Martin Phillipps & The Chills

The son of a Methodist minister, Martin Phillipps was wooed by punk before forming the first incarnation of The Chills in New Zealand in the 1980s. Ahead of the band’s first Australian tour in 18 years, he speaks to RENÉ SCHAEFER about his formative years in Dunedin, the band’s numerous incarnations and the resurgence of the label that put them on the map, Flying Nun.

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.] Martin Phillipps formed The Chills in 1980 in Dunedin, on New Zealand’s South Island. Inspired by the punk revolution, he had previously cut his teeth in a short-lived group called The Same, but his inspirations were far broader than the punk label could encompass. David Bowie, ‘60s garage rock, psychedelia and songwriters such as Carole King and Nick Drake all informed Phillipps’ latest group.

The new decade was a very fertile one for New Zealand post-punk bands, especially in Dunedin. The nascent Flying Nun Records, helmed by Roger Shepherd and 4-track aficionado Chris Knox, documented and promoted a new scene of fresh, young guitar bands, such as The Pin Group, The Clean, The Verlaines, Straightjacket Fits, Sneaky Feelings and The Bats.

The Chills were one of the label’s flagship acts, releasing several classic singles and EPs throughout the early ’80s, later compiled on Kaleidoscope World (1986). An ever-changing line-up and a relocation to the UK contributed to an erratic recording career, and their debut album proper, Brave Words, wasn’t released until 1987. It was followed by Submarine Bells (1990) and Soft Bomb (1992).

The latter was recorded in California with a mostly American line-up. Not entirely satisfied with the result, once again without a permanent band, and suffering from the effects of hepatitis, Phillipps decided to retire The Chills moniker. A wonderful “Best Of” compilation, Heavenly Pop Hits (1994), served as a summary of The Chills’ achievements up to this point.

Continuing adoration from fans and fellow musicians around the world has occasionally drawn the songwriter out of his self-imposed exile in Dunedin throughout the ’90s and 2000s. Two 1996 releases, Sunburnt and Surrounded, were credited to Martin Phillips and The Chills. Unfortunately, they quickly sank without a trace, mostly due to disinterest from Flying Nun’s new co-owners Festival Records. Merging fully with Festival Mushroom Records in 2000, and then being sold off to Warner Music Group six years later, meant fluctuating fortunes for Flying Nun. With the departure of Shepherd, very little attention was paid to the label’s back catalogue or the artists who created the Flying Nun myth in the first place. It was a lean time for musicians like Phillipps.

Occasional signs of life came in the form of Sketchbook (1999), a CD of home-recorded demos, followed by a massive collection of Chills rarities and live cuts from the ’80s entitled Secret Box (2001). A self-released EP of new Chills material, Stand By, surfaced in 2004. And while standing by is exactly what Chills fans have been doing ever since, the last year has seen a new surge of interest in older Flying Nun bands.

A lot of this is due to the return of Shepherd, who re-acquired Flying Nun in partnership with Neil Finn and other investors, and has promised a campaign of classic re-issues. With renewed interest from Australia, in no small part due to the enthusiasm of local record label Mistletone, bands like The Bats and The Chills are also finally realising that touring Australia is entirely worth their while, as recent sold-out shows attest.

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.] It’s hard to believe, but there was a time before the birth of the Flying Nun label and before The Chills. What was it like for you growing up in Dunedin?
I was born in Wellington on July 2, 1962, then at the age of 18 months we moved to Auckland. A few years later, after my father became a Methodist minister, we moved to his first placing as a minister which was in Milton - a small town about 45 minutes south of Dunedin. That was a wonderful place to grow up, with wide streets to play on, few cars to worry about, ’60s TV to watch and great songs on the radio. My two sisters and I were sad to leave there when dad got his next job as university chaplain at Otago University in Dunedin in 1970. This has been my home ever since - although I spent most of the late '80s and early '90s in Auckland, London, Los Angeles and Auckland again.

Dunedin has only a little over 100,000 people, but these days it has a creative community to rival many a major city. It was, of course, not quite that vibrant in the ’70s, but it is a beautiful city and has access to extraordinary natural beauty in all directions, which has contributed strongly to the art which is created here. It can certainly be a little stifling at times, but it is the perfect place to return to after exposure to some of the world's wonders.

