29 minute read
Features
Chase Woods, a young emerging artist from Palmerston North, is someone that should be in everybody’s sightline right now.
With an upcoming EP release on the horizon, Chase’s music takes you on an auto-biographical journey of a young boy’s life growing up amongst hardships in Palmerston North. His music masters the duality between singing and rapping through a unique blend of exciting, homegrown sounds. It is the harmonisation of these skills that provides a fresh and innovative sound for listeners and the Aotearoa music scene, pulling together a diverse portfolio of music that draws from his own experiences, while still finding strong influences from different sounds.
The upcoming EP, titled Terrace End Tapes, should be perceived as a collection of stories that take you on a journey depicting the life of Chase Woods from start to finish. Similar to indulging in your favourite Netflix series, each track will plummet you further into the depths of Chase’s life, allowing you to unpack more about the inner workings of the young artist.
Chase grew up with his older brother Tahu and his dad in what he describes to me as similar to a flatting experience. There were rules, although Chase notes they were very loose, meaning the boys had pretty much free reign of their teenage years.
There were often times when the family had no power, or no hot water, or the boys were chased by police dogs down the streets of Palmerston North. Although through Chase’s charisma and humour, he effortlessly shines a celebratory lens on his past and implores listeners to seek out positivity in any situation.
The single, Silent Nights, as well as the wider EP, reflects a turbulent upbringing in Palmerston North that connects to wide ranging audiences across Aotearoa who have experienced similar hardships or are familiar with the small-town experience.
Many can relate to the feeling of wanting to escape the small town they were raised in. This was true for Chase, who acknowledges the feelings of resentment he held towards his hometown.
“I told myself I was never going to get inspiration from this place,” he explains.
Silent Nights, as well as Terrace End Tapes, tries to navigate these feelings by shining light onto what may be seen as negative experiences and exemplifies an ability to remain positive in the face of adversity.
Chase has been able to hone into his own experiences as a young Māori boy growing up in Palmy and use his music as a way to tell his personal story. Allowing himself to view his hometown, and his upbringing more generally, through a positive lens has opened up a doorway to his new music and lyricism that drops you into the memories, past and present, of Chase Woods.
“Silent Nights is about celebrating the struggles and putting it into a more celebratory light rather than talking down on it,” explains Chase.
that brushes away these often-heavy stories with a causal sense of humour. He laughs while telling me the different meanings behind the lyrics, and the further scenes in his new music video.
As Silent Nights is the first instalment of the upcoming EP, this is our first proper look into Chase Woods and the story behind his music.
The Silent Nights music video, directed and shot by friends Joshua Crosland and Nathan Blundell, assisted by Jamie Leith and Willson Kim, takes us back to Chase’s childhood in Palmy.
The music video opens by seeing Chase’s nephew play his younger self, biking through the tree-laden streets of Palmerston North and visiting his local childhood dairy.
This gives the video its warm nostalgic feeling, and adds a deeper narrative by connecting the music to the locations from Chase’s life that are reflected in his song writing.
The dairy scene speaks to the integral landmark that the Palmerston North Rangiora Dairy was for Chase and his whānau. Chase tells me the owners, Jase and Tina, knew them fondly and gave the family a tab that was paid, or not paid, at the end of each month.
Chase also describes the candlelight scene, explaining it was based on a real experience of coming home from a tangi in Taranaki to no power.
While away at the tangi, Chase says they had a memorable week of treating themselves – buying takeaways along with feeds of hangi and boil-up at the marae. He remembers a slight questioning look shared between Tahu and himself at the shop, but too focused on the extra lollies their dad said yes to, they pushed their inquisitive thoughts to the back of their minds.
As they arrived home from the marae, Chase and Tahu attempted to watch TV but became quickly aware that nothing would turn on. Chase laughs as he tells me he now knows where the extra money for the treats came from. “They all have different settings and scenes, and there’s a place in Palmy that that song relates to,” Chase tells me.
That wasn’t the only time Chase’s whānau experienced having no power. Chase says his dad had an eclectic candleholder collection scattered across their family home for this very reason.
“All the scenes in the video are real life scenes that we all went through,” explains Chase.
