Whoops. The grass grows under our feet.

Yeah, crikey, Billy here.

Things have been a little quiet in blog land, so thought it best to step into the void and let you know everything is fine and dandy at Teacaddy HQ.
Recently there was quite a flurry of activity (for us anyway), with a number of fun shows that included both the Nelson and Tauranga arts festivals. Good times, especially with the full band playing two shows in Nelson, one at the Neudorf Winery (their wine is delicious) and the other at the festival venue The Granary in the Founders Park, which is reviewed here. The reviewer starts off by mentioning not generally liking anything labelled as ‘indie-folk’, safe to say, we talked her around.

It’s a fair cop, having to give oneself a musical pigeon hole does run the risk of misinforming – what the hell is indie-folk anyway? Sure, it’s useful to have some categorization, but sometimes it’s far better to know what something isn’t. I mean, we’re NOT: rock, electronica, trad folk, opera, contemporary country and western, top 40 pop, classical/orchestral, new wave, old school or musical theatre. Not yet anyway. I’ve just read somewhere that a defining genre can be more an attitude than a distinct sound. Which is good, so we’ll stick with ‘indie-folk’ as I reckon’ the ‘indie’ part means we can be sort-of-all-over-the-place-and-a-bit-arty-but-not-really-cos-we-end-up-like sounding-like-try-hards-that-are-a-bit-geeky-really. And the ‘folk’ part is a nod to the fact we play acoustic guitars and sing songs and stuff. Like Joni Mitchell and David Crosby but without all the cocaine and free love and saving the world.

Comparisons are another useful form of categorization. In here we insert the fact that we are a male/female duo. Like Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush without the seminal pop electronica, the vocal histrionics and the one-shot eternally long hug video clip. Or like The Carpenters without the saccharine keep-it-in-the-family chart hits, the struggle with anorexia, and the teeth. Or Ike and Tina Turner without the black cool, sparkly costumes and violent physical abuse. (We keep it strictly verbal). Or like Gillian Welch and her sidekick David Rawlings without the understated musical genius and tasteful injections of traditional Americana, folk, bluegrass et al. Or like Johnny Cash and June Carter without the dripping coolness, swaggering southern drawls, kooky humour and classic country and western credentials. (Although we get close in the respect that we only know four chords and rely heavily on our bumbling banter and snappy attire). Or like Over The Rhine without the slick earnestness and stunning instrumentation.

What would you define us as? What would you call us? Comment below. (We may rip off your ideas, particularly if they are accurate, amusing or slanderous).

But anyway. The last few gigs were great. Pulled a couple of local shows with our buddies The Eastern (a Lyttelton based male/female duo plus occasional band, with far bigger balls than we have, playing a more ‘down-home’, rootsy/bluegrass footstomp-slash-balladeering type of sound, kind of like a mixture of a freight train and a daisy chain, with banjo and harmonica) and The Broken Heartbreakers (essentially a male/female ‘folk-pop’ duo plus occasional band with more melodic sense than we’ll ever have and the sort of vocal harmonies we would happily rip their arms off for).

Betty and I then made our way to Tauranga for a 5.00pm Saturday slot in the arts festival which went well and followed that up with some revelry, mutual ego massage with the Ukes, and an eight hour drive home peppered with the singing of made up songs of ‘unimaginable filth’ and additions to our world domination manifesto; to wit, Chapter 2: The Masses Shall Bow To Us Once Our Shit Is Together – A Faecal Generation and Containment Policy.

And the future looks relatively rosy. Duh.

Keen to put up some fresh pics soon from our latest exploits including a few by our adopted snapper Michael Edge-Perkins, he has a double barrelled name so don’t mess with him. You can dig around here to see some of his fine work. And here is an immediate example:

Billy and Betty. By Michael Edge-Perkins.

We’ve got some new songs on the go (ooooooh), a resurrection of an old song we’ve never played live (ahhhhhh), and plans in the pipeline for some writing time – hopefully in Betty’s new digs on The Farm (more news on that soon), I sense pastoral vibes, moonshine and interspecies lovemaking. No. Not really.

In the meantime we have a limited amount of this, a tea towel illustrated and designed by our good friend and graphics guru Paul Shakesby. You want one don’t you? Contact us if you wanna talk turkey – just in time for xmas:

That’s it for now. Hopefully that has filled the gap. Do drop us a line, leave a holler or generally give us hell. We’re always up for it.

Billy. x

Oh. And in writing this I discovered Alicia Keys and Bono doing ‘Don’t Give Up’. Which is highly unfortunate.

Nelson Arts Festival

Here at Teacaddy central we’re getting mighty excited about these two up and coming gigs. Betty’s been dusting out her gladdest of rags and Billy’s twanging his braces and compulsively ironing his shirts.

