Back in the 1990s, New Zealand band, The Bats, rose to prominence on the international stage. Like many other bands of that era, from that relatively small country, they had an outsized influence on many others. It’s hard to talk about New Zealand’s music scene and not mention Split Endz and the Finn Brothers. I think we should speak of Robert Scott in the same way when we think of the list of great NZ musicians.
I’m not here to write of his output with The Bats, but to look at his solo work. In particular, I want to go back a decade to Scott’s album, The Green House. While his solo work can sometimes be quite experimental, this one is pretty straightforward alternative indie rock/pop. Yet, it bears all the hallmarks of Scott’s talents as a songwriter – top-tapping melodies, atmospheric instrumentation and his exemplary guitar work.
The album opener, Lights Are Low, is all moody picked guitar and the haunting vocals of Hollie Fullbrook from Tiny Ruins, who, incidentally, adds her voice to five of the The Green House’s 12 tracks. It is a song that sets the scene for the rest of the album. You might be getting songs that on the surface are just great pop songs, but they’ll sink into your psyche and stick there, finding ways to affect you when you least expect it. That’s the magic of Robert Scott, right there.
It’s not all acoustic wonderment, either. Vertigo, finishing off the first quarter of the album, could easily sit among the output of current indie faves, The Reds, Pinks and Purples. Glenn Donaldson’s band is probably a good contemporary comparison, although there’s also a seam of darkness that keeps bubbling up in The Green House. The jangle pop of Scott’s other bands is put aside here, swapped out for a harder edged and layered soundscape.
Scott’s 30+ years’ experience of being in bands and writing songs really shows, as each of these songs showcases a songwriter who not only still at the top of their game but is able to wrong foot the listener with creative compositional flourishes that keep you listening. They’re the sort of musical switches that make you think, “Damn, I wasn’t expecting that!” He’s a master.
The richness of NZ’s folk scene is also present here. Following on from the beautiful instrumental, Favourite Case, comes another track which features Hollie’s contrasting voice, Now In Your Hands. It’s probably one of the most straightforward songs on the album, yet in any other hands it would be merely good. With Scott’s deftness as a writer, guitarist and singer, so it becomes great.
It’s Scott’s voice that makes this album so listenable, really. It’s understated. It’s a vehicle for this lyrics, sure, but it’s dripping with emotional intent. There’s a weight to it, even though it’s actually quite fragile and dropped down in the mix. In this way, it reminds me of Sune Rose Wagner of The Raveonettes (if he was to sing with Sharin Foo in an alt-country, folk style). If it wasn’t there you’d be wondering what was missing. This is most obvious on Hear The Hondas, which has a simple melody picked out on the guitar, the vocals carefully laid atop almost as an afterthought. And yet. Using overdubs, Scott manages to create a soothing complexity, so warm and inviting you want to bathe in it.
I think, in all honesty, what I’m describing is a New Zealand sound. Despite no accent to pick up on, I reckon I could place the origin of Scott’s music on first listen. As you come over the ridge of the guitar riff on Where The Frost Lies, for example, the drums make you stop and take in the view, as it were. Another instrumental that somehow bottles the feeling of the place in which it was made and brings it to you through the magic of audio.
And with that, you slip beneath the surface of the final track, Right From Wrong, and suddenly you’re cocooned in more of Scott’s folk splendour. Probably one of simplest tracks of the entire record, it’s the perfect way bring your listening to a close. There’s no fade out, though. It’s Robert Scott doing what Robert Scott does best – an unexpected ending as the final plucks of his guitar strings stop a bar or two earlier than a lesser musician might choose. Yet, it is of course, the perfect way to draw this listening experience to a close.