Each song tells a story of a time or place in Chase’s life. Each song is unique and truthful, making effort to focus on celebrating every moment. “That’s what I think the cool thing about it is. You have to wait and at the end you see why I am how I am and also how I grew up… which is how a lot of kids grow up, especially in my generation around Palmy.”
It is also evident that Chase’s music is supported by a hard-working team of multi-faceted, talented creatives and friends wanting to see him succeed.
A major hope for Chase is that his music and the wider message of his songs are able reach audiences and young people who can relate and see themselves within the work he puts out.
Role models have the ability to serve as prophecies for kids to imagine who they could potentially become. This is especially important for kids experiencing hardship, in which seeing themselves being articulated and represented across music and the arts can be incredibly meaningful.
This is important for Chase, who acknowledges that many kids in Aotearoa grow up just like he did.
“It’s not special. It’s just how it was,” he says. “I don’t talk about it to flex on how hard my life was and that’s why I try not to dwell on it.”
Young kids therefore are a pivotal audience for the upcoming Terrace End Tapes, who may be able to find themselves reflected within the music.
“I want kids to hear it. It’s for kids who think they’re struggling and think that there’s no way out.”
“That’s my dream and that’s the hope for the music – for someone else to just relate to it.”
Through extending an invitation to look deeper into his own life, listeners will hopefully find these connections to their own lived experience within Chase’s music.
“Each song talks about a time in my life from start to finish,” explains Chase.
The team, consisting of producer/videographer Joshua Crosland, photographer Jamie Leith, videographer/ manager Nathan Blundell, and marketing lead/manager Willson Kim, are essential to the production of everything Chase Woods. He describes the team as a dream come true.
He acknowledges the importance of finding people that share a genuine passion and drive for the music and the wider work that goes into being an artist. While these boys are all close friends, they all share a deep passion for the arts and are creative in their own right which fuels the greatness of the work they create.
“You can’t force people to do things,” explains Chase. “You might be passionate about the music but if you’re not passionate about taking photos or videoing then it’s not going to work and it’s not fair for me to put pressure onto people.” It is therefore clear that this team and their friendships mean a lot to Chase and contributes heavily to the quality of his work.
“If I ever dog the boys, I’d quit music,” Chase tells me outright.
“I don’t ever want that connection to go away – it’s too valuable to me. I couldn’t do any of this without them.”
Passion, drive and determination is what makes a good team and that’s exactly what Chase has in his corner. It’s apparent that these boys share broad creative talents, and all want to see each other succeed in their respective domains. It’s a relationship that is far and few in a world where people tend to focus on individual gain and competition.
The whole team works together to build each other up and collectively see each other succeed. Chase says this has been essential for him and sees this as the way friendships should be.
“I couldn’t just have friends that just want to do the same thing,” says Chase. “They push me to be a better man.”
It’s pretty clear that we can only expect bigger and better things to come from Chase and the wider team as they continue to explore more facets of Chase’s musical identity.
When asked what lies in the future for the rest of 2022, Chase says hopefully a lot more performing, and learning will come from this year.
“I don’t think I’ve quite found my sound yet,” he says. “A lot of the stuff I’m doing now is just putting out feelers.”
Readers and listeners alike can therefore be excited to see what comes from the emerging young artist and prepare themselves for the upcoming release of Silent Nights and the wider EP, Terrace End Tapes.
Silent Nights coming out early August 2022.
Singing shows best to worst (but they’re all kinda shit)
I have a love-hate relationship with singing shows. While I’m fully aware they’re another trashy reality TV show disguised by talented, hopeful individuals, singing shows have continued to hold tight grip over my teenage and young-adult years. I can date back my misguided infatuation to 2009, when Stan Walker was crowned the winner of Australian Idol’s final season. Little did I know, but this moment would mold my future - for the worse. In the early days of the singing show genre, the concept was fairly simple: judges listened to people sing, and gave them feedback. This ranged from universal praise to the scathing criticisms made famous by Simon Cowell, the Gordon Ramsey of this particular realm. Thanks to the resounding success of American Idol, we were eventually subjected to various iterations of this formula, whether it involved a panel that couldn’t see who was singing until they pressed a button to turn their magic throne around, or having celebrities dressed up in costumes while belting out tunes and letting less famous celebrities try to guess the identity of the vocalist in disguise.
