Review Summary: A varied collection of early '80s songs by New Zealand band The Chills, including the haunting Pink Frost
It isn’t often that an album can center itself in on one song, and still come out looking good. The song at the core of New Zealand band the Chill’s 1986 album
Kaleidoscope World is
Pink Frost. The power of
Pink Frost cannot be emphasized enough, but yet it is not a bombastic rock anthem.
Pink Frost is quite the opposite, with dampened, stolid guitars creating a unmatched melody. Singer Mark Phillipps vocals resonate the style of Joy Division’s frontman Ian Curtis in
Love Will Tear Us Apart. The mix of a languid manner and heart-aching emotion put
Pink Frost in a league of its own. It is a song that does not pass lightly, despite it’s almost mist like textures, its aggregate impact has been so great yet across so few people.
With the Chills having gone through over 10 lineup changes, it is no wonder that their sound on this compilation album is quite varied. Even though the textures jump around like they were on a Persian style rug, the Chill’s infectious pop melodies pull it all together. The album jumps around a lot, an album of enthralling odds and ends rather than a flowing, grandiose piece of musical composition. As one pseudo-camp/latin voice puts it in the party of
Purple Girl “I’ve never been to a party like theese before!” The trumpets bounce about with camp flamboyance whilst sounds of the party interweave with the harmonized voices singing “Purple Girl,” it’s a liveliness similar to that often created by B-52’s.
On the surface the album seems to deal in nonsensical themes, with songs seemingly about indiscriminate objects like leather jackets, satin dolls, and flamethrowers. Yet often it is through the lyrics that meaning is formed. Underneath the catchy regularity of
I Love my Leather Jacket lies a touching tribute to deceased drummer and former member of the Chills Martyn Bull, “It's the only concrete link with an absent friend. It's a symbol I can wear until we meet again..."
The lyrics are often ambiguous, yet the exploration of these lyrics reveals that the Chills aren’t all about insubstantial, whimsical fun.
Throughout the album, one constant is an irresistible Kiwi pop sound. Many New Zealand albums from the 1980s shared a unique sound present underneath each bands own unique style. In
Kaleidoscope World this signature sound of New Zealand is used impeccably, the vocals seemingly harmonizing with themselves, with the slightest sign of echo.
At times the vocals seem nonchalant as in
Bee Bah Bee Bah Bee Boe, where each strand of sound seems incredibly intriguing to us, but uninteresting to the Chills. They slide easily between segments, delivering each stanza with ease before fading out to let the recurrent twanging guitars have their turn. In
Rolling Moon the movements seem to come with mellow ease, each lure seeming to come and go as it pleases. “We wander lost forgotten hills. Blue sky, green grass, we are still. The mists enfold us gently smelling. Breeze in our ears softly telling of the days of light and laughter long ago.”
This album is in part stuck in the
Doledrums, youths wasting away endless summers or at least reminiscent of such days. Yet along the way the minds of the Chills seem to drift from one fascinating point to another. And when kicked into action like in
Hidden Bay they blend together that irresistible Kiwi pop sound with a catchy kick. The mood of the Chills certainly varies a lot from song to song, yet whether it is high, low or casually indifferent the Chills seem to pull it off with their unique sound making its presence felt.
Some may only find themselves pulled by the heart-aching emotion of
Pink Frost with the hooks and harmonies of the rest of the album never quite pulling the same punch. One will not find perfection in
Kaleidoscope World, but across the doledrums, the tales of lost friends and hidden bays a whole host of unique sounds will be found, with a flavour or two for everyone.
