Complaint 1: That Stan says “youse”, which is not proper English

Youse might not be formal English, but there’s nothing improper or incorrect about it. Millions of people around the world use youse, particularly in Ireland, parts of England, New York, Philadelphia, Australia and New Zealand.

English is an imperfect mongrel language and sometimes the “you as singular and plural” thing doesn’t work. If I walk in a room with five people in it and say “I want you to come with me,” do I mean everyone or just one person? If I said “I want y’all/yiz/you lot/yous/you guys/[your local variant goes here],” it would be clear what I meant.

Even though “youse” is in common use in New Zealand, we’re not used to hearing people say it on the telly. It sounds weird, so people think there must be something wrong with it. But it’s just another boring old way of expressing an unambiguous pural of you.

Complaint 2: That Stan Walker sat on a table

In any other X Factor production, this would not be an issue. But in New Zealand, many people – both Maori and non-Maori – consider sitting on a table to be tapu. It’s considered very bad form to put your bottom on a surface where you could also eat.

In this modern world of Spray n’ Wipe, one could argue that the practical reason for this taboo isn’t an issue anymore. But traditions stick with people and seeing a young Maori guy sitting on a table is very upsetting for people who’ve been brought up to believe such an act is wrong.

It’s not the first time a reality show has got in trouble for this. In 2011 MasterChef New Zealand seated some contestants on a table. Since then they’ve put the back row of the masterclass on bar stools.

Maybe both these complaints have more in common than at first glance. They both stem from Stan doing something that violates a strongly held belief of some viewers. It’s wrong to say “youse”. It’s wrong to sit on a table. There’s some logic behind both, but it’s more about the discomfort of seeing or hearing a tradition disregarded.

But I feel encouraged by this drama. There’s a concern that TV3 is just using an overseas format to produce cookie-cutter TV that doesn’t capture New Zealand culture. But the uniquely New Zealand friction the X Factor is causing in some viewers is evidence that something very Aotearoan is happening in this TV programme.

We’ve just sat through the initial judges’ auditions, mercifully condensed into only four extended episodes over two weeks. (Compare and contrast with New Zealand’s Got Talent, who stretched their audition shows out into a gruelling five-week stretch.)

The auditions were as entertaining as any other version of X Factor. The weird thing is how so many viewers seemed surprised that, well, the New Zealand version was following the actual X Factor format. That’s right, we don’t get some sort of special exemption that rules out featuring those few awful singers, thrown in purely for entertainment purposes. “That’s not fair! My cousin waited for three hours at the pre-audition only to be told she wasn’t what they were looking for,” wails Bewildered of Whanganui. “They should have given her a chance instead of that angry guy!” Actually, just imagine that. Imagine if the judges’ auditions were full of adequate singers doing acceptable but not exceptional versions of “Superstitious”. Crikey, that would be dull.

There was also surprise at the appearance of classic X Factor sob stories. The mousy looking woman who perfectly belts out a Celine Dion power ballad. The grieving widower who delivers an emotional country ballad. The timid girl who is delighted when her idol joins her to sing on stage. They’re probably going to all get cut at bootcamp.

Besides, the inclusion of those segments don’t make the series any less New Zealandic. This one is different because it’s ours.

The May issue of Metro magazine has a brilliant article on the X Factor audition process. Greg Bruce goes behind the scenes, casting a cynical but insightful eye on proceedings. He notes that winning the X Factor isn’t exactly a guarantee of success, that “If you want to launch a successful music career, you’re still way, way more likely to do it elsewhere than on a televised talent show. It sounds so mundane and obvious to say it out loud, but X Factor’s success depends on contestants and viewers suspending disbelief in that reality.”

The article also looks back at the old days of NZ Idol and notes that the Idol contestants didn’t exactly become huge pop stars. Idol is a different to X Factor (Simon Cowell made sure of that) in that the final 10 contestants were chosen by public vote, meaning that lots of pretty teens with wobbly voices got through. And back then Idol didn’t have such a good reputation. Since then the world has come to realise that such X Factor alumni as Leona Lewis and One Direction aren’t evil incarnate, people less likely to dismiss the X Factor as career-ruining piffle. The X Factor isn’t a guarantee of a successful pop career, but it’s a significant foot in the door.

So from all who have passed through the judges auditions round, it looks like we’ll have a decent final 12. I don’t think we’ll see any contestants as entertainingly brilliant as Rylan or Jedward from the X Factor UK, but on the other hand, I think we’ll also skip having a Christopher Maloney. The fun thing is the process of getting down to that final 12, the lame-arse bootcamp drama and the scenic lame-arse judges retreats’ drama.

