In 'Dead People I Have Known', Shayne Carter has spun the fragments in life that have haunted him into this ripper of a reflective work. Photo / Getty Images
DEAD PEOPLE I HAVE KNOWN Shayne Carter (Victoria University Press, $40 – releases May 9) Reviewed by Kiran Dass
"I prefer the prejudice of memory," writes Dunedin-based musician Shayne Carter in his autobiography. He goes on to quote Janet Frame; "The thing which prompts you to sit down and write must be something that haunts you."
Whether it's people (dead or alive) or incidents, Carter has taken the fragments in life that have haunted him and spun them into this reflective work and it's an absolute ripper. Packed with insight, brimming with lead breaks, girls, barbs as sharp as his idiosyncratic southpaw guitar playing, juicy bon mots and lots of snark, it's a wild roller ride. Part One is entitled "Nya nya nya", which sets the tone nicely.
But he's always been bold with words. Look at his band names: Sparkling Whine, Bored Games, Doublehappys, even Straitjacket Fits. Dead People I Have Known is a striking book about music, community, family, identity, popular culture and place - in particular growing up in 1970s Dunedin - a city that has produced a staggering amount of excellent music but is also hemmed in by the hills, a place back then he describes of conservatism and with a deep-set propensity for violence. Carter writes of one early gig where he stayed on stage for 20 minutes after the show ended because a group of tough Bodgies were waiting for him at the door. "Weirdly, they didn't just drag me off the stage. I guess that space is sacrosanct," he remembers dryly.
Carter gets the odd delicious dig in and airs a few grievances. Ex-partners might not want to read it but there is also a strong sense of friendship and community in this book. When money is needed for Carter's father's headstone, people rally around to play a benefit gig in a show of communal DIY spirit.
I lost count of the dead people Carter has known. There's at least 17 that I can remember, including his parents who are compelling and complex music-loving characters written about with a beautiful honesty. There's also his Bored Games and Doublehappys bandmate Wayne Elsey, who tragically died in a train accident aged 21. Carter writes about that incident and its effects with a kind of dazed-but-forensic memory; it's heartbreaking.
There's self-deprecation and bone-dry cynical humour but Carter is a lovely writer. The detail of growing up eating tomato sandwiches, making friends and discovering a love of music in the working-class Dunedin suburb Brockville are evocative and there's a real sense that beyond any rock 'n' roll swagger, antics and artifice, it was really just a bunch of nerds making music.
When punk rock finally hit New Zealand, Carter and friends were standing by. He writes that the only mistake you can make in rock 'n' roll is being too careful about it. Pitch-perfect and fascinating is his commentary about his craft and songwriting. There's just the right amount of technical detail and illuminating backstory that activate his songs in a new light.
From winning his first award (Youngest Person at Dance) aged 5 to his first performance through a microphone (Form 2 at intermediate "when I'd bored an entire assembly brainless with a racing commentary that I'd slaved over for a week") and the bNet New Zealand Music Awards where he won the bNet Lifetime Achievement Award, Carter charts the evolution of his musical career, detailing all the twists and turns of exploring new sonic directions.
I loved the infectious and insightful way he writes about the music he loves; Sly and the Family Stone, Al Green, Marvin Gaye. And the way he writes about the music he doesn't love is just as good. He is often very funny and there are many genuine laugh-out-loud moments. He describes David Bowie's Space Oddity as "an alien lament song sung in a Rovers Return accent."
Carter remains mindful of the grubby punk origins that have shaped him. When his music was performed by the Dunedin Symphony Orchestra at the Dunedin Town Hall, he notes, "It was ironic to have our music given a standing ovation in the Town Hall, when as kids it got us beaten up in the street. That's the respectability of age, and time proving you were right."
Dead People I Have Known is sharp, moving and tender. Carter has backbone. He writes with a staunch self-awareness and alongside the successful moments doesn't shy away from revealing the awkward, embarrassing and low points. It's compelling, smart and immersive and I couldn't put it down.
• Shayne Carter appears at the Auckland Writers Festival in conversation with John Campbell on Saturday, May 18 at the ASB Theatre, Aotea Centre.
Also Like: Kiran Dass rounds up her picks of music bios
Art Sex Music by Cosey Fanni Tutti This is essential reading for anyone who wants to read about strong, independent, pioneering women in music. Experimental musician, artist, former striptease artiste and pornographic model Cosey Fanni Tutti brought art, sound and music together in the groundbreaking 1970s English group Throbbing Gristle which she co-founded. Confronting, singular, reactionary and sonically adventurous, the group performed and showed art in some of the most prestigious art galleries across the world. Their disruptive approach famously provoked the Tory MP Sir Nicholas Fairbairn to disdainfully declare the group as being "the wreckers of civilisation". Brimming with so much insight and detail about growing up in dreary suburban post-war England, difficult family dynamics and maintaining a successful practice in art and music without compromising, Tutti is an inspiration.
In Love with These Times: My Life with Flying Nun Records by Roger Shepherd "I wanted to be more than just an observer. I wanted to be a part of what was going on. I had told someone and the word was out, and now I had to actually do this thing. Start a record label. I must have been drunk," writes Roger Shepherd, founder of legendary New Zealand record label Flying Nun, in this engrossing backstage pass to the indie label he started with $300, taking New Zealand music to the world. Written from a personal perspective, Shepherd writes of the trials and tribulations of running a small business - what they lacked in financial savvy was compensated with a spirited DIY approach.
I'm Not with the Band by Sylvia Patterson Music journalist Sylvia Patterson brings together insight, personal experience and music criticism in this juicy memoir about her time as a staff writer at Smash Hits during its heyday in the mid to late 1980s. Patterson is an excellent writer and storyteller. Her writing is super witty, sharp, irreverent, and this is a great insider's account. It's packed with anecdote after anecdote about her encounters with George Michael, Prince, Primal Scream and a chapter about New Order's Bernard Sumner, who once said to her, "If you ask anything horrible, we'll break your effing legs"; and Madonna, who was so outraged after an interview with Patterson that she demanded all her interviewers in the future be male.
To Throw Away Unopened by Viv Albertine Known and loved for her work with all-female post-punk band, The Slits, Viv Albertine has since established herself as a fine writer with her two memoirs - Clothes Music Boys and its follow-up, To Throw Away Unopened. Here, she writes about how even in middle age, her punk spirit has never left her as she reflects on the rage of being a woman smashing through the patriarchy. Albertine has had an extraordinarily interesting and colourful life and this is account is nothing short of powerful.
Lost in Music by Giles Smith This is my favourite book ever written about music and I love it so much I've read it 13 times and it's never lost its charm, appeal or ability to crack me up. Anyone who has ever purchased a record, obsessed over a song or played (or attempted to play) music in a band will relate to this warm-hearted and comic memoir by British music journalist Giles Smith. From writing about discovering a love of pop music from a young age, his ill-fated attempts at pop stardom with cult lo-fi group Cleaners From Venus and his career as a music journalist, this is a brilliant pop odyssey. The chapters about Lionel Richie and Phil Collins are hilariously unforgettable.