One is at a fabulous winery – see here… http://www.neudorf.co.nz/rosys-tin-tea-caddy-concert/

And the other show is here – http://festivals.nelsoncitycouncil.co.nz/rosy-tin-teacaddy/

We’re taking the whole band with us for these gigs which should prove a tad special dare I say. For those of you who don’t know who that includes they are; Shona Jaunas – Violin, Janet Holborow – Cello, Benny Fulton – Elec Guitar and Al Fraser – Bass. We’ve even managed to squeeze in partners and those with the newest additions to come along for the ride. The ultimate working holiday! Personally I’m looking forward to supping some Neudorf wine and soaking up a few of Nelson’s famous rays. Brrr. Winter in little ol NZ this year sure has cast us some curve balls. It’s hailing outside and I am eagerly anticipating all those extra duvets.

I do hope to meet some of you who live further South than the small tank in our Morris Minor allows.

Betty x

Vote for Us and show us you care – Myspace choice awards

RTT have been nominated for a MySpace Choice Award in the Unsigned category.  To vote for us head over  http://creative.myspacecdn.com/au/nz/marketing/choice/award.html and select our name from the drop down menu on the form. By voting not only do you support us but you also go into the draw to win $500 cash, a subscription to Real Groove Magazine, CD’s, and tickets to a MySpace Secret Show. Voting is open now and closes on the 31st August. Thanks in advance for your vote! Oh yeah, and we get to win stuff too. Goodness all round.

Norman – update

Hey, Billy here.

A while ago I posted about a lovely new guitar made by Norman guitars in Canada. Read that wee tale here.

Since then Norman has enjoyed ‘new baby’ status in the household; cooed over and often played with. While his older brother (my ever faithful Art and Lutherie) was saved for gigging and the rigours of the road. This arrangement was due to the fact that Norman lacked the electrical sophistication that would enable him to be plugged in and amplified.

Well after much researching, debate and saving up of cash I elected to splurdge my hard earned payola on the M1 Active sound hole pick up made by U.S. company LR Baggs. The pick up was tenderly installed by my pal Dave Berry in a red wine infused session of story telling and drilling of holes. Not for the faint hearted I must add, in fact I would not recommend watching such an event. Metaphors aside it’s just not a good idea to witness someone (even a trusted someone) taking to your guitar with a drill and what seems to be a gigantic drill-bit. Scary times. But in no time at all the pick up was fitted and we plugged Norman in to hear the result. Blimey! Chuffed.

You know you’ve made the right decision when your tech guru makes the statement “That’s a nice bit of kit”.

Shimmery, bright, even and with good bottom end. Sure, it’s a magnetic pick up (or ‘pup’ as they say on the geek guitar forums) and has a tonal signature sound defined by the very nature of the science involved versus an under saddle or soundboard transducer type or the internal microphone variety. But to my ears it sounds pretty sweet.

So, hold tight, next time you see RTT out and about there’s a good chance Norman will make an appearance. I’ll be sure to bring along the Art and Lutherie too, in the hope of dispelling any sibling rivalry.

Excitement.

Billy

Slash and burn

Hi, Billy here.

I just finished reading the auto(sort of)biography of Gun’s and Roses guitarist Slash. It didn’t take me long to plough through this chronicle of rock n roll excess. It’s a great read and reminded me of a lot of the reasons why I was (and still am) compelled to make music. I was not so much inspired by the tales of debauchery and drugs (although I’ve eaten sweet treats with nutmeg in them, to little effect and once smashed a teacup into a fire place), it was Slash’s more humble musings on his insatiable thirst for playing music to an audience that resonated with me. I enjoyed his descriptions of relentless touring, seeking the next show, the next town, the next crowd. I also liked how he never understood that touring was considered, by the industry, a mechanism for promoting an album. He just saw it as being able to get out and play live. Which was the reason to make music in the first place.

Now obviously a couple of scallywags in little ole’ New Zealand making music with two guitars, two voices and some very talented friends, hardly compares with the music or career of Slash. But we like to play music as much as he does. And, well, that’s it really.

Passion. I remember when I realised that not everyone liked music, and that some folk didn’t have a relationship with music at all. Other people had other passions; rugby, ballet, cars, breeds of small dogs, computers, gardening, films, stamp collecting, the outdoors etc. I suppose that realisation came about when I worked out that I wasn’t the center of the universe, towards the end of my teenage years – at about age 26. In a strange way this came as a bit of a relief.

