Tall Dwarfs emerged amongst a handful of standout ’80s punk-adjacent acts from New Zealand, burbling up within the wake of iconic label Flying Nun’s founding; and so they tread a well-recognized path – domestically beloved, however in any other case extra obscure, an intriguing and important layer within the nation’s cultural underground. They had been born out of cult band Toy Love, who had been at one level so well-liked they made the hop to Sydney, on the promise of a springboard to London, however had been swiftly met after which rejected by head-scratching pub-rock punters who didn’t get it. Crestfallen, Dwarfs co-founders Chris Knox and Alec Bathgate retreated house to Dunedin, purchased a four-track and commenced experimenting, decided to by no means once more fall prey to the music trade’s trappings, which Knox known as, “completely 100 per cent despicable”.
By no means underestimate the motivating power of “I’ll present you” – that’s to not say that Knox and Bathgate, as Tall Dwarfs, turned the music trade on its head, and even charted. However, starting in 1981, they crafted distinctive work that stands by itself, on their phrases. One could be forgiven for considering they’d discovered the template for In The Aeroplane Over The Sea after listening to the Dwarfs’ closest factor to successful, “Nothing’s Going To Occur”, from their 1981 debut EP Three Songs, launched on short-lived Kiwi indie Furtive.
The tune’s charming melody and stripped-back, drum-free association, anchored by Knox’s impassioned, out-in-front singing – it lands someplace between Jonathan Richman and a sea shanty – helped launch a wave of indirect bed room people to come back (Impartial Milk Lodge, Decemberists, Casiotone For The Painfully Alone) and successfully set the template for the band; one which they’d embellish, or carve away at, however by no means stray removed from, of their 20 years of creating data. “All My Hollowness To You”, from the identical EP, demonstrated their use of handclaps-as-percussion, and love of the Casiotone keyboard.
The group’s second EP, Louis Likes His Every day Dip, was launched on Roger Shepherd’s iconic Flying Nun in 1982, and the Dwarfs remained with the label for the remainder of their profession, which spanned eight EPs, six LPs and two compilations. Now Merge, in a longstanding partnership with Flying Nun, has compiled this 55-track anthology of the band’s output on 4 LPs or two CDs, and all the things is up on streaming providers for the primary time. It’s an amazing alternative to dive into the family tree of a polarising sound, co-opted by main labels by the mid-noughties. As is usually the case, one can’t go unsuitable with the unique.
