Canvas editorial: Sarah Daniell on Fat Freddy’s Drop frontman Dallas Tamaira’s first solo single

Dallas Tamaira. Photo / Nick Paulsen

EDITORIAL

It was called a den of inequity, but the Matterhorn in Cuba Mall, Pōneke, was a stylish, unpretentious place to hang in the late 90s and early 2000s. You could arrive alone, sit at the bar, order a beer or a “Falling Water”, and end up partying very late with friends.

The Matterhorn has always been a bit of a star magnet. In its first iteration as a “continental cafe” in the 60s, Louis Armstrong and Trini Lopez visited. Later, Lord of The Rings star Elijah Woods celebrated his 21st birthday there. Fat Freddy’s Drop, freshly minted, played their first gig at the Matterhorn and they would record their first album there: 2001′s Live at the Matterhorn. Just four tracks, 70 minutes. Seminal, raw and remarkable.

It was the days before the stadium crowds and world fame, and European tours. Even then, their musicianship was astonishing, and their discipline. The horn section breathtaking, and then ... Dallas Tamaira’s voice; layers of rich contradictions: loose, focused, quietly powerful. Standing up there with the microphone but on a whole other frequency.

As Tamaira launches his first solo single, in this issue Russell Brown asks him, where did that voice come from? The simple answer may start with Kaikōura, his hometown, his whānau. Tamaira references Bill Withers. But adding to the patina, surely, was that small bar in the late 90s. Before the world would echo all the words to all the songs; before the festivals of thousands, the albums and interviews, there was a bar and a town and a community and a culture. There were parties and there was mahi, and a bunch of brothers led by a voice like nothing anyone had ever heard before.

sarah.daniell@nzme.co.nz