Here be another of James Greig's live recordings from back in the good old days.
I remember tying my horse up outside this bar, kicking in the saloon doors, Smith & Wesson in both hands, ready for the usual showdown before I could get to the bar for my usual whisky bottle.
The coffin maker was always hangin round outside rubbing his hands...
Oh hang on, shit... hang on, that was a Clint Eastwood film.
I will hand you over to James now...
He has a more reliable brain.
Terminals. Subway, 1988
James Greig 3:46 a.m.
Terminals were part of an event where I saw the first three Flying Nun bands I'd ever seen live. Flying Nun Xmas party, hosted by Maryrose Crook (in 'The Max Block' at that point, pre -'Renderers') above an auto parts joint in Oxford Terrace, Christchurch, probably 1987.
I was 17 and didn't understand the way things worked at all, to the point where, I was offered a toke of the ol' Mary Jane and I asked what it was. Dick. Glad I declined, because I had to drive anyway.
Terminals were something. It was before their first release, the 'Disconnect' EP came out.
Stephen Cogle's pipes got to me especially. That warble was/is the sound of the three tenors being forced to dry dock a ship by themselves.
This thing Rob's put up is a recording of a gig they did a year or so later at The Subway,1988.
Recorded on the Walkman again, which I lost when my car got nicked one night. The filth found the stolen vehicle, but, unfortunately, the walkman was gone, as were the doors to the car.
Why the doors?! No wonder...... I'm not really a big Doors fan :)
I was more upset about the walkman than the car, vastly unlike my father. But then his idea of music is a dinner party, with the 'Cats' soundtrack on the stereo, and the stereo turned off.
Anyway, I bet those fuckers who nicked my car used the walkman for nothing more than farting into it and hearing it back (the pricks) if they could even work out how to do that, before selling it to a pawn shop.
Terminals this night at The Subway were a joy to see. Kind of a different band back then, but the same ethos. Ross Humpheries was still there, in the days before Brian Crook showed up and gave the sun the blisters it deserves.
To Rob, this sounds like a sedate version of the band. Listening to this again my memory doesn't suggest that. They just became dirtier and more intense when the line up changed. There has always been a dark and forboding beauty about them, which I cherish. You could call some of these pieces great 'pop' songs, often buried beneath hunger, anger, worry and misplaced love.
So enjoy this for what it is; a recording made at a time when some bands in the lower half of the south island of NZ embraced the psychededic and poppy sounds that came out of the '60s and made them their own.
Download: Terminals Live at The NZR Tavern.