I’ve spent years trying to figure out why I, and the general public, have such a fascination with watching people sing. And while this question remains unsolved, I’ve instead refocused my attention to dissecting where each show fits on the ladder of entertainment. Many of these atrocities have quickly come and gone over the years but plenty of them are still going strong, and as a result, I decided to rank the biggest ones that remain from best to worst.
The premise of The Voice essentially boils down to the belief that ugly people shouldn’t be allowed to be famous singers. Yes, this may be true in an industry of aesthetics, The Voice gives the average joe a chance to perform without the weight of societal pressures…. But, once the chairs have been turned, and the rest of the competition unfolds, contestants are once again placed back into the blender of societal standards. Therefore, the show sadly loses steam and becomes another version of American Idol. The rest of the season frankly sucks, there’s little innovation season to season, and the performances never seem to match the breathtaking auditions.
Now, you may be surprised to see The Voice take top spot on this list after my scathing criticism, but for me it was a no brainer. The Voice auditions are the pinnacle of ALL reality TV. I’ve watched THOUSANDS of hours of Voice auditions. Not just the U.S version either. France, Mongolia, Netherlands, Australia, Brazil and many many more. Each country has its designated YouTube channel full with hundreds of auditions. Nothing can match the excitement of binging an entire season’s audition, waiting to find the next big thing.
Plus, it's always fun seeing the judges' disappointment when they turn around and the contestant is ugly.
2. American Idol
As I mentioned, we largely have American Idol to blame for all of this, as it’s managed to pump out 20 seasons since the first episode aired in 2002 and launched the career of Kelly Clarkson. Sadly, it has also resulted in a myriad of scandals, and slowly the focus of the show has shifted from the intended singing, to the back-stage drama, tacky judges and soppy backstories.
To its credit, American Idol has produced a few winners who eventually became bonafide sensations. While it appeared it has lost its magic after being canceled by Fox decided to let it die in 2016 only for ABC to resurrect it in 2018 as a shell of its former sell. It might’ve been a no for me, dawg, but in the end, it’s much more of a “yes” than the rest of the shows to follow.
3. Got Talent
Got Talent is more than just a singing competition and I initially debated whether or not it should qualify for this list in the first place, as you have to be kind of a moron to think that being able to sing can compete with magicians, jugglers, or a guy who swallows and then regurgitates everything from light bulbs to goldfish to billiard balls.
While Got talent has proven to be crackup at the best of times, it does tend to lack actual talent in the singing department. Most serious(ish) singers tend to choose the more conventional titles to show off their vocals, and Got Talent is left with outrageous sob-stories, and 500+ child singers.
I also don’t like Howie. Fuck Howie.
4. The Masked Singer
The Masked Singer is an international import from South Korea that asks a simple question: what happens when you take some semi-famous people, dress them up in costumes, and have them anonymously show off their vocal pipes in front of a panel of less famous people?
If you answered “Some garbage television,” you absolutely nailed it!
Although the singing is trash, I still find myself watching the occasional performance when it crosses my Tiktok for you page.
This is yet another show that baffles me, as I can’t fathom why people would devote time to watching an entire season speculating if a guy in an egg suit is Justin Bieber only to discover it was Nick Lachey the entire time.
That’s truly electrifying television if I’ve ever seen it.
5. Lip-sync Battle
Now, this may be a slightly controversial pick, as Lip Sync Battle has many of the elements of a traditional singing competition without any of the, you know, singing.
Lip Sync Battle is basically a TikTok video with a production budget that seems impossible to justify. For some reason, society has reached a point where having the ability to pretend to sing is considered a talent even though there are plenty of others that are arguably more difficult to master but don’t get nearly enough praise, like:
• Shadow Puppets • Ventriloquism • Stamp Collecting • Regular Puppets • That “Invisible Box Trick” That Mimes Do • Knot-Tying • Air Guitaring • Impressionists
There are plenty of others I could add to that list but I think it’s a pretty solid collection.
6. Any New Zealand spin-off
In dead last, and rightfully so, is any New Zealand version of mainstream singing shows. Not very patriotic of me, I know, but it’s a fact that Aotearoa does not do talent TV well. Each show is a tacky shell of its richer country counterparts. We’ve had a few memorable moments. You might remember in 2015 Willy Moon and Natalia Kills outburst at contestant Joe Irvine, for appearing to rip off Moon’s image. Kills accused Irvine of copying her husband "from the hair to the suit", and said he was a "laughing stock" and made her "sick". The couple was promptly sacked from the show and memed by viewers across the globe.
