Chills

The Chills, another moral and artistic flagship of New Zealand “lo-fi pop,” were formed at the end of 1980 from the ashes of the Same. At the core of the old lineup—Martin Phillips, guitarist and singer (then only eighteen), his sister Rachel on organ, and bassist Jane Dodd—were added Peter Gutteridge (who had just left the Clean), also guitarist and singer, and drummer Alan Haig.

In 1982, this lineup recorded material that would appear on a series of EPs and singles (Satin Doll, Kaleidoscope World, Rolling Moon, Pink Frost), later compiled on Kaleidoscope World (Creation, 1986).

The lineup soon changed, with Frazer Batts (organ) and Terry Moore (bass) replacing Rachel Phillips and Jane Dodd, respectively. The three songs on the EP Chills (Flying Nun, 1982) defined once and for all the best qualities of their art: discreet, modest, subtle pop, light as a feather. The eponymous track, Kaleidoscope World (the highlight), has a moderately lively rhythm, slightly distorted jingle-jangle guitars, a barely whispered chorus, and an organ carousel in the background. A martial drum roll and a funereal organ propel the soft, wordless singing of Satin Doll like a wreck on the waves. Frantic Drift is an understated psychedelic ride inducing a trance effect, reminiscent of the earliest Pink Floyd.

The first single, Rolling Moon, released in December 1982, featured Rachel Phillips again on organ and Martyn Bull on drums. It is a much livelier track, almost Merseybeat, with the B-side Bite being a wild garage-rock “rave-up.” The band’s identity is most evident in the third track, Flame Thrower, an oblique melody with a constantly evolving rhythm, freely inspired by Brian Eno, Robert Wyatt, and Syd Barrett.

In May of that year, the Chills recorded Pink Frost, this time with Peter Allison on organ, though the single was not released until June 1984. On one hand, it’s an unusually gothic ballad, almost Doors-like, with a sustained rhythm and atmospheric guitar chords (“pink frost” symbolizes death); on the other, a unique instrumental, Purple Girl, mixes country and rhythm-and-blues inflections in a 1950s style reminiscent of Duane Eddy, complete with hand claps and “yakety” saxophone. Pink Frost would remain in many ways their most emblematic song.

With Alan Haig replacing Bull (who had died of leukemia) and Martin Kean replacing Moore, the single Doledrums (November 1984) is a cheerful, carefree, rhythmic melody, typical of their bittersweet humor. The B-side, Hidden Bay, is a driving Brian Eno-style nursery rhyme.

From the same sessions came the material for the EP Lost (Flying Nun, 1985). The record opens with This Is The Way, a strange reinterpretation of Bob Dylan’s Blowing In The Wind featuring Hawaiian guitar, Duane Eddy-style twang, and Doors-like organ. Then a whimsical Bonzo Dog Band-like touch emerges in the chorus of Never Never Go, with a frantic organ and guitar racing at full speed. 1950s-style vocal harmonies, revisited through a prepubescent Jonathan Richman lens, permeate Don't Even Know Her Name. The band pauses with the dreamlike Whole Weird World, wrapped in a slow-circular melody with muffled guitar and organ tolls. The EP, a masterpiece of this period, is rounded off by two pastoral tracks: Bee Bah Bee Bah Bee Boe, an elementary refrain in a folk-dance tempo with accordion, and Dream By Dream, with organ and guitar marking a melody perfect for Ian Anderson’s flute (Jethro Tull).

Terry Moore returned on bass for their catchiest single, I Love My Leather Jacket, with a light rockabilly rhythm.

Phillips then moved to London and reshuffled the lineup with Caroline Easther on drums, Justin Harwood on bass, and Andrew Todd on organ. This marked the end of the band’s prehistory and the beginning of its major period.

Brave Words (Flying Nun, 1987) was their first album, but tracks like Night Of Chill Blue, Wet Blanket, and House, mostly written years earlier and rejected from previous albums, are clearly inferior to the classic repertoire. Despite the very high level of all their early songs, it seemed the band had run out of motivation to make music.

Three years passed before Phillips and company released their second album, Submarine Bells (Slash, 1990), recorded with Jimmy Stephenson on drums. Heavenly Pop Hit is exactly what the title suggests. The baroque pop of the late Beach Boys permeates Singing In My Sleep and Don't Be-Memory. Less convincing when attempting Cat Stevens-style wisdom in Tied Up In Chain, Phillips nevertheless has a vocal style midway between Lou Reed and Ian Curtis, allowing atmospheric excursions in Past Past Part Fiction and Efflorescence And Deliquesce. From this elaborate craft emerges the bucolic and Renaissance blend of Dead Web and the title track (two arranging masterpieces by Todd). The imprint of REM and Buzzcocks is evident on the rockier tracks, Oncoming Day (written years earlier) and Familiarity Breeds Contempt (a sort of paraphrase of REM’s The End Of The World). This album was the first from New Zealand to be widely distributed worldwide and effectively marked the official boom.

Soft Bomb (Slash, 1992), recorded in the USA with an American lineup, emphasizes the kinship with 1980s folk-pop (not just REM, but also Shoes and DB’s) and the debts to pop tradition (the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds and Big Star’s Sister Lovers). Carefree choruses abound, from Ocean Ocean (with drums and guitar truly evoking waves) to Double Summer (whose organ and guitar radiate blinding sunlight), but equally striking are Phillips’ “ambiguous” melodies, residing in inverted staves, from Soft Bomb to The Male Monster From The Id. Even more impressive is his genius expressed in the bucolic cadences of So Long (featuring one of the most intricate arrangements) and Halo Fading. Less catchy but equally intelligent are the numerous stylistic digressions: the funereal blues of Strange Case, the “noir” atmosphere of Entertainer, and the Prokofiev-style symphonic poem of Water Wolves (arranged by Van Dyke Parks). The production is indeed spectacular. Not only is the sound clear and crystalline, but many songs were “crafted” in the studio by layering acoustic instruments and orchestral echoes. Yet from such refined polyphony emerges primarily a sense of grim solitude, deep unhappiness, and inevitable defeat.

Over the years, Phillips’ musical art has lost the naďve sense of innocence and wonder of his early days, but has gained the depth of an intense reflection on the human condition. A cultured, philosophical songwriter, an unsurpassed melodist, endowed with tact and taste, at the same time an impressionist painter and romantic poet, Phillips has few equals in the rock of his time.

Private recordings of Martin Phillips (1989–1995) were released on Sketch Book (Flying Nun, 2000).

In 1994, Phillips formed the Pop Art Toasters, but the Chills returned with Sunburnt (Flying Nun, 1996), a collection of somewhat predictable melodies and slightly pretentious lyrics.