I’ve come to understand that music is a shared language, with different dialects and accents. I’ve explored a few of them from sweaty rock through introspective electronica to acoustic folk/country. Which is a bit of a full circle really. In that time it’s been the passion of the music LISTENER that has amazed me most. Luckily for me there are more people happy to absorb and digest music than there are those making it. And, unlike in Slash’s heyday, the mass market/MTV/juggernaut model has lost a little of it’s … integrity. Maybe the average audiophile wised up to the fact they were being treated like foie gras. Combine that with the rise of the internet, digital distribution and social networking and it’s no wonder the major label model has shuddered under the strain to reinvent itself.

But I digress. As usual.

The point is there are lots of reasons people make music. We do it for the same reason as Slash. We love playing to a live audience.

I remember the first time I heard Guns and Roses’ album Appetite For Destruction. I was 13 or 14 and a kid called Marcus brought along a boom box to the annual school swimming sports day at the Onekawa Pools complex in Napier. We spent the whole day listening to that album. It moved me in a way that I knew I was instantly addicted to. And playing music to an audience has given me that same rush of giddy nervous excitement ever since. The cool thing is that I’ve moved on from the early days of ego and ‘look at me’ to the more humble celebration of the song – ‘listen to this‘. Which is something far more genuine to share.

Our song writing itself reflects this. We’re not about to churn out some flagrant gak so as to have something to play at our next gig. Every note and syllable, inflection and word is painstakingly laboured over. Sometimes we strike it lucky and bust out the tune without much fuss. More often than not though it’s crafted over a period of time, with the end user (ie the listener) at the forefront of our minds. What are we saying? How will this be interpreted? Do we know – if not does it matter? Is there a story? A sentiment? A song?

So, if you ever find yourself in an audience at one of our shows please take note that we – you and Betty and I are sharing in a unique experience. And if you get a little tickle of something special running up your spine then that’s great. If you’re bored to tears and wish there was a drummer and some electro clash going on – well, maybe we’re not your cup of cocoa. But thanks a lot for coming along to work it out for yourself.

Either way, buy us a drink (a nicely aged single malt scotch, neat, no ice will do fine) or at least come and say hello. Because we’re just indulging our passion in the hope that it may indulge yours.

And it’s thirsty work.

See you ’round.

Billy

Funny isn’t it?

Hi, Billy here.

Betty and I have been back from our South Island sojourn for a wee while now. Back to life, back to reality. Strange how easy being on tour is, especially when the company is good and the logistics go off without a hitch. It’s quite addictive really, however we’re happy being home too.

Our diary has a smattering of shows lined up for the remainder of the year including the Nelson Arts Festival which will be a highlight for sure. But we’re musing on what the future holds. Ideally we need a month or two off to write some new songs, which doesn’t look likely at this stage so we’ll continue to write when we can; in the cracks of time that appear in our hectic schedules. Although the couple of new songs we’ve been labouring over in the last week or two are starting to sound very nice indeed. Plus we’re hoping to apply for a grant that could see us holed up in cabin for six weeks in 2010 – which would be blissful!

So, hang in there everyone. This bitter New Zealand winter is drawing to a close, the grey warbler in my neighbour’s garden is telling me so. And we’ll be ready for spring with our own fresh bird song and the promise of more good times.

We’ve got a couple of exciting things up our sleeves.

Don’t play cards with the Teacaddies!

Stay tuned. x

Irregular tour post #3

We like glaciers.

Franz and Fox. And a long glorious drive through to Queenstown. Jolly.

Franz Josef was a wonderfully strange show. Things didn’t really get going until The Eastern unplugged their instruments in the middle of their set and went and played by the bar. The night concluded with us all playing bar-side demanding whiskey to be poured liberally into our glasses. We played a Johnny Cash medley and some Stones too. Certain members of the party were rendered unconscious. We will not name them to protect the innocent.

We stopped off at Our Lady of the River. To say a little prayer the next morning. And the South Island kept throwing scenery at us, more than we could cope with.

Queenstown on a Monday night is a fairly big ask. Beer and pizza before hand followed by jager on stage. Not many people. But a couple of buddies and Billy’s cousin and wife came out to sit by the fire and feel the Slow Song Revue burn. Frankly, we played an awesome set.

Billy’s cough lingering from his man-flu is causing issues. But honey/ginger drinks and early nights wrapped up in all the clothes he has with him seem to be doing the trick.

Betty seems chipper and sprightly especially having awoken in a pole-dancing studio. Her appearance in the wall mirror is long and lithe. But now, we must hit the road. It’s fresh and crisp in Queenstown and we are headed to Milford Sound. There is still a little snow on the ground and promise of more.

We’re off. We’re still alive. Everything is okay.

Billy + Betty

Irregular tour post #2

Yes. We’re in a spy movie right now. Hacking in to the mainframe of the South Island in attempt to extract the secrets to the perfect show.

It’s working.