Other than seething snippets of drama, and the legend Beau Monga, New Zealand singing shows haven’t produced more than a few garage singers, and cringe moments. If I wanted to listen to aunties singing, I would simply go to a whānau piss-up.
Tiktok taking over Tiktok taking over
Lily Petrovich (she/they) Illustrated by @geegebee
When Tik Tok first came out as Music.ly in 2014, no one was prepared for the influence the app would have on the music industry. But here we are, eight years later with Tik Tok having the utmost pull on what music is going viral. This of course has been great for smaller artists, who are able to blow up with little to no platform.
Traditionally, signing with a record label was a given.
With the rise of the internet came the opportunity for music to be promoted to a wider audience, where the artist would create the music and the label would take care of the business and promotion. But, that has changed. Before talking about Tik Tok itself, looking at the influence of the internet as a whole can help us to fully understand where Tik Tok’s rise has come from, and what factors have already changed the industry.
Seems like a basic story, the internet came around, we developed international connections where people could share their music from anywhere in the world. Instead of paying for advertising in radio, magazines, posters or billboards, artists could share their music on social media. It worked; it brought us Shawn Mendes,
Justin Bieber, Skrillex, The Weeknd, Arctic Monkeys, the list goes on.
Back then, and still largely now, the way music deals would work is that a record label would approach an artist and, in exchange for the full rights of any music released by them, the label would pay an advance and give them somewhere around 15% of the money earned from their music (i.e., Spotify streams).
This advance typically can range from $50k-$350k, which sounds great as artists need money to live and invest in their music. The catch-22 is that this money, as an advance, is essentially a loan. Which yeah, if an artist absolutely blows up, the advance is something you can cover. But, (because there’s always a but), paying it back can be a struggle. Now is a good time to remember that artists were typically making only around 15% of profits from their music. This money would then go back to the very label which took the other 85%.
By this point we’re all pretty aware of the struggle's artists face with record labels, some examples of famous battles between label and artist would be Ke$ha and Taylor Swift. These musicians are only two of the
many who have been taken for granted by labels set up to help them thrive, that have instead fallen prey to exploitation.
Things, however, have begun to change. Every time the internet has some new significant addition or development, things tend to speed up. We all saw the effects of Tik Tok’s quick video structure, from ‘microtrends’ lasting days, to the speed of virality, to what the app has done to any user's attention-span: everything is consumed at a rapid pace so much more quickly than pre-internet times where “trends” would last years.
Today, artists are blowing-up overnight. Someone can release a snippet of an audio and if people like it, they will listen. Unlike on any other music app, where we see how many views/listens an artist has, generally with Tik Tok music unless you look for it, you don’t see how popular an audio is, we aren’t biased against small artists because we don’t really know where the clips of music are coming from. Short snippets mean we get to listen to the catchy bits, but not like a radio where you’re stuck listening to songs you’ve never heard of. Instead, the song grows on us slowly, until we go outside the app to listen.
Putting music on Tik Tok works for new artists, and
it works really well. Olivia Rodrigo and PinkPantheress are two of the biggest examples of artists whose fame began at Tik Tok, but there are so many others.
Today, independent artists hold a noticeable share of the music industry. While record labels still hold the large majority, it doesn’t change that competition is growing. With unlimited access to potential artists, anyone can upload their music, which means more people are doing so. Audience attention however, isn’t without limits. Tik Tok blew up around the time when Covid-19 was holding back artists from touring, which was many artists' main revenue stream. Essentially since 2020, record labels have grown a hunger for new and upcoming artists. Labels are now getting into ‘bidding wars’, fighting to get artists just as they are blowing up. This means artists are getting better deals such as partnerships offering a 50/50 split, or record labels switching exclusive rights to artists' work, to a licence lasting 1215 years. This is a significant change, and certainly a
shift for the better, but is it enough?
Many artists still don’t think it’s good enough, and there have been growing movements of ‘bedroom pop’ and
independently released music. The thing that holds more artists back are the crazy deals that these labels have with our good friend, Spotify.