And that’s why the X Factor is so much fun. Maybe the winner will only end up being world famous in New Zealand (like 2011 X Factor US contestant Chris Rene), but while that first series is screening, we can pretend that stakes are high, that this is the real deal.

And so I discovered Roger Ebert’s film reviews and his particular style of reviewing. It was personal. It was subjective. It didn’t rely on having a great big academic knowledge of cinema (he’d learned his craft on the streets) and he wasn’t afraid to put himself in the review.

That was one of the biggest discoveries for me. I’d been taught that the writer does not put herself in the review, that it is egotistical to do so. But yet there’s actually a real person writing the review. It’s not generated by an algorithm (though I’m sure that’s not too far off). In a way it seems more honest for a reviewer to acknowledge herself and her personal reaction to a piece rather than to pretend she represents everyman.

In my intense film-viewing years (1993-2004), his film reviews led me to discover great titles I’d never seen before. I’d browse his archives, looking at four star reviews, make a list and head off to Videon to raid their shelves. I’d previously dismissed seeing “Dark City” at the cinema because I was confusing it with the vampire action flick “Blade”. But Ebert loved “Dark City” so that led me to discover it on video. It was a slick, mysterious, stylish, noir sci-fi, which is just how I like it.

But I also realised that an Ebert review didn’t blindly make me see or avoid films solely based on his review. Ebert hated “Spice World”, giving it half a star and declaring the Girls are “so detached they can’t even successfully lip-synch their own songs.” Pft! Whereas I bloody love the cheesy fun of “Spice World” and consider it one of my favourite films.

Even before his cancer diagnosis, I used to worry what would happen when he died. His extensive body of work, his archive of reviews stretching all the way to back to the 1960s would, one day, end!

In later years Ebert took to blogging, using the limitless medium as a place to write about many things other than film, including a never-produced script of a film for the Sex Pistols. But my favourite entry was his 2008 meditation on the rice cooker, “The pot and how to use it”, which was turned into a book with the delicious subtitle “The Mystery and Romance of the Rice Cooker”. He wonders, “How does the Pot know how long to cook the rice? It is a mystery of the Orient. Don’t ask questions you don’t need the answers to. The point here is to save you some time and money. If you want gourmet cooking, you aren’t going to learn about it here.”

But somehow, in more recent years, I stopped watching too many films and found I was less interested in Ebert’s work. It was still there, I still read it, but just less and less often. But the one thing that never left was the influence of his style. It inspired me when I first starting writing stuff on my website (the pastime now known as “blogging”) and it still nudges me in good directions. And from all the tributes I’ve seen today, he’s inspired many people and left the world a better place. And that’s a pretty good life to have led.

Jerry Rafferty’s sax man Raphael Ravenscroft defines the template on “Baker Street”

In 2011, American popstress Lady Gaga released “Edge of Glory” which was notable for its saxophone solo by Bruce Springsteen’s legendary sax man Clarence Clemons. “The sax solo is back,” declared the world of music. Except that didn’t happen. (Or maybe Lady Gaga was so ahead of her time that it’s taking everyone else a while to catch up.)

But this brief rebirth of the sax solo is a good enough excuse to look back at the history of the sax in pop. Patient zero was Jerry Rafferty’s “Baker Street” whose 1978 hit found a new place for the sax solo in popular music.

This kicked off a decade-long trend for sax in pop. Notable works included “Who Can It Be Now” by Men At Work (1981), the sun, surf and sax of Duran Duran’s “Rio” (1983), the smooth sax of George Michael’s “Careless Whisper” (1984), through to INXS’s epic “Never Tear Us Apart” (1988).

Coinciding with the rise of the music video, I can’t help think that the popularity of the saxophone was in part due to how cool it looked. It was not uncommon for the sax player being the only musician shown playing his instrument in a video. The sax is a great big shiny brass instrument that is played with full body emotion. Put the saxophonist in a jacket with the sleeves pushed up and you’ve got instant cool.

But what of the sax in New Zealand pop? Were the musicians of Aotearoa immune from such trends? Of course not. So to celebrate this bold, brassy period, here is a history of the saxophone in New Zealand pop videos of the 1980s.