How did you first develop a love of music?
I remember being aware of the music my parents listened to on the radio when I was very young and they got us children a copy of 'Peter And The Wolf' b/w 'Carnival Of The Animals', which we played and played.

Sixties pop music (on radio and TV, in the form of The Banana Splits and The Monkees etc) made a huge impact on me, as did glitter rock when it came along. But it was the excitement of punk rock which changed my world for ever. There was a feeling of being part of a world-wide movement, which the establishment frowned upon (at the very least!). Initially, I didn't understand the need for a new music to rid the world of dinosaurs and so on, so it was just the energy and camaraderie that was so attractive.

My father has always sung in choirs etc, and my mother used to play cello in a small youth orchestra so there has always been a love of music in our family. My sisters and I were forced to take piano lessons in the early '70s but I am now thankful for that basic training, as it helped me to visualise music in a way I would not have been able to do otherwise.

Before you formed The Chills you played in The Same, which was around the time that bands like The Enemy and Toy Love first made an impact on the local scene. Tell me a bit about that era. What was the mood like in those post-punk days? Did you feel that a local community of original bands was emerging?
I saw The Enemy only twice and found them to be really exciting and a little bit frightening too - although that was partly because of the atmosphere surrounding those gigs, where there was always the likelihood of being beaten up by the pro-disco Neanderthals who would hang around outside. The Enemy had great songs and when they changed into Toy Love I saw them on a number of occasions and got to know them. By that stage I had been invited to join The Same and ultimately replaced Jeff Batts (who went on to form The Stones) as lead singer.

I had also become friends with The Clean, in particular Peter Gutteridge, who helped me form The Chills a year or so later. There was a great sense of community in the alternative music scene in Dunedin at that time, with everyone helping each other out, sharing equipment, venues, girlfriends and so on. We were lucky to have avoided the competition and in-fighting which ruined many other music scenes in other places around the world. I suppose nobody was really struggling with poverty here, so there wasn't that desperation which played such an important part in making great music in other parts of the world. We were largely just middle-class kids having fun and being rebellious in a safe environment.

The Same never released any records. Is that something you regret?
The Same were a fun band to be a part of and had a number of line-up changes during their brief existence - about a year-and-a-half - but we were by no means a great band. The songs were pretty average at best and the playing was very rudimentary - and not even in a cool way. A number of live tapes exist and I might put together some sort of release at some stage.

I am still very pleased though, that in 1990 (10years after we broke up) I discovered that all seven or so key members were in Dunedin for Christmas at the same time. I asked Flying Nun if they would pay for a day's recording and they agreed. Although, in true Flying Nun fashion, the master tape was subsequently lost, I still have my cassette copy and that might be released eventually.

We recorded all seven or so of our original songs, and because most of the band members hadn't touched an instrument in years, it was pretty much as shonky as the real thing a decade earlier. We used as much of the original equipment as possible. It’s a pretty authentic document of how we sounded on a good day.

“I always knew that I didn't want The Chills to sound like anyone else in particular, but influences are unavoidable and all sorts of things crept into the mix.”

Right from the early days of The Chills, in 1980, you had a very distinctive sound and song-writing style. What was the vision you had for the band?
I always knew that I didn't want The Chills to sound like anyone else in particular, but influences are unavoidable and all sorts of things crept into the mix. Punk rock was important because of the energy level. The influence of ’60s garage rock, psychedelia, etc played a big part as well, once I discovered that. Then there were the major songwriters who I listened to: David Bowie, Randy Newman, Jimmy Webb, Bob Dylan, Buffy Sainte-Marie, Chris Knox, Scott Walker, Carole King, Brian Wilson, Nick Drake, Syd Barrett and so on. There were many other factors, like the discovery of Krautrock - largely through the re-issue of the Can catalogue in the early ’80s - which had a huge influence on many of the important Dunedin bands at that time.

