Mike Chunn - Stranger Than Fiction: The Life and Times of Split Enz

Stranger Than Fiction

The Life and Times of Split Enz

By Mike Chunn

Published by Hurricane Press

PO Box 568, Cambridge, New Zealand 3450

www.hurricane-press.co.nz

ISBN 978-0-9922556-3-3

Cover image: Original painting Phil Judd

Manuscript copyright 2013 Mike Chunn

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers and copyright holders.

1. Beginning of the Enz

I KNOW now I must leave Split Enz. The worst part will be telling the others. How will I tell them? And when?

Not tonight. Not when were playing the last show of our American tour. Its here in Chicago, a frozen, drenched city. The sign outside the club where we will play says Spilt Enz.

There was talk of cancelling the gig as so few tickets had sold. A night off wouldnt have been so bad. But it feels right that I know when Im on stage for the last time in the US of A with my band of merry pranksters.

Standing here on the shores of Lake Michigan with the city at my back, Im lost in fleeting memories of the band. Its been four years since we performed in front of an audience for the first time. And its been almost as long since we were first booed off a stage, beneath a shower of abuse.

Phil Judd must be thinking about this last show of the American tour too. He has already resigned; he has left the band. Tonight is his last show. Hell be relieved. I suspect we will have similar thoughts Reflections. On this tour, hes taken to walking off stage during sets, leaving the rest of us to hop, skip and jump around in our evolution of zany and wacky stagecraft. There has been drama of almost melodramatic proportions. Phil punched Tim. In the green room dressing room? locker room? locked-up-room in the state of Georgia. That was one for the books. This book.

Tim has already made plans. Hes off to Baltimore to stay at his uncles house with Eddie Rayner at his side. He knows what he has to do. Theyll write songs together, mixing the new chemistry to replace the Judd-Finn partnership. Or will that now be remembered as Finn-Judd?

I look out over Lake Michigan some more. Canada lies beyond the horizon. I wont ever get there. Will Split Enz ever get there? It was always part of the plan, our plan to conquer the world.

I face north. In the days of long hair and beards Tim and I used to face north on the Parnell Road in Auckland. We would buy Melody Maker magazines from the local stationer. Tim would peruse the articles on the new emerging acts planning one day to grace those pages as one of them. I would search the classified ads, dreaming of owning a cool bass guitar. We faced north because thats where England lay. The premier destination. Today I face north and the North Pole looks back.

I turn and face east. Europe is over there. The streets of London and the M1 and Liverpool and Bristol and Newcastle and the smog of cities and the fog of tired minds. Split Enz in a van rolling on through the night.

I look to the south-west. The United States lies there with its giant capability to grind you down and gently destroy you. It rolls in interminably from either side of Highway 61 like a turning tide. Were all exhausted, and trying to cope in our own ways, after weeks of stepping out at Americas clubs and concert halls by night and sleepwalking through radio station visits and record company promotions by day.

Weve endured a look-a-like contest, being booked as a support act for a comedian and played several shows to audiences that barely outnumbered us.

In Atlanta, we walked onstage to face an audience of two.

Tim called out: Are you having a good time?

Silence.

Well, we are screamed Tim, and majority rule!

Some nights we won. Those were the shows where the audience could see past the weird hairstyles, make-up and brightly-coloured suits and consider there might be alternatives, after all, to Fleetwood Mac and Al Stewart.

The breeze off the lake makes me shiver and brings my thoughts back to the present. I will complete my circle.

I turn to the south. New Zealand is way down there. I will be flying to New Zealand tomorrow. I am meant to be finding a replacement guitarist for the departing Judd. But I just need to get home. Fullstop.

I am unwell. Ive been lost in a phobic maze and I need to find help.

I keep telling myself tomorrow I go home. Tomorrow I go home.

I will look for a guitarist, even though I know the band will no longer be part mine. There will be another beginning, a new line-up for Enz. Another band of brothers will dream of big tours, epic albums and a decent nights sleep.

When I return to Auckland, Ill go to watch Neil Finn, Tims younger brother. He has been rehearsing for a concert with my brother Geoffrey to be staged at the Maidment Theatre. Their band is called After Hours. Ill surprise them by turning up to the show unannounced.

Lake Michigan is serene in its icy stillness. A Lincoln car dented like a tin tea caddy arrives across the road. Out hop Bob Gillies, Noel Crombie and Eddie Rayner. Theyve no idea Im going to leave. I will keep my decision in a shroud a while longer . and I go to join them.

I walk into the bar, ready to put on makeup and change into my stage clothes. Thats in two hours time. But now sound check time I climb on stage, put on my bass guitar and we play Walking Down A Road.

When all is said and done, we arent a bad band really. Were pretty good.

A band with a weaving plot behind it.

And so it seems right for me now to tell you the story.

The formation of Split Enz occurred in a time that now seems very distant. A distance clocked by the changing world of technology. And mankinds propensity to be stupid and gargantuan at the same time. Today the ambitious teenage rookies know it all. The music industry proffers seminars, booklets, courses, grants and publicity. And you can access everything instantly. The massive dosage of music spun out across New Zealand on mobile devices, car systems, headphones attached to anything you like (and that includes phones), the FM stations, the streaming, the downloads from server islands; all bringing to the novice a clear, concise picture that guides their 'next step'. Images, songs, motion, technocracy all is clear and nothing is left to guesswork. There arent any trams to catch. And the creative brains at work must strive very hard to evolve a unique identity at the very least as the world is awash (at long last!) with a vast array of human beings making music.

In 1972, it was different. And lets talk New Zealand as there was no global connectivity. The music industry threw up middle-of-the-road nonsense on television and the AM stations were all the same. A muddy Top 40 mix of foreign (English and American) music that was, on the whole, insipid. Unlike the decade before. We rejected it all. It was perfect. We walked in a silent world with nothing but our dreams of a musical evolution; an evolution where all would be unique, individual and pioneering. Only on a dark stage were we able to plan what was finally achieved under the bright lights. We collided at first because we couldnt see where we were going. But we got used to being blind. And then things shone!

This story is propelled by the songs of Phil Judd, Tim Finn and Neil Finn. For it was their extraordinary, singular talents that laid the foundation for the band's momentum. The book came to be on the suggestion of Ann Clifford. I lost my mind writing it but thanks to my wife Brigid I found it again. Thank you B for your patience during that time.

Now let us away.

10. We Who Start From Scratch

IN CONTRAST to the murder, mayhem and genocide about to be foisted on Split Enz in the United States, Neil Finn had been having a fairly easy time of it as he sojourned in the lazy New Zealand summer of 197677. The Finn/Chunn/Hough combo that might have been called Easy Keys gradually crumbled away, and Neil found himself back to kitchen writing sessions with Mark Hough. As 1977 rolled around he left his job as a hospital orderly, although he failed to report his departure to the authorities and they continued to pay him for about a month. Divine sustenance.