Jon Stevens “Montego Bay” (1980)

When the saxophonist only plays on a small part of the song, what do you do with him for the rest of the video? Jon Stevens’ band solves this problem by putting the sax man on cow bell duty, before he stealthily ditches it and lets loose on his sax for the second chorus. Also, the sax cuts a better silhouette than the cardboard palm trees.
NZ On Screen

Screaming Meemees “Stars In My Eyes” (1982)

The Screaming Meemees were the most indie of all the acts to succumb to the lure of the sax, so it’s not your typical sax appearance. “Stars In My Eyes” has more of a funk brass thing going on, but the video goes all out with this silhouette of the double sax attack. See how the saxes tower over the trumpet, asserting their superiority.
YouTube

Monte Video and the Cassettes “Shoop Shoop Diddy Wop Cumma Cumma Wang Dang” (1982)

Neither the innuendo-laden song nor the video includes a saxophone, but the video is set at a bar that features a neon saxophone light. Proof that by the early ’80s, the sax was a visual icon of cool. You can’t quite see it in this shot, but there are musical notes coming out of the sax.
NZ On Screen

Sharon O’Neill “Maxine” (1983)

This is almost as classic as a 1980s video sax solo gets. But as the vid is all about Sharon (and Maxine), the video isn’t interested in who the saxophonist is. We never see his head, only his hands and his sax, playing in a dark bar. (And we know it’s a bar because there is a neon sign reading “BAR”.) This is cut with footage of Shaz looking sensually relaxed, no doubt being soothed by the sax.
NZ On Screen

Tim Finn “Fraction Too Much Friction” (1983)

The song is full of sax, but I initially thought the video had taken the bold step of being saxless, instead just focusing on Tim strutting his stuff while holding a ghettoblaster. But the lure of the sax was too strong. While the rest of the band might remain invisible, the video can’t resist a few shots of the saxophonist overlaid with smoky, sparkling fireworks.
NZ On Screen

DD Smash “Outlook For Thursday” (1983)

DD Smash have a lot of fun with the ridiculousness of the sax, using it as both a tool of good and evil. So powerful is the DD Smash brass section that it mortally wounds Dave Dobbyn. Later in the video, we see the gentle side of the brass, gently soothing the hottie drummer as he relaxes in the sun. Perhaps he and Sharon can compare notes on the power of sax relax.
NZ On Screen

Peking Man “Room That Echoes” (1985)

A saxophone features in this alternate video for “Room That Echoes”, but here’s the kicker: no one plays it. It just rests on its stand at the back of the room (that echoes), looking all cool while the Urlich siblings dance around it. It’s almost like some sort of pagan ritual, in which the god of ’80s cool is invoked. And for a song that is more about style over substance, that’s a perfectly logical and successful choice.
YouTube

Left, Right and Centre “Don’t Go” (1985)

When the sax is joined by another member of the brass family, it’s usually a trumpet. But not when Don McGlashan is involved. This protest song against the planned 1985 All Black tour of South Africa features Don on his euphonium and Rick Bryant on sax. In any other video, this might be enough to stand out, but the joyous heart of the “Don’t Go” video is Chris Knox with a giant mullet and denim cut-offs.
NZ On Screen

Netherworld Dancing Toys “For Today” (1985)

For a song that’s jam-packed full of brass, the “For Today” video exercises great restraint, with only a few brief shots of the brass section. Even during the big climatic build-up, the brass players are seen in the background cautiously jumping around with their instruments. The focus is wisely given to the stars of the video – Annie Crummer and the Interislander ferry.
NZ On Screen

Sonny Day “Savin’ Up” (1985)

“Savin’ Up” was a cover of a Bruce Springsteen song originally recorded by his (and Lady Gaga’s) saxophonist Clarence Clemons, so it’s no wonder that the sax player in the video gets the star treatment. Sonny Day’s line-up of backing singers (including Annie Crummer) parts and the tight-trousered saxophonist steps forward to deliver his bitchin’ solo, accentuating the piece with strategic hip thrusts. The backing singers are so impressed they give him jazz hands.
NZ On Screen

Peking Man “Good Luck to You” (1986)

This pouty, urban love letter to pre-crash Auckland begins with an amazing shot. Margaret Urlich sits in the window of the much loved cafe DKD. Below her at the cafe’s entrance, the saxophonist poses in the doorway, while playing the song’s introduction. Despite the bitter lyrics of the song, there’s something rather romantic about this shot.
YouTube

Tex Pistol “The Game of Love” (1987)

I’m not sure, but the brass on this synth-heavy song also sounds electronic, so it’s further testament to visual power of the sax that it was included in the video. The slick, minimalist video keeps it simple with Ian Morris and Callie Blood having a side-on his-n-hers brass-off (that’s a showbiz term) on the wet, black set.
NZ On Screen

Herbs “Sensitive to a Smile” (1987)