Spotify has a ridiculous influence on music today which is a whole other rabbit-hole but overall, the algorithm dictates who is promoted, from personal ‘discover weekly’ playlists, public playlists with thousands of followers, ads for those with Spotify Free, and constant recommendations. It is important to consider the fact that Spotify was designed for record labels, which means working with it as a solo artist definitely adds some difficulties.
The music industry is in a shambles. Whether these deals are an absolute rip-off is up to the individual. While giving artists the chance to focus on their art itself, labels can also throw artists into an endless cycle of working and producing until burning out. It’s a very tricky thing; seeing how much attention we pay to music, we should also start to focus on how these labels work and how they treat the artists we idolise so heavily.
Spinning The Black Circle
“Oh yeah well I have the The Smiths picture disc so eat my shorts” – every alt kid in high school ever.
Aiden Wilson (he/him) Illustrated by Marie Bailey (she/her)
If you’re a regular to my articles, then I’m assuming you probably envision me as some snobby musician type who’s really into vinyl “cause it just sounds better.”
AND YOU’D BE GOD-DIDDLY-DAMN RIGHT!
No medium has changed formats over the decades as quickly or drastically as music. I guess you could argue film, but for the sake of this we’re gonna ignore it, kay?
Vinyl, 8-Track, cassette, CD and of course our beloved digital streaming services. In less than one hundred years we went from the most popular format being a rubber disc that would melt in the sun, to an application in a device that fits in our pocket.
And yet, we have regressed!
Within the last decade, the resurgence in vinyl and cassette has been astounding. CD has managed to stick round, never really dying out but never being the giant it once was, but vinyl has come back kicking and screaming.
And why is that?
Why do so many of us have nostalgia for a format we were never around for?
Are we just alt losers who think we’re so deep and meaningful cause our copy of Ohms is on a gold vinyl disc? (My copy is on a gold disc, suck it.)
Do we TRULY believe that it sounds better?
Are we trying to evade the gaze of megacorps who wanna steal our data, know everything we are listening to at all hours and then shame us with their “spotify wrapped”, which reveals to you and your friends that maybe you like Korn a little tooooo much and at one point it was ironic but now you’re in too deep and can imitate the song Twist perfectly?
My first ever vinyl was a copy of Magical Mystery Tour by the Beatles. I’ll never forget the day I got it, starting my collection officially. You’d think it would be for sentimental reasons that I wouldn’t forget it, but it’s mostly that the night I first listened to it my mum made fun of my friends and I for the way we handled it. The idea of her son and his mates being so overly cautious and gentle with a vinyl record, something she grew up with, was hilarious. To her its just a vinyl, but to sixteen-year-old kids in 2016 it was a mystical artifact from before anyone had heard of a Spotify, iTunes or YouTube to MP3. Watching that archaic thing spin right round baby right round, like a record baby, right round round round was… mesmerizing.
That first listen set a trend for myself, one that I’ve found hard to shake, that being handling my records with nothing but painfully gentle care.
Removal from the case, to setting down on the turntable, all the way back to putting it away, it’s all a grueling experience of trying not to touch anything that could scratch the disc or get any grubby fingerprints on the etchings. It’s almost ritualistic, and for that reason I do not listen to vinyl as often as I would like. Streaming services might lose the physical aspects of music, but they also lose the whole experience of setting up an album. Good cause it means no spooky scary “will I damage my record from using it this one time”, bad cause no dope packaging.
What I’m trying to get at is this: vinyl is fun but if you scratch that thing then that’s forty to eighty bucks down the drain right then and there. As a student who is very much a material gorl, collecting physical media is something I thoroughly enjoy, and knowing that one misplaced fingerprint or accidental dropping of a slipcase could destroy a record gives me so much anxiety that vinyl has become a purely collectors medium rather than a listening one for me.
Look at me perpetuating the vinyl snob stereotype out here, Mr “I only collect it”.
But to be honest, in the age of streaming why would we listen to anything other than Spotify? The only reasons I can think of are sound quality and novelty of having to do a side change. But, once again to be honest does it really sound better? We (people who listen to vinyl) all claim that it does, but are we just saying that as a superiority thing or does it genuinely sound better? Pure convenience in cost and timesaving is starting to leave physical music by the wayside. What’s the point in going to a store and buying an album, or shipping it to your home when you could simply load up a music app and stream it directly to a speaker? Long as your internet is stable, that’s uninterrupted music at the push of a button. And for only a few bucks a month you can download what you listen to, having hundreds of albums at your fingertips for the price of a pie and coke, as opposed to a single disc with an hour of music spanning a flip from A to B.
