The year our voice broke through

There was no place like home when it came to music this year, writes GRAHAM REID.

No review of music in New Zealand this year would be complete without first mentioning the phenomenal impact of Robbie Williams. And now that's done, it's on with the countdown.

After the Big Day Out (good showing from Polly Harvey, love those burning Germans), big international stars were mostly absent from our shores.

Sure, there was an interesting cross-section of musical tourists - Dido, Nelly Furtado, the Corrs, Vega Boys, Emmylou Harris, St Germain and Bad Manners, oddly enough - and yes, the now-customary DJs-with-crates arrived, partied us hard then left again, but mostly it was eyes down and look at the locals.

And New Zealand music enjoyed a cracker of a year.

Local electronica and dub busted out all over; dance and hip-hop could swell its chest with pride; dance parties remained strong but live musicians who worked the crossover territory between rock and electronica (Dimmer, SJD) pulled from both audiences; rock bands made a comeback, and there were terrific local albums from all corners.

This year we were favoured with exceptional releases by Dimmer, Salmonella Dub, Anika Moa, Gramsci, Nathan Haines, Che Fu, AJ Bell, Sola Rosa, Cloudboy and dozens of others. And some of the most exciting stuff came from bands on the margins infiltrating the mainstream. Take a bow, goodshirt, Voom and the Brunettes.

Mainstream radio had plenty of local talent to feed on thanks to stellar, the feelers and others. Yes, it was a good year in local music.

Neil Finn confirmed his status as the man we love to love by touring and playing with strangers, then settling in for a five-night stand at the St James with family and friends (who impressively included Eddie Vedder, two-fifths of Radiohead and others.) Highlight of the musical year? It's highly likely.

And when Apra, the songwriter's association, celebrated its 70th anniversary it invited submissions for best New Zealand song (won by Wayne Mason for Nature) and for a while we reflected on what a long and diverse pop culture we have.

If this exciting year of flourishing talent is anything to go by, the road goes on forever.

But there was a world out there and as nu-metal from America washed our shores (Linkin Park and others) there were also the quieter charms of albums by often alarmingly mature-sounding British outfits like Coldplay, Travis and Turin Brakes. Proof again you can't keep good melancholy down.

Then there was the weirdness: Mariah went dotty; the most short-fuse man in rock, Henry Rollins, came for the Laugh! Festival; Elton John released his best album in years by sounding like Elton of 30 years ago; New Order rocketed back into fashion unexpectedly; and the Manic Street Preachers went to Havana to rock Cuba and get a video.

Aaliyah went to the Bahamas to shoot a video but didn't make it back. Her record company got the video, however. And, speaking of plane crashes, the musical Buddy came back to town again-again.

Michael Jackson confounded the pundits who said his album would be bigger and better than his critics expected when he released the very ordinary Invincible.

Sixty-year-old Bob Dylan also confounded by releasing his second consecutive terrific album, a feat not seen from His Bobness since some time back in the 70s.

Losing a Beatle to natural causes was also weird, it reminded a whole generation of its mortality.

Yes, there was a lot to deal with. Radiohead released two albums this year, and there were rock movies like Almost Famous and Rock Star (dance got Kevin and Perry Go Large in Ibiza). But while shock bands like Slipknot commanded lots of column centimetres, like Marilyn Manson before them, they sold fewer albums than their media profile would have suggested.

Oh, but right at year's-end Kylie released one of those irritatingly brilliant singles. Vacuous pop was made cool again after years of identikit boy bands and singing boob tubes. Hoorah for catchy pop in these troubled times.

And, of course, September 11 changed the musical landscape in the States. Some American bands are reluctant to tour now; uplifting ballads and all-star fundraiser-tribute shows have become commonplace; and well-intentioned people who should have known better committed musical atrocity on Marvin Gaye's What's Going On in the name of peace, love, Aids and Third World Debt - or something.

Musicians who previously worried only about the cut of their dress or next headline have become earnest patriots and artists spoke meaningfully about how the events would certainly influence their music.

Watch out for the New Seriousness next year. Oh dear. Looks like we might have to rely on our own again and this year proved we certainly can.

2001 – The year in review