It’s not a particularly well known fact, but throughout that decade we slightly cringingly remember as the ’80s, there was something of a Kiwi Invasion of the Australian music scene. Barry Saunders played a role as Mark Bell reveals.

Whether fleeing the lagging local scene or just plain ambitious, it seemed everywhere you looked our chaps were ripping the bag in Oz. Split Enz, Dragon, Jenny Morris, Noiseworks, The Swingers, Dave Dobbyn, and while these artists were copping all the accolades, there were also iceberg-like depths of ‘next cab off the rank’ bands, many featuring Kiwis in their line-ups, grinding their way around the endless dusty countryside in search of their own moment in the (April) sun.

It’s to this category that a polished new wave outfit called The Tigers belonged, and though he may not have been aware of it at the time, behind frontman Barry Saunders‘ slick and mannered vocal delivery, there was another voice patiently waiting for its moment in the sun.

With the demise of the Tigers, Saunders returned to New Zealand and hitched his wagon to the outfit that still looms large in his life – The Warratahs, beginning the metamorphosis into what we now recognise as Barry Saunders – country singer/songwriter. As transitions go it was quite a leap, requiring not only the learning of untold subtle nuances that mark out a good country singer, but also un-learning the habits of years spent delivering pop rock to woozy punters in countless Aussie booze barns.

The early Warratahs’ recordings point to the fact that this was no overnight transition, Saunders’ delivery coming off a little forced into a style he was not yet fully conversant with. This is not to negate the success of early singles like Maureen, which may even have benefitted in terms of crossover appeal from Saunders’ Buddy Holly-meets-Slim Dusty delivery.

But time makes a wine as the saying goes, and with his latest (2002) solo outing ‘Red Morning’, his first since 1998’s ‘Magnetic South’, that distinctive Saunders voice has matured into a soulful, believable and expressive instrument. Vintage Saunders no less.

He’s on the line from home – when he’s not galavanting about the country with The Warratahs – in the Wairarapa, mulling over my observation that his vocals sound totally bedded in the music this time around, very relaxed and natural.

“With this bunch of songs is I played them around the house for about a year with the guitar, and I think that’s exactly what happened. I played them for long enough to become part of them, rather than doing that studio thing where you go in and you start making an album. I knew the songs well and they were part of me before we went in to record them.”

What also impresses about ‘Red Morning’ is the undeniable influence producer David Long (ably assisted by Mike Gibson) has had on proceedings, with instruments like dobro, banjo, mandolin, strings, pedal steel and brass popping up all over the place. After years of steering the wagon himself, Saunders had no hesitation in handing over the reigns to Long.

“I enjoy being around someone else, I enjoy input. If you really think about it, it’s a strange alliance, but he was so into sounds and guitars and songs, it was a great experience.”

As to any trepidation he says, “I think this album’s put me over the hurdle of that control thing. When you make an album you really do have to throw things in the air.”

“I’ve listened to quite a few albums recently and you can feel it’s been done with abandon, and I like to keep that word in the back of my head a bit and just throw it in the air. If you don’t like where it comes down you can always not do it. If you try and control it from the front it’s never going to have any spirit, so that’s a hurdle I’ve got over.”

The Muttonbirds connection does not stop at Long, with drummer Ross Burge adding his impeccable style to five tracks. Longtime offsiders Caroline