But I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again – vinyl is an experience that you can’t get with digital downloads and streaming! There’s so much novelty in the amount of care, the absolute wankery of getting a disc out like a snobby artiste type, dropping a needle down onto it and then prattling off about how “superior the quality is”.
In conclusion, vinyl and basically any physical music media turns us listeners into pretentious hipsters.
And the day Spotify gains the ability to do that, I’ll cook and eat my original pressing of Plastic Surgery Disasters by Dead Kennedys, with The Wall by Pink Floyd for dessert.
AGES AND STAGES
How music changes with us.
Elena McIntrye-Reet (she/her)
Similar to rugby or football club loyalty, some people will die on the hill that their favourite band is the best band of all time, or that they're a true original fan, or that Nickelback is actually worth listening to. The days of tumblr and the rise of social media mean that a lot of peoples identity changes with their music taste. For example, the pipeline of directioner to Harry Styles Stan is one that should be studied for years to come.
As soon as I got my first iPod shuffle I was loading it up with all the songs that I used to listen to on CDs in my Dads car. I'd clip that little fucker to
my school bag and listen to Kenny Rogers for
my whole walk to school. When I got older and discovered the magical world of Limewire (which permanently damaged my Dad's computer), I got the chance to explore my music taste more and got really into Ke$ha. The point is, music is a constant in a lot of our lives and you we tie phases in our lives to songs or artists, core memory type of shit.
The first thing to dive into, has to be the classic 'name five Nirvana songs if you're wearing
a Nirvana t-shirt from JayJays. People got SO defensive about rock bands they probably barely listened to themselves, but for some reason you had to go through an interrogation to prove you were worthy of wearing a cheap t-shirt. People were obsessed with gate-keeping the music their parents listened to and it was so confusing. If you actually could name five songs, they'd claim you were a Bandwagon fan, you literally couldn't win! It's worth noting, if you were a girl you had to work a lot harder to make yourself seem like a legitimate fan of anything. This just in: girls are ridiculed
for their interests constantly.
This brings me to the next phase of life that's tied to music taste: The boyband/Justin Bieber era. It was the best of times and the worst of times; the height of YouTube covers and when X Factor was in its hay day. I had a friend who had a legitimate life size poster of Justin Bieber on her wall. The poster had a lipstick mark on it and she swore it came like that, but I didn't believe her for a second. Many
of us covered our walls in A4 cutouts from
Crème and Girlfriend magazines. To be a fan of pop music meant dealing with constant ridicule about what 'real music' is. Hot take: if you have fun listening to it and it makes you happy then it's probably real music. Having you own opinion on
music isn't a bad thing, personally I think drum and bass is fucking awful and I know that's an opinion that will get RnV fanboys very upset.
The hate of pop music because it fun and light made no sense. My tomboy self was honestly more scared about coming out as a directioner than I was about liking girls, which is ridiculous.
When IPods became a thing of the past, and we couldn't use Itube to stream songs, Spotify was the saving grace. I'm a firm believer that if you want to know someone's heart and soul all you need to do is look at their Spotify playlists. The ability to curate different playlists depending on your mood and search up any song or artist whenever you want changed the way we interact with music. You get exposed to so many more artists and genres, so your music taste can properly develop on its own. I'm an absolute slut for a Discover Weekly,
it feels like a little present just for me every
Monday. Spotify has made our music tastes more diverse and kind of gives you a sense of community with your friends. Making someone a Spotify playlist is the most wholesome thing you can possibly do. Despite the can of worms streaming services open it terms of the treatment of artists - it also makes music a much more open experience.
I honestly don't even want to think about listening to Now That's What I Call Music CDs on my portable boombox, or using YouTube to
MP3 downloaders. The absolute trauma of it all!
People sometimes look back at the music they used to enjoy and cringe, which I think is a habit that we as a society need to stop. There are
exceptions to this rule of course, if you feel proud of being a Chris Brown fan then you
should reconsider your life choices. Flip the switch and instead of feeling embarrassed you should think about all the memories you associate with specific phases of your music taste. For
