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Chris Knox: Not Given Lightly
The story of the man, the music, the art, the attitude. Chris Not Given Lightly tells the story of one extraordinarily creative man's journey from the obscurity of punk rock to the heart of New Zealand culture.
- GenresMusic
464 pages, Paperback
Published March 9, 2026
6 people are currently reading
43 people want to read
About the author
Craig Robertson
41 books252 followersDuring his 20-year career with a Scottish Sunday newspaper, Craig Robertson has interviewed three recent Prime Ministers; attended major stories including 9/11, Dunblane, the Omagh bombing and the disappearance of Madeleine McCann; been pilloried on breakfast television, beaten Oprah Winfrey to a major scoop, been among the first to interview Susan Boyle, spent time on Death Row in the USA and dispensed polio drops in the backstreets of India.
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
October 26, 2025
Finished this last evening. Wow. An outstanding biography. The truly singular life of this major NZ cultural figure is covered in exemplary manner by Craig Robertson (an NZer, not the Scottish writer Good Reads has linked to).
The writing is high quality through-out, which details, explains and analyses Knox's life superbly.
It clearly articulates Knox's personality, achievements and influence vividly and indepth, but has no qualms about displaying less appealing aspects of his personality, either.
Every chapter is also blessed with an abundance of photos, posters, cartoons and other ephemera which further bring to life Knox's story.
While Knox is primarily known as a musician, the book does an impressive job of outlining his considerable work as a cartoonist, video maker, columnist, television presenter and artist, too.
You owe it to yourself to read this.
The writing is high quality through-out, which details, explains and analyses Knox's life superbly.
It clearly articulates Knox's personality, achievements and influence vividly and indepth, but has no qualms about displaying less appealing aspects of his personality, either.
Every chapter is also blessed with an abundance of photos, posters, cartoons and other ephemera which further bring to life Knox's story.
While Knox is primarily known as a musician, the book does an impressive job of outlining his considerable work as a cartoonist, video maker, columnist, television presenter and artist, too.
You owe it to yourself to read this.
November 16, 2025
An extraordinary book about an extraordinary man. Robertson rightly does not write a hagiography, and the book grapples with a lot of the complexities that make Knox the maddening figure he is (it’s telling that he loves Lennon so much, aka the autistic Beatles’ fan nightmare because of his contradictory and awkward persona). In fact it goes head on with this several times, and even allows for a rejoinder to the obviously deeply hurt Matthew Bannister’s memories of Knox in Positively George Street with Knox finally grappling pre-stroke with the idea that he might just be a bit of an annoying twat sometimes. I can’t imagine Knox allowing for anything else though, so I’m glad it’s a book that’s celebratory as it is sometimes wary of Knox at his most Knoxy
It also took me a surprising amount of time to read and I think that’s because even all these years into his post stroke life we’re talking about a man who cannot and will not be creatively still. This is something that I’ve grappled with at length post accident, and honestly I’ve sort of let it defeat me a little, so it’s enormously empowering and incredibly funny to read of post stroke Knox trying (and failing) to sell his paintings to Pavement as the book ends. When he was well the man was unstoppable, just a ceaseless example of the art life. It’s a wonderful book beyond the music for grasping a sense of the arts in New Zealand, especially comics (it probably helps that an enormous amount of NZ musicians are highly talented graphic artists as well - Knox, Robert Scott, Stefan Neville, David Mitchell - so there’s a huge crossover here)
If you want a serious exploration of Knox’s life post stroke you’re probably better off served by the passages in Shayne Carter’s book, but this isn’t what Robertson wants to talk about. He’s wanting to address an incredibly important, pivotal figure in New Zealand art and music and in alternative music worldwide (it delights me no end that John Fernandes of Olivia Tremor Control, another hero of mine, is as much of a joy here as he is everywhere) and do it in a way that demonstrates what a key figure he still is
Best review by the way is this from George Henderson of the Puddle: https://open.substack.com/pub/georged...
