The Front Lawn is a multi-award-winning, much-loved New Zealand duo-turned-trio made up of Don McGlashan, Harry Sinclair and, eventually, Jennifer Ward-Lealand. A 1980s variety act, The Front Lawn was part of an Aotearoa/New Zealand alternative tradition of duos that combine music, comedy, theatre and film. Their debut album Songs from The Front Lawn (1989) distilled McGlashan and Sinclair's theatrical stage show and their groundbreaking short films, Walkshort and The Lounge Bar, while also thrusting the band into the burgeoning New Zealand indie scene. The album is a snapshot of '80s New Zealand, a turbulent, creative period for indie music, indie film and musical theatre, celebrating local identity in new ways.
Starting with a social and cultural background of New Zealand in the late 1970s, the book covers McGlashan and Sinclair's upbringing on Auckland's North Shore, early artistic influences and overseas experiences leading to the formation of the group. Much attention is paid to the duo's philosophy, early performances, the process of recording the album – including The Front Lawn's collaboration with Wellington avant-garde/cabaret group Six Volts and the addition of Jennifer Ward-Lealand as the group's third member – and analysis of each of the album's 10 songs. In parting, Matthew Bannister discusses the group's second and final album, More Songs from The Front Lawn, as well as the individual members' subsequent artistic careers
Say the word “Euphonium” in NZ and most people (of a certain vintage) will think Don McGlashan. Never shying away from an opportunity to pull it out and throw into the mix, no matter how jarring or incongruous it may sound, he’s happy as clam to rump-pump-away with that big ole thing!, even once joining Crowded House on the stage at Glastonbury back in 2008.
I’ve read many of these books, though this is the first case I’ve come across one where not only had I never listened to the album before, but I’d never even heard of it. I’m familiar with much of McGlashan’s work through Blam Blam Blam and The Mutton Birds, most of which I could take or leave.
Bannister makes some very interesting points about the political background and the cultural cringe which had varying impacts on NZ culture and people’s approach to it throughout the 70s and 80s. Though the author has the annoying habit of selectively injecting bilingual names to certain places, but not others?... It’s like mate, if you’re going to virtue signal then at least have some consistency about your sacred plight, the half-hearted approach just makes it look a bit lazy and tokenistic.
Elsewhere we get some attempts at going deeper into the song meanings and this has mixed success, sometimes he makes fair points and others he seems to get lost down confusing rabbit holes and struggles to emerge with a coherent explanation or conclusion. So overall, like most in this series I’ve come across, this is hit and miss, but it may have a bigger impact on those more familiar with the actual album.
This was so interesting. I got a bit lost at times in the detail of the musicality and the academic references, but the social history was great. Gave me a reminder of the times I lived through - and reminded me of bands such as Six Volts that I remember going to see. Short, easy read too.
Enjoyed this, Bannister situates the band, explores the context behind the group and album and brings in the supporting pop-cultural moments from NZ within the timeframe. It’s a live letter to a curious gem, from a curious gem.
I couldn't have completed my master's dissertation without countless references to Bannister's other writings, and it was so nice to finally read his work without the spectre of assessment looming over my head! I've loved this album for as long as I can remember – really really enjoyed this one!