Chilled out about the band’s future
Martin Phillipps had a year to live but a wonder drug saved him and he’s determined to make the most of it, finds Jack Barlow.
Martin Phillipps is one of New Zealand’s great rock and roll survivors. The Chills’ frontman has experienced soaring highs and the deepest, darkest lows in nearly four decades as one of the country’s finest songwriters.
Not long ago, he was told he had only a year to live. His liver was shot by the combined effects of hepatitis C and booze. Saved by a last-ditch wonder drug, the 55-year-old has plunged into a hectic schedule. Not that he’d necessarily say it, but there’s a sense of him making up for lost time.
‘‘I’m in a pretty good space at the moment,’’ he says. ‘‘It’s been full-on all year. As soon as recording for the new album finished we were straight on to artwork and tour plans.
‘‘We’re still trying to put together an exact route for the American and European tours, which are looking to be probably early next year instead of late this year.’’
The idea of Phillipps being this busy would have seemed absurd a decade ago.
The Chills’ story is well known, but it bears repeating; along with a host of other Dunedin bands on the Flying Nun label, they emerged in the early 1980s with a sophisticated, jangly pop sound that made them instant critical favourites. They toured overseas, played sessions for British DJ John Peel, and signed an international record deal in 1990.
Their biggest single, the aptly-named Heavenly
Pop Hit, came in 1990. And while later albums were critical hits, they never quite paved the way for wider success.
With a fluctuating lineup and frustrated ambitions, the band’s momentum stalled, and Phillipps descended into a world of drugs and booze. The band disbanded and re-emerged with a different lineup, but it was no use.
In 1996, their fourth album Sunburnt was to be the last Chills album for 19 years.
The effects of his time in the wilderness are still very much with him; after accidentally getting pricked by an infected needle he contracted hepatitis C, the disease that nearly killed him.
‘‘At the moment I’ve got really good energy, but I’m keeping an eye on my health,’’ he says. ‘‘It’s going to be there for the rest of my life.’’
As the slump continued, things looked bleak. Yet while Phillipps was out of action, his band’s reputation grew. He could even see it happening, but was in no position to capitalise.
‘‘It was immensely frustrating,’’ he says. ‘‘There were numerous times it felt hopeless. There were some real dark times with health issues and depression and drugs, and all the usual stuff – obviously, when you’re in that kind of state the last thing people want to do is invest time and money in you. It becomes a kind of self-fulfilling destiny, really.’’
But he never stopped creating – or believing. ‘‘It’s been quite remarkable and … while I’d never sort of given up, I didn’t see things working on quite this level again.’’
Phillipps’ – and, therefore, The Chills’ – first big steps out of hibernation came with Molten Gold in 2013, and Silver Bullets two years later completed the comeback. They made the most of it, playing some of the biggest shows of their career almost two decades after their last international tour.
‘‘I was nervous because I wasn’t sure physically how I’d hold up to the process of singing night after night,’’ Phillipps says, ‘‘so we built in new rules; we wouldn’t play more than three nights in a row without a definite day off singing. But I got through fine, it was great.’’
The Chills have always had a bit of a revolving lineup – by some counts there have been
20 versions of the band – with Phillipps as the sole original member.
The current version has been relatively stable, and Phillipps says the latest resurgence has given the other bandmembers a well-deserved chance to tour overseas.
‘‘We actually toured twice internationally over the past few years, and the band that’s stuck with me for close to 20 years now has finally got to do that,’’ he says. ‘‘They got to bring The Chills’ story into the present, as opposed to being all about something that happened back in the 80s and 90s. It was a real release.’’
A heavy helping of new material has erased any notion of a nostalgia kick. A new album, Snow Bound, will be released in September.
‘‘When Silver Bullets came out people sort of thought, ‘oh, good on him for putting out one more album after all this time’, but now there’s another one which, I think, people are agreeing is even better. People are realising it’s an ongoing story, not just closing chapters.’’
Phillipps is thoughtful and philosophical about the changes the music industry and society have gone through since he first came to prominence in the 1980s. There’s no yearning for the past.
‘‘Back in the 80s we were in our 20s and had the exuberance of breaking new ground, of being part of a kind of movement.
‘‘All around the world there were a lot of bands not a million miles away from what we were doing, a post-punk kind of movement. And that was exciting.
‘‘These days it’s different. It’s no longer quite so unexpected. I even get called an elder statesman of rock now, which is quite weird – I’m 55 now so it’s inevitable – but it means you are able to draw on your experiences and comment on things you see recurring.’’
A lot of inspiration for Snow Bound has come from growing up.