Many people feel that the Dunedin Double EP (1982), featuring The Chills, The Stones, The Verlaines and Sneaky Feelings, defined the “Dunedin Sound”. Was that a label that The Chills embraced?
The Dunedin Double EP is a good and important example of the music that was made by people from this city during the ’80s and early ’90s, but no single recording defines that movement. Like any people who are given a convenient tag by the media, The Chills, like the rest of the bands, didn't particularly like it but also weren't that concerned about it. These things are inevitable.

Your early singles, ‘Rolling Moon’, ‘Pink Frost’ and ‘Doledrums’ are quite diverse in their moods and sounds. By what process did they get chosen as singles?
I have always written songs using very diverse musical styles. This has often caused problems when trying to get across what the band is actually about, or when trying to place all those styles alongside each other on an album, but it is always fairly obvious when a song has the potential to reach a larger audience. I have never been able to write a hit because we need one, so I just take what comes.

I would like to ask you about your song ‘Doledrums’ in particular. It deals with such an almost mundane topic, but you lend it gravity and pathos. What inspired the lyric?
I wrote the lyrics to 'Doledrums' in a deliberately downbeat manner to contrast with the upbeat musical backing, but also because I was having the time of my life being paid to be unemployed. I got to sleep in and stay at home, writing songs or going out drinking with my friends and still had money to buy records and comics. It is a very tongue-in-cheek song.

Is poverty necessary to create great art?
I don't believe that it is necessary, but I am sure it can drive some people to create more powerful work. On the other hand, poverty usually just gets in the way of achieving anything at all.

As the band progressed, did it become easier to reconcile the desire to keep playing music with the demands of everyday existence?
It was, in fact, a relief to find that I could make a living from making my own music. During the ’80s in particular, I felt that it was OK to be me for the first time in my life.

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.]

Are most of your songs autobiographical?
I suppose many of my songs are based upon actual experiences I’ve had, but many are inspired by what I have seen around me through my life. I have written about other people's situations as well, and I have also made up complete fiction if it seems to suit the musical setting. 'Pink Frost', for example, needed a lyric to explain the sombre backing, so I wrote about a man who woke to find that he had strangled his girlfriend in his sleep. Incidentally, I heard that this actually happened a few years ago.

You deal with romantic entanglements in many of your songs, such as ‘Oncoming Day’, ‘I’ll Only See you Alone Again’ and ‘Look For The Good In Others’. Some are hopeful, some are resigned. Does it ever feel strange to have bared so much in a song and have it stand as a permanent reminder of a particular time or situation?

Some songs become a little painful or downright embarrassing to look back upon, but for the most part, I am pleased that I wrote about my relationships as honestly as I was able to. There are some songs I would not be happy having to play again, while others have become somewhat timeless, which is of course extremely pleasing to me, as their creator.

Despite many international tours and overseas acclaim, you chose to return to Dunedin. What was it that drew you back there?
When I was away from New Zealand too long, I felt like a battery that was running down. There is something about the very land here, which charges me up. Dunedin in particular has that effect on me. It would definitely have made more sense commercially to have stayed on in London, or New York, or Los Angeles, but I still believe that my creative muse would have been altered in ways which I would not have been happy with, through lack of contact with my home environment.

One thing I really appreciate about bands like The Chills is that there is never any question of quitting music. Most of the people who were your contemporaries are still making great music. Where does this determination come from?
I believe that most of us got into music for the right reasons - we just HAD to! It was something from within, which left no alternative. It wasn't about the desire to become famous or wealthy, or anything which can be an incentive for far too many musicians - particularly these days with these idol-making machines, encouraging people to become "famous" without expecting any real talent or originality from them.

The Flying Nun label went through a noticeable decline as a cultural force and commercial entity throughout the 1990s and early 2000s. With Roger Shepherd back at the helm, do you think the label and its core artists are experiencing a renaissance?
Like most of the older bands, we are very hopeful that Roger will be able to put real life back into the label. It was a tragedy and an insult to see what was happening to one of the most outstanding bodies of work produced by any label, anywhere, ever. There is a lot to be done though, so we are all being realistic with our expectations.

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THE CHILLS AUSTRALIAN TOUR

Friday, May 14
East Brunswick Club, Melbourne, VIC
w/Guy Blackman + East Brunswick All Girls Choir
Sold out

Saturday, May 15
Oxford Art Factory, Sydney, NSW
w/Songs (trio)