Dudes Liner Notes

For your entertainment and edification, here are the liner notes from Dudes CDs released around the time of th' 2006 Reunion Tour.

Th' Dudes: "Pubs, Parks, Theatres, Clubs, Church Halls, Gardens, Lounges and Band Rotundas" - 5 track CD, October 2006

Th' Dudes' best known records are so familiar that it's easy to forget that these songs had their own history, their own lives before they were cast in radiophonic stone at Stebbing Studios in 1979 and 1980. It's easy to forget that we gigged these songs around the country for three or four years, developing and honing the arrangements, playing them hundreds of times in pubs, parks, theatres, clubs, church halls, gardens, lounges and band rotundas.

This CD gives a tiny glimpse of these other lives: here are alternative recordings of Th' Dudes' greatest hits, plus an extra track, "Chinese", from the early days that never made it onto the albums.

"Chinese", Harlequin Studios 1977/78
Although the New Zealand pop charts still featured the likes of Cliff Richard and ABBA, at grassroots level - in the pubs and clubs - the punk explosion blew away an entire generation of blues-wailin', disco-dancin', funky-jivin' musicians. Th' Dudes lapped up punk's energy and excitement and - although we never considered ourselves part of the genre - we gleefully grabbed on to its ripped backside. "Chinese" was an attempt at writing a song that at least had the number of beats per minute that punk required. What's it about? Who knows? Interestingly, English band The Vapors had a hit in 1979 with a song called "Turning Japanese" that had the exact same descending/ascending chord progression. Coincidence? I DON'T THINK SO!!!

With new bass player Lez White on board, we recorded Chinese early in 1978 at Harlequin Studios in Albert Street, Auckland. This cozy place, in its brief lifespan, ran almost every notable Auckland band through its crunchy MCI mixing desk, from the Screaming Meemees to Blam Blam Blam. Harlequin was torn down in the pre-crash property frenzy of the mid-1980s and has been a derelict carpark ever since. Early on Sunday mornings, if you stand quietly in parking bay 4G, you can hear the ghosts of Auckland's punk past...

"Quite Frankly", Harlequin Studios 1977/78
Quite frankly had been a staple of Th' Dudes' live set for over two years before it became Be Mine Tonite when we recorded the official version in 1979. This version was recorded at the same session as Chinese.

"Right First Time", 1ZM Studios Auckland 1978
Back in the day, the state broadcaster, Radio New Zealand, would provide studio time to up and coming artists and give the results "special", late night airtime, thereby supporting local music without having to actually play it alongside the tried-and-true hits from overseas.

We recorded this in August 1978 at RNZ's wonderful - and long-since pulled down - art deco studios in Durham Lane, Auckland. RNZ's engineer was one Paul Streekstra, a mad Dutchman whom we immediately persuaded to quit his safe, civil service job and come on th' road as our soundman. I'm sure he never for a moment thought his job description would include getting punched out by Australian roadies in Coolangatta.

"Walking In Light", 2ZM Studios Wellington 1979
Not to be outdone, RNZ in Wellington offered us an afternoon in their Bowen Street studios. We recorded five tracks, among them the newly-penned Walking in Light, a cross between the Rolling Stones and Beehoven's "Moonlight Sonata".

"Bliss", Brydon Tavern, Oamaru 1980
Once we'd announced that Th' Dudes were breaking up, we embarked on a massive nationwide farewell tour, playing every brilliant bar and claustrophobic club we could find. At the Brydon in Oamaru, soundman Rikki Morris connected a cassette recorder to his mixing desk and captured a raucous performance.

Th' Dudes: "Th' 2006 Reunion Tour Live" - CD, December 2006

In my other life as a jingle writer, simmering in the cauldron of the New Zealand advertising industry, there's always the "Just a Little Country" brief. This brief is given when the advertising agency, even more bereft of ideas than usual, resorts to the last refuge of the scoundrel: patriotism. Tell the punters how great NZ is, and - with luck - some of their pride will rub off on the product.

The brief consists of a couple of agency creatives handing me a pageful of suitably nationalistic clichés and asking me to put them to suitably clichéd music. Invariably the thing starts with "We're just a little country, but we've come a long, long way", followed pretty smartly by "From North Cape to the Bluff..."

Well, after a return to nationwide touring following a break of twenty-six years, I'm here to report that, from North Cape to the Bluff, we are just a little country, and we have come a long, long way.

Back in the '70s, in the days of Th' Dudes' big red CF Bedford van, we were lucky to get tea at Te Kuiti. Now we can get espresso in Ekatahuna, panini at Punakaiki, and a flat white at Flat Rock.

In the days of th' CF we had to steal petrol from parked cars at night because the gas stations were closed due to the oil crisis. Now we don't have to steal it - although as petrol costs thirteen times as much, we wish we did. It's still highway robbery.

In the days of th' CF our road crew were fans of the band we'd picked up along the way and who succumbed to the lure of a rock 'n' roll lifestyle. We hired a tiny Toyota truck to carry our amps and drums and two state-of-the-art Cerwin Vega p.a. speakers. Now a tight team of road-hardened professionals packs and unpacks a giant removal truck full of audio and lighting equipment every day, sandwiching Th' Dudes into a touring schedule that might include Metallica, Moby, and Dame Malvina Major.

In the days of th' CF we slept in a flea-jumping, grease-begrimed room next to the hotel kitchens, and ate fat-ridden ham steaks with rotting coleslaw, a pineapple ring, and glubby gravy that tasted of the bottom of old ovens. Now we stay at hotels with porters and turn-down service, and each night the nation's finest caterers bring to us the nation's finest food, fresh and nutritious.

In the days of th' CF, recording a live show meant feeding the output of our little mixing desk into a crappy cassette deck and hoping the distortion wouldn't render the results completely inaudible. Now we have a dedicated 24-track digital package that slots seamlessly into the computerized live sound system and records every show onto a massive hard drive.

This hard drive was delivered to me at the igStudio a week after our final show in late October 2006. The mission, should I choose to accept it, was to compile and mix a live album for Christmas release. Not impossible, but - with a dozen or more hour-long shows to audition and edit - certainly daunting.

The big question, of course, was how did it sound? We're a grubby, raw, rock 'n' roll band live: would it work on a CD, outside the bounds of a grubby, raw, rock 'n' roll venue, away from the noise and smoke and beer and lights?

I picked a night at random, dragged the files for "Napier, October 19" into my computer, and hit "Play". Bruce's drums thundered into "Walking In Light". Yow! My guitar hit the riff, Les and Dave slammed in, Peter cajoled the crowd: " I smell a good night coming on!". Shee-yit! It's pumping! It's jumping! It's red hot!

No question: this CD is live Bliss.