God save The Clean

When great sounds great

Every morning I walk down the hallway and see the picture of The Clean staring back at me.

It is not a ‘picture’ per se, but a framed album of the original Boodle Boodle Boodle EP.

And smiling in a bathtub (beautifully drawn by the legendary Chris Knox) is Hamish Kilgour, sitting next to his brother David, and opposite Bob Scott.

Today it was confirmed that the body of the musician was found on Monday night, and his death has been referred to the coroner.

He was 65.

This is my tribute.

In the days before the internet, finding your way around popular culture was often by word of mouth (literally your big brother) or other trusted sources such as your favourite magazine (Rip It Up!) or local record store (The Beat!)

It was at the latter where I picked up, on tape, Pink Flying Saucers Over the Southern Alps.

I played the shit out of that album and can still recite the track listings from The Chills’ Heavenly Pop Hit to Skeptics’ Sheen of Gold.

One of the best tracks belongs to The Clean and Draw(in)g to a W(h)ole.

I’d never watched the video until today. The lookout a few hundred metres from my house features in the opening shot.

One of the high points for me, being a teenager growing up in Invercargill, was just how many of these bands were from the deep south, albeit from the bright lights of Dunedin.

Dunedin appeared to be some mythical and magical place where people made music that not only sounded good, but it made you feel good.

I largely live here because of that connection from my teenage years.

I remember a school bus trip to check out university colleges, but instead of doing the studious things my mate Phil and I bunked off to go to Records Records, on Stuart St.

Phil recalls buying The Bats (featuring Bob Scott of the The Clean), while I bought The Verlaines. Again, on tape.

I later bought these albums on CD, then digitally (thanks for nothing iTunes!), and on vinyl - where I could.

I was now a Flying Nun nerd, particularly anything released with a Dunedin connection.

I’ve mentioned it before, but finding the likes of The Clean in a ‘Dunedin section’ at a record store in Copenhagen, Denmark, next to the likes of a ‘Seattle’, still blows me away.

Just last week I was given a copy (thanks Ana!) of Needles and Plastic Flying Nun Records, 1981-1988, which features Hamish Kilgour on the cover.

It is a great read.

I remember being a student living in Dunedin when Rip It Up gave a free copy of some CDs to new subscribers.

I chose The Clean, and promptly fell in love.

It wasn’t their best album, but better than almost any other band’s greatest hits.

I listened to the album so much that I noticed on some tracks you could hear the crackle of firewood (macrocarpa, I believe) in the background.

It also has my favourite track by The Clean - Too Much Violence - and the splendid 90s era video features Hamish from out behind the drum kit.

It seems that the days are all wasted
And nighttime seems better for us
But this lifetime will soon quite be over
And we'll wonder what was the fuss

You've got too much violence in your eyes
You've got too much violence in your life

It was also a source of amazement to me just how many of my favourite American acts would reference Dunedin bands, and particularly The Clean.

I remember that famous quote, attributed to Brian Eno, which said: ‘The Velvet Underground didn't sell many records, but everyone who bought one went out and started a band.’

Well, The Clean was our Velvet Underground, and the bands which name-checked them are as numerous as they are amazing: Pavement, Superchuck, Guided By Voices, Yo La Tengo, and Sonic Youth.

I have been to gigs involving almost of those bands above, but never saw The Clean live.

I always assumed I would, but it never happened. And now it won’t.

As far as I can tell they last played Dunedin in around 2014. You can watch an amazing video of Point That Thing Somewhere Else, which also features original member, the late Peter Gutteridge. If you watch to the end, you will see Hamish pounding the shit out of the drums.

I did see them on stage at a very glitzy APRA Silver Scroll Awards at the Dunedin Town Hall on September 28, 2017.

The musical outsiders were inducted into the New Zealand Music Hall of Fame, joining the likes of Dave Dobbyn and Herbs.

But I’m reminded of some excellent quotes from Hamish Kilgour to The Press before those awards.

“What is an award? A piece of wood, plastic or metal that says you're the best and a place in some imagined hall, is the hall a vortex, does it go into infinity? Are you remembered on a black velvet painting? I really don't know what it is. I personally don't need a pat on the back. Back in the day, The Clean were reviled, criticised and put down so I developed a pretty thick skin... in terms of recognition we already got it from the people that supported us.”

That made me wonder what Clean tracks people listen to, because the band does not even feature on an APRA list of the 100 best New Zealand songs of all time (but on that list is Zed, Stellar*, The Feelers…)

On Spotify these are the most popular tracks.

If you haven’t heard Anything Could Happen, it kind of sets the blueprint for many of their other melodic yet idiosyncratic songs.

And Tally Ho, famously recorded for about $50 (and sounding like it), features the band walking backwards around Dunedin.

I’ve heard a few of Hamish Kilgour’s other recordings, which include early Bailerspace, quite possibly the loudest band I’ve ever heard.

And here is his band, the NY-based The Mad Scene.

And this is lovely, it features Kilgour with Tiny Ruins.

If you want to read more about Hamish Kilgour and The Clean I recommend the following online articles:

Audioculture: The Clean Part One.

And Part Two.

There is also a great 2019 feature article on Hamish Kilgour from Grant Smithies. I love this quote:

‘‘I remember going to see Jeff Buckley play in this little place in New York, before he was famous. It felt like I had gone to heaven, in the company of angels. That's what you want when you play. You want it to be as real as it can be."

Vale Hamish. And thanks for the memories and the music.

In other sad news, I note that long-serving Dunedin police dog Gil, 10, has died, of cancer.

Here is a picture of this very good boy from the 2023 police dog calendar.

You can read more about Gil here.

Here is my Tweet of the Week:

Sue Brettingen @suejayneb

Oh no, not Hamish Kilgour. I am so sad we have lost him. I loved his music and I found out about so much other great music at his Facebook page. Here is one of my favorite memories of him, signing the back of my "Vehicle" shirt at a show in Chicago.