Back to the Mainland, as promised, and back to Flying Nun bands, for the moment.
The Terminals are a less-celebrated Nun band, perhaps unfairly, but their sound is maybe less accessible that the then-poppier likes of The Chills, Able Tasmans, Straitjacket Fiots, bats or JPS Experience, each a stablemate of the time. Based in Christchurch the sound of the Terminals evokes the emptiness of the Canterbury plains and Uncoffined, their full-length debut is filled with great, echoing, jangling high-tension balladry. Like the [Wellington] Avengers they had a stab at Episode Six's Love Hate Revenge, while album closer Lolita and Mothlight are other favourites.
The album's title track has a stark, reverberating Western edge, a sound not really that common for Flying Nun's artists, though the nearest equivalent is an easy pick, guitarist Brian Crook's later outfit The Renderers (with wife Mary Rose). I caught them at a gig in Dunedin's Empire and enjoyed it thoroughly.
Roll video - deliberately lo-fi, and with a coin-spitting cautionary lesson for young players. Some day one hell of a Western is going to be made around this song, I swear.
Hmm. Still, too many white guys with guitars so far. Next time: a change of gear...
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