“Sensitive to a Smile” is largely a tribute to the people and environment of Ruatoria. But even the old kuias, the cheeky kids and the dreadlocked bros must step aside for a while to let the sax man have his moment of glory.
NZ On Screen

80 in the Shade “Heatwave” (1987)

This all-star pop extravaganza came together not for charity but to make an ad for L&P with a scorching cover of the Martha and the Vandellas hit. There’s sax all through it, but the saxophonist appears just once near the end. I suspect this is partly because sax was become a bit uncool, and partly because the sax player wasn’t anyone famous, so they drafted in a model to play the part.
YouTube

When the Cat’s Away “Melting Pot” (1988)

By the late ’80s, the pop sax was on its last legs, with the instrument instead lurking in the background, underscoring the other instruments. But the visual lure of sax was still strong. Near the end of the video, the Cats are seen with three saxophones and two trumpets, showing a much bigger brass sound than what is actually heard. They’re clearly having a ball mucking around with the instruments, which makes me wonder what it would have sounded like during the video shoot.
NZ On Screen

Dave Dobbyn “Love You Like I Should” (1988)

Margaret Urlich makes yet another appearance, this time shimmying around Dave Dobbyn in a midriff exposing bolero jacket. But lurking in the background behind Marg and Dave are two sax dudes, playing the bass honks on cue. They are given a couple of shots early on, but the video’s focus is on Urlich and Dobbyn’s folk dancing.
NZ On Screen

Holidaymakers “Sweet Lovers” (1988)

By the time I came to watch this video, I’d developed an instinct for sax spotting. I didn’t remember there being a saxophonist in this video, but something told me otherwise. And there it was – less than a minute before the song’s end, the fellow who had previously been shaking some maracas suddenly appears with a sax and squeezes out some barely audible notes. By this stage it seems like the sax was well on its way out, being kept in only for its strong visual appeal.
NZ On Screen

Maybe the sax was part of the bright, exciting, affluent part of the ’80s that started to wither with the 1987 stockmarket crash. It’s not so economical to have a band member who spends a lot of the time standing around, swaying from side to side, waiting for his few seconds of glory. The economical grunge era had no room for such excesses.

The sax didn’t totally die out, but rather than being the cool thing that everyone did, it was left to acts who understood the power of the sax and could harness its power. It lived on in the kids of the ’80s who grew up immersed in the sax pop. Acts like the effervescent Supergroove, jazz master Nathan Haines, and genre mixers Fat Freddys Drop all found a place for sax.

So while the full-on sax solo may have tooted its last toot, that bold brass instrument will always have a place in the world of New Zealand pop. *Honk*

National Bank building, Wainuiomata, Lower Hutt. Winder, Duncan, 1919-1970 :Architectural photographs. Ref: DW-3001-F. Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. http://natlib.govt.nz/records/23119809

Spot the difference

1. The entrance has been moved. Instead of a bold corner opening, the door has been shuffled around the corner. I suspect the move happened to make the bank accessible for oldies, people with disabilities and parents with prams – none of which would have been a huge concern for a bank in the 1960s. I’ve seen Mad Men. I know how things were.

2. But all the young mums, seniors and disabled shoppers could have got inside Diana’s Coffee Lounge, which appears to have previously taken up two-fifths of the building before being kicked out to make the new street-level entrance. It looks like a proper old fashioned coffee lounge, complete with net curtains to give the diner a bit of privacy. I mean, you don’t want people to look at you when you’re trying to enjoy your ham sandwich and filter coffee. I bet it also had racks to slide your tray along and those flip compartments with the sandwiches in them.

3. The “National Bank” sign on the building is gone. This was probably removed at some point because it didn’t fit with the current branding of the bank. But if you look at the bank’s name on the awning signs, written in a jaunty script, that didn’t match the name on the building either. It was just a building name – an appropriate building name. But if the National Bank hadn’t removed it, the ANZ would have been up there with a crowbar soon enough.

4. In 1967 the bank was on the corner of a gravelly street with nothing much happening. Today the bank is on the corner of a pedestrian street that’s part of the Wainuiomata Shopping Centre and slightly more is happening. Whereas the original shops were an emulation of an ordinary high street, eventually the call of the mall was heard and the next expansion was a great big enclosed mall. It has a ‘W’ shaped awning because it is in Wainuiomata.

5. Next door is Eddy and Gray Furnishings Ltd, no doubt providing giant brown furniture for the postwar young families making Wainuiomata their home. It’s now gone but the name lives on as Eddy’s On Queen Street Bar and Cafe. Well, that’s a substitute for Diana’s Coffee Lounge. I bet they do a good nachos.