We officially played one of our best gigs ever in Paekakariki on Thursday night. A ripper. We was so proud. For ourselves, our fellow bands, the village, the visitors. What a show. If you missed it, shame.

We played on the ferry to the South Island. After watching Brazil Vs Spain in the FIFA build up. We were supposed to play for 40 mins. We played for two hours. All together now. Picton. Hire car. Let’s roll.

Nelson. Friday night. Boathouse. With the tide moving beneath us, everything got lost, we lost our minds, camera, odds and ends, bits and pieces. We were all exhausted. Too many 5.30am starts had killed us. Walking wounded. Broken hearted. Still pulled off a good show though, with a rousing collective version of the Carter family’s ‘Will the Circle Be Unbroken’ to finish. Pack-out was a blur and we drove 30 mins to Mapuia to sleep in a bach by the sea, where the tide caught up with us again, rushing the moorings, kicking the shoals. We lit a fire and drank an undiscounted bottle of Pinot. Some how we managed to read magazines until sleep came over us like a sea mist. Scarlet Johhansson is married. Shame. We had the best ever coffees next morning. And mediocre eggs benny. The coffee was so good though. So good we had two each. We hit the road leaving the Heartbreakers to clean the bach. Although we did do the dishes.

The drive to Greymouth was a beautiful. Winter lowlight. Tones of autumn caught in the headlights of winter. We spoke little on the road. Resting our voices. Biding our time. There was a long drop, a frozen stream and a fantail on a plaque about three maoris walking a long way.

Greymouth. Cafe called Franks. Mist rolling down the main street. Two flights of stairs with all our gear and some quality hospitality. We recommend this place. Nell, the owner, is a lovely lady. Dumplings. Curry. Fish of the day. Noisy crowd. A dining crowd, the worst kind. We tried everything to win them over, in the end The Eastern ramped up the volume and destroyed them with some soulful chaos. Blues and dues.

We drunk too much whiskey. Sore heads and full bellies. Woke late with a short drive to Franz Joseph ahead of us. We were those annoying noisy people who kept you up in the backpackers last night.

Sorry. We were just having a good time.

At some stage Billy passed out, Betty took off his boots.

We top and tailed til morning.

We’re coasting. Western styles. This slow song revue rolls well.

B + B

Irregular tour post #1

Whoah.

AK. Jetstar flights. Dodgy. Early (very) morning starts.

Lovely hospitality from the Heartbreakers. Giggles and inappropriateness galore. A small, yet attentive audience lapped up the first night of the Slow Song Revue tour at the Whammy Bar in Auckland NZ last night. Would have loved a hundred more people, it was a fine show indeed.
At the end all four bands took to the stage in some kind of ‘We Are The World’ epic get together, proving that a rabble roused is rabble rousing.

Yet to do a guitar count. But estimating at least 8 between us. Plus mando, banjo, fiddle. All before we start squawking too. Oh gentle harmonies, oh delicious goodness.

Knackeredness. Only day two.

Tonight, Rosy Tin Teacaddy hometown hero parade. Paekakariki calm currently before the Slow Song Revue storm hits the village. Battening down the hatches. Come one, come all.

Come for the finale, like an acoustic juggernaut, ferocious and delicate simultaneously.

Oh blessed good times.
Billy.

Tour tour snow snow tour tour snow.

Yep, well she’s a nippy one in Welly today, but nothing as fearsome as the minus 6 in deep South. That same deep south that awaits our pearly little extremities to set it’s icicles into.

Yes. Billy and Betty are hitting the road for a revue-style tour.
Should be fun. Got some grand music pals who promise so snuggle up to us in their sleeping bags and not fight over the stretch of random carpet we may be sharing.

Auckland’s Broken Heartbreakers and Bond Street Bridge are joining us as are Lyttelton Harbour’s lonesome road dogs The Eastern.
The concept is simple: each band promises a short yet swaggering set of their bluest ballads, then they join each other in a celebration sing-along of heartbreak and hope.

The Slow Song Revue traverses the country over New Zealand’s coldest months offering shelter from storms both meteorological and personal.
Here are the dates. We sure would love to see you on the adventures!

SLOW SONG REVUE TOUR
 
24 Jun 9pm WHAMMY BAR, Auckland
25 Jun 8pm ST PETER’S HALL, Paekakariki
26 Jun 8pm THE BOATHOUSE, Nelson
27 Jun 8pm FRANK’S CAFÉ, Greymouth
28 Jun 8pm MONSOON BAR, Franz Josef
29 Jun 8pm DUX de LUX, Queenstown
30 Jun 8pm BLUE DUCK LODGE, Milford Sound
2 Jul 8pm CHICK’S HOTEL, Port Chalmers
3 Jul 8pm GOODBYE BLUE MONDAY, ChCh