It also took me a surprising amount of time to read and I think that’s because even all these years into his post stroke life we’re talking about a man who cannot and will not be creatively still. This is something that I’ve grappled with at length post accident, and honestly I’ve sort of let it defeat me a little, so it’s enormously empowering and incredibly funny to read of post stroke Knox trying (and failing) to sell his paintings to Pavement as the book ends. When he was well the man was unstoppable, just a ceaseless example of the art life. It’s a wonderful book beyond the music for grasping a sense of the arts in New Zealand, especially comics (it probably helps that an enormous amount of NZ musicians are highly talented graphic artists as well - Knox, Robert Scott, Stefan Neville, David Mitchell - so there’s a huge crossover here)
If you want a serious exploration of Knox’s life post stroke you’re probably better off served by the passages in Shayne Carter’s book, but this isn’t what Robertson wants to talk about. He’s wanting to address an incredibly important, pivotal figure in New Zealand art and music and in alternative music worldwide (it delights me no end that John Fernandes of Olivia Tremor Control, another hero of mine, is as much of a joy here as he is everywhere) and do it in a way that demonstrates what a key figure he still is
Best review by the way is this from George Henderson of the Puddle: https://open.substack.com/pub/georged...
Review of advance copy
Impressive biography of Chris Knox, musician, singer, producer, critic, artist, cartoonist, commentator, and TV presenter, one of the most important New Zealand cultural figures of the last 50 years.
Knox came out of the punk movement of the late 1970s with the bands The Enemy and Toy Love, becoming a crucial influence on the ethos of the NZ indie music scene of the 1980s onward, especially in association with Flying Nun Records (for whom he recorded as one half of Tall Dwarfs and as a solo artist). He subsequently added many more strings to his bow, becoming a well-recognised figure in the local cultural and media landscape.
Author Craig Robertson is a sure guide to Knox’s story, having written one of the first academic essays on “The Dunedin Sound” associated with Flying Nun; and having gone on to write several books as an academic in the US. Although this is his first biography, the scholarly craft shines through, as Robertson not only recounts the key events, building the narrative, but also focuses close on Knox’s musical methods and meanings, placing them in a wider context, and working away at explaining how his art embodies an intriguing, sometimes abrasive, but sincere worldview.
There’s a lot in this book, including many previously untold (or unpublished) stories and illuminating details. Robertson tightly weaves together strands familial, domestic, artistic and (one might say) professional, showing how Knox’s life was a fully intentional one, however difficult it sometimes proved to be for himself, his friends, family, and associates.
Robertson provides much detail about Knox’s DIY recording techniques, then goes several step further. Building songs up using a 4-track or 8-track tape recorder in a domestic workroom, he explains, was a way of capturing life moments and being true to those moments, however warts and all. It wasn’t “lo-fi,” but rather had high fidelity to Knox’s conceptions of truthful human expression. It was a lived philosophy that – to some extent or other - influenced a generation of NZ musicians and US indie artists including Pavement, Lou Barlow (Sebadoh), John Darnielle (Mountain Goats), and Jeff Mangum (Neutral Milk Hotel). Similarly, there are many entertaining tales of his live performances, which were a kind of freeform performance art encompassing improvised lyrics, standup comedy, crowd participation, and invasions of personal space (e.g., licking audience members’ faces) that it’s amazing he got away with. Ahh, those were the 1990s, as Robertson wryly remarks.
Some reviews of the book have criticised its high level of detail, but I thought Robertson’s approach made sense, emphasising Knox’s dedication to the flux of creativity, the teeming possibilities he found in everyday life, that focus on what’s right before you. Rather than abstract, distanced, working toward some theory or long-term goal, his was an intuitive art. It must have been a challenge to dig up the deeper strata beneath such creativity, but I think Robertson pulls it off.
His book will serve as a foundation for later writers to build on and argue with, capturing many memories of his times and presenting a coherent interpretation of an artistic life well-lived.
(NB. My copy of this book was purchased at a book store in New Zealand in October 2025, at which time the book had been out already for some weeks. It was not a pre-publication copy as Goodreads seems to have it.)
Knox came out of the punk movement of the late 1970s with the bands The Enemy and Toy Love, becoming a crucial influence on the ethos of the NZ indie music scene of the 1980s onward, especially in association with Flying Nun Records (for whom he recorded as one half of Tall Dwarfs and as a solo artist). He subsequently added many more strings to his bow, becoming a well-recognised figure in the local cultural and media landscape.
