Bligh is the mystery man
Rmike.alexander@fairfaxmedia.co.nz CHRISTOPHER BLIGH is a musical pioneer in more ways than one.
The name might not instantly ring a bell but he has a fan base and network to be envied, and one that has grown over the past three decades and allowed him the ‘‘luxury’’ of working fulltime as a professional musician. The secret to his success? Hard work, discipline and an abiding love of all forms of music combined with the sheer joy of lifting the spirits of his audience, many of whom aren’t in a position to get out and about.
Six days a week he follows the same routine – he packs his equipment, including a lighting rig, into his sedan and sets off for the first of what is normally three gigs a day at retirement villages, rest homes, mental health facilities, or wherever his network of contacts require.
‘‘It’s amazing, I have been incredibly fortunate to be able to make a living out of music. When I first started working with aged facilities, the idea was that it was going to be be a stepping stone to other venues,’’ Bligh says. ‘‘I was able to develop it into a fulltime job. I amprobably the busiest musician in new Zealand who not many people have heard of.
‘‘The perception is that they are elderly people and they are not paying attention so it is a very easy gig. The reality is that my audience has changed over the decades. The people coming through these facilities are now baby boomers and they are younger than I am. They want to hear rock’n’roll. I am predominantly doing 1950s and 1960s standards and dance music. There is also a lot of demand for the 1970s as well – the Eagles and Eric Clapton are always popular.
‘‘Since I have been doing this I have been encouraged to use music to bring people together. It was a bold move to go fulltime with it but I marketed myself very hard the first few years and built up a solid and very loyal fanbase. It just grew from there.
It’s a far cry from the time when Bligh’s family moved from England to west Auckland and his first serious venture into music – as the bass player for one of New Zealand’s iconic punk bands, The Dum Dum Boys.
There was nothing sedate or nostalgic about their live shows. They were rebellious, noisy and often attracted the attention of the police to their gigs. The title track of their debut album, Let There Be Noise, is still regarded as an anthem of the times.
‘‘The Dum Dum Boys was a crazy time,’’ Bligh says. ‘‘The spectacle of our gigs was as much a part of who we were as our music was. We were smashing guitars on stage. At one gig we even smashed a TV on stage with a guitar. It was pretty insane. The singer, Tony Collins, was into Iggy Pop and used to cut himself on stage so when the TV was smashed he grabbed a piece of glass and proceeded to cut himself. It was very theatrical.’’
When Bligh left the band before they recorded their second album and then morphed into The Henchmen, he took time out and returned to his homeland. A decade later, he was back in New Zealand and plotting the path he is now on with his personal and musical partner at the time in the duo The Melody Makers.
Bligh went solo in 1993 and has subsequently released three solo albums, the latest of which, The Mystery Man, subtly references his own, unconventional musical and creative journey.
‘‘Every audience is different,’’ he says, ‘‘I have learned to tailor my performance to their needs. The sheer volume of work I have is a testament to the success of that. The power of music is incredible. I walk into some places and the atmosphere is a bit depressed but by the time I have left an hour later, the energy has lifted.
‘‘The working title of my latest album was actually The Everyman because it represented a character who has lived a little bit and has experienced the ups and downs of life. I changed it to The Mystery Man because I think we all have a bit of mystery in us.’’