Butterfly International Day Of Peace – MAN

You’ve got to give credit where credit is due – everytime I look on bandcamp it seems like Butterfly International Day Of Peace has a new thing out – EP, album, whatever. At first I dismissed it as melodramatic popera but then the persistence did something to me, through the sheer repetition and tenacity of it BIDOP becomes a strange art project perhaps a little similar to Perfume Genius (credit to Matt who pointed that out; piano balladry and all that). I mean. I mean. When I was in high school I used to try and right rock operas and they were all universally terrible but at least it kept me in the music room and out of the open – as Pauline ‘spunky’ Kael used to say, you don’t have to be the chicken to know if the egg tastes good, but it helps if you’re a bad chicken who makes bad rock operas with your friend who ended up with a commerce degree he doesn’t use.

–Which is to say there is something endearing about song and piano – there’s something endearing about the resolutely lo-fi process, mistakes and overloading the mic and all of it. There’s something brave about the way BIDOP reveal themselves – flaws and inclination for the melodramatic and all. It’s refreshing to hear music, even music I don’t care for, which is such an unadorned and unaltered reflection of its creator. We talk about ‘authenticity’ a lot – Marlon Williams is Real Authentic, that country boy from Louisana  Christchurch — when mostly authenticity is a kind of put-on, just like glamour or goth or whatever. BIDOP is the real deal – it’s real because it doesn’t matter if you like it or not. It gives no fucks. B+


MarineVille – 75 Watts Frosted

It seemed apt to hold this blog on Astro Children’s last thing, because it was just so good and I’m lazy and because I write this blog in a fugue state inebriated on a mix of only Pappy Van Winkle and I ran out of Pappy – I ran out of the Pappy! Goddamn! And do you know how much that shit costs? Last time I had to sell some of my Google stock and load up my fucking Tesla space car mobile with as much as I could.


Anyway arguably the greatest softcore rock band to grace NZ during my time writing for seminal site THE CORNER was MarineVille. I think I gave them a near perfect score. And why not? They combine the melodic genius of The Chills and the rough hewn energy of an energetic five your old chewing on lego. The organ here feels full of purpose; it drives everything forward relentlessly. It is no mere decoration. Every piece of noise here is full of purpose: the sparse, non-wanky drumming, the joint vocals and Quine-esuqe guitar, the vocals which fell as if the singer’s on the edge of their voice. And the organ, eh – it all rests on the organ. It’s not overly precious: it’s rowdy and enthusiastic and feels as if it enjoying existing within the three minutes something of time. It’s surprising. It’s quite delightful, really. A