Author Craig Robertson is a sure guide to Knox’s story, having written one of the first academic essays on “The Dunedin Sound” associated with Flying Nun; and having gone on to write several books as an academic in the US. Although this is his first biography, the scholarly craft shines through, as Robertson not only recounts the key events, building the narrative, but also focuses close on Knox’s musical methods and meanings, placing them in a wider context, and working away at explaining how his art embodies an intriguing, sometimes abrasive, but sincere worldview.
There’s a lot in this book, including many previously untold (or unpublished) stories and illuminating details. Robertson tightly weaves together strands familial, domestic, artistic and (one might say) professional, showing how Knox’s life was a fully intentional one, however difficult it sometimes proved to be for himself, his friends, family, and associates.
Robertson provides much detail about Knox’s DIY recording techniques, then goes several step further. Building songs up using a 4-track or 8-track tape recorder in a domestic workroom, he explains, was a way of capturing life moments and being true to those moments, however warts and all. It wasn’t “lo-fi,” but rather had high fidelity to Knox’s conceptions of truthful human expression. It was a lived philosophy that – to some extent or other - influenced a generation of NZ musicians and US indie artists including Pavement, Lou Barlow (Sebadoh), John Darnielle (Mountain Goats), and Jeff Mangum (Neutral Milk Hotel). Similarly, there are many entertaining tales of his live performances, which were a kind of freeform performance art encompassing improvised lyrics, standup comedy, crowd participation, and invasions of personal space (e.g., licking audience members’ faces) that it’s amazing he got away with. Ahh, those were the 1990s, as Robertson wryly remarks.
Some reviews of the book have criticised its high level of detail, but I thought Robertson’s approach made sense, emphasising Knox’s dedication to the flux of creativity, the teeming possibilities he found in everyday life, that focus on what’s right before you. Rather than abstract, distanced, working toward some theory or long-term goal, his was an intuitive art. It must have been a challenge to dig up the deeper strata beneath such creativity, but I think Robertson pulls it off.
His book will serve as a foundation for later writers to build on and argue with, capturing many memories of his times and presenting a coherent interpretation of an artistic life well-lived.
(NB. My copy of this book was purchased at a book store in New Zealand in October 2025, at which time the book had been out already for some weeks. It was not a pre-publication copy as Goodreads seems to have it.)
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
A faltering first few pages then it hits stride. I’m invested in the story of Knox trying to find his way, his art, and Toy Love.
Friend and writer Martin Patrick tell me, “Some people are saying there’s just way too much detail.’
“Is there?” I reply. “I’m enjoying it.”
And I am, but not as much as I was. After the Toy Love years that I was too young to live through, come the Tall Dwarf years that I remember. Maybe there is too much detail, and not enough dynamics. Perhaps somethings could be dispensed with so that more detail and insight could be added to selected moments.
Two thirds of the way through, misgivings have cemented. The book seems to give the same weight to everything rather than finding a way to talk about various milestones, changes, artistic projects of particular note. I’m still interested, but for anyone not already invested in Knox’s output and legacy, this might draaaaaaaag.
Robertson convincingly wraps up Knox’s motivations, aesthetic and legacy in the closing pages before the post stroke epilogue.
We needed a book about the provocative and indefatigable Chris Knox. This is not quite the book I wanted but it’s what we’ve got.
Friend and writer Martin Patrick tell me, “Some people are saying there’s just way too much detail.’
“Is there?” I reply. “I’m enjoying it.”
And I am, but not as much as I was. After the Toy Love years that I was too young to live through, come the Tall Dwarf years that I remember. Maybe there is too much detail, and not enough dynamics. Perhaps somethings could be dispensed with so that more detail and insight could be added to selected moments.
Two thirds of the way through, misgivings have cemented. The book seems to give the same weight to everything rather than finding a way to talk about various milestones, changes, artistic projects of particular note. I’m still interested, but for anyone not already invested in Knox’s output and legacy, this might draaaaaaaag.
Robertson convincingly wraps up Knox’s motivations, aesthetic and legacy in the closing pages before the post stroke epilogue.
We needed a book about the provocative and indefatigable Chris Knox. This is not quite the book I wanted but it’s what we’ve got.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews