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