Howdy – Chris had a good weekend – he had his first Epic (beer of champions) since the stroke whilst watching Frankenstein (orig. 1931 James Whale version o’course). Now unfortunately I couldn’t join him for certain reasons but if the rest of you felt like imbibbing I wouldn’t criticise.

We have also been out for several walks around the neighbourhood and it was nice to see Chris reintegrating into his community.

On Sunday we went to an art exhibition & it was a glorious Auckland day so we sat on the deck in the sun & drank tea. We even managed quite an indepth discussion of an issue to do with the album &, after some perseverance, I think I understood what Chris wanted pretty well.

It’s good to see Chris’ quality of life improving.

Howdy -  Chris is well & loving chocolate icecreams & curries – needs a haircut though, the scruff. ‘Stroke’ is drawing near to it’s mastering stage. We’re looking at a release party & booking a venue. Revolution#9  in mono is soooooo much better than in stereo. Abbey Road remaster is a religious experience – close yer eyes & you can see ‘em! John would have bin 69 today.  Sob.

Ron

Hi All – Chris is having a quiet weekend. We did some work on the new Tall Dwarfs album on Saturday after attempting to watch DVDs (nobody ever mention ‘aspect ratio’ to me). Then we did some work on completing ‘Stroke’ – I should receive the remainder of the tracks in the next two weeks & then we’re into production.

Ron

Hiya -  On Friday night we showed Chris the artwork that Alec has done for ‘Stroke’ and played him some of the tracks that we’ve received. It was a neat moment & Chris was thrilled to hear the interpretations of his songs. The next day (as reported in the last blog) we went into the studio to add our own track (Chris Knox & The Nothing) to the album – and it was great for Chris to be back with a band with a microphone in his hand belting out tunes in a free-form, Ono-esque manner. We had so much fun we thought we should make a record at some point in the not-to-distant future. It is amazing & weird that the stroke has taken speech away (for the time being) but left Chris’ musicality intact. Having recording projects ahead (incl The Tall Dwarfs) gives Chris’ musicality focus and meaning.

On Sunday we watched a Brian Wilson live DVD which Chris enjoyed. He’s also been for a swim for the first time since the stroke. He’s gagging for a beer (who wouldn’t be?) but being responsible types (well, some of us) we’ve put the kibosh on that for the time being.

Spewing ACDC riffs, blues standards & free jazz The Nothing briefly reformed at Intellectually Handicapped Studios East for a performance for an elite group of music fans. Muff’s drum sound was perfected when the one mic the bone-idle engineer had allowed him for the drums fell off the stand and rolled under the kit. Ron’s guitar sound had finally been perfected with the discovery of Jim Dunlop 2″ picks which finally gave him that elusive tone he had been seeking, finally. Biff’s Ibanez bass scoured the room like a rutting warthog. Christofur’s jangly squeaks & squeals summoned forth all his demons and joy mingled together like so much mingled belly-button fluff, and reminded everyone of the “Dunedin sound” (finally available as a ProTools Plug-In for EU$195 from ‘wheresmyfamegoneandwhydoesnooneknowwhoiamanymore.org.com.nz’ – expander pack comes with Poor Management, Inability to Stop, and 90dB Bannister Detector)

It was all captured by yours truly, Ray Martini, on my trusty Porta-Tape Analogue Replicating Cassette Plug-In Tape Analogue Tube Vintage TEAC 412/PC Series 3b 1″ Ultra-Tape 35 Track as used by The Beatles for the backwards snare sound on Drive My Car. It was all trapped in glorious mono (’less width more depth’ was my slogan goddamit!) and I will soon use every processing digit of ProTools to edit out all signs of life.

It was great to see the boys back together after all Cynthia’s trials of the past 6 months. He was rewaxed and ployful for the entire weakend afterwards.The charges against him being the real talent of the band seem to be subsiding and a basic form of humidity is emerging.

Ron, however, was still the perfectionist, demanding micro-tonal changes to Muff’s drums – he had actually arranged for a drum-tech to be flown in from LA to tune the 20 piece Gretsch kit that Warners had hired for the occasion, but her flight was diverted due to Imelda Marcos deciding she had been snubbed enough times already. Muff & Ron fought bitterly over the upcoming plan for Ron’s solo blues album, tenatively titled ‘Greyphis’, after Ron’s belief that Grey Lynn is the new Memphis, & that he is John Lee Hooker’s lovechild (which, Muff delighted in pointing out, simply couldn’t be true genetically speaking as Ron was “as white as man”).

Muff was looking clean, lean, mean & wholly gluten-free. His year of astral travel in the ashram at Portland Oregan had almost robbed him of the will to play rock drums as he had discovered his art was of hasidic and aboriginal roots and Boom Chak was a far cry from the unfettered artiness of being arty. He had decided to detune his lifestyle to a drop B# tuning that was post-rock but in a highly musical way.

Time has however not been so kind to Biff. His time off hard drugs has left him oddly personable – which none of us could stand. His upcoming weeding to a Greek supermodel seems like avoidance behaviour and we’re hoping to see him juiced to the eyeballs again soon. Still worse he has contracted an incurable advertising condition and will be on our screeds soon.

For me personally it was a great moment & all the intervening years of fame & turmoil seemed to melt away and once again I was just ol’ Ray the tape op & the lads tousled my hair and offered me chip butties & cups of tea just like in the old days.

Peas & Loaf,

Ray

The moors rustled with the deep pulsing of the wind. The moon gave a surreal icey-blue glaze to the heather.  The lone Knox wandered the grassy knolls, nose twitching, for new prey. Shadows of the limping, leering, lunging  Knox swept over the heather in patches of dark. The slow ’schllllffff-thunk, schllllfff-thunk’ of his gait would warn all but the most unsuspecting of creatures of his approach. The tiny paneer-mouse (recently imported on the whim of a drunken Botswanan on the firm, but misguided, belief that its fur, dried, crushed & strained into a tea, would cure his gout) however had not had its ears cleaned recently at the Hearing Association in Remuera, and therefore its hearing was not as acute as it could have been.

The Knox spied his prey, and with the four-prongs of his barely used (and therefore almost sterile) walking stick pinned the four legs of the paneer-mouse to the ground – thus ensuring a minimum of damage to its delicious non-vegetarian flesh. He threw himself on his victim & with his rather well kept teeth ripped the fur (which was in fact totally useless for anything at all) off the screaming animal & threw its tiny carcass, still writhing in agony, into the local microwave to curry for tea (with some left-over rice to provide carbs).

Replete, the Knox lay to briefly shuffle no more as slumber engulfed the weary denizen of the night – his nostrils still twitched with the thrill of the kill & his grey bristle was smeared with the paneer-mouse’s remnants, which hung in the moon-light as a terrible warning to other paneer-mice of the unpleasant fate that awaits those that choose to turn a deaf ear.

Moaning All – Chris turned a torn in two & brown 57 yesterday (despite Paul) & last note there was a gathering of fiends, faminily and even museumusician-types to wish him weller (despite Paul).

Wrongs were wrung, bakes was beaten, pressies were presciented (thanks heaps to Chris Mousdale for organising the Beatles remasticated monotone settee that we’ve pre-cooked at Real Groovy).

His Knoxiness had an irate rhyme of hits – partially enjoying mousing versions of The Monkees’ ‘Getting Older’,  The Clean’s ‘I’m a Believer’ & Badfinger’s ‘I’m So Tired’ (despite Paul).

…. and in the end, the love you make is equal to the cakes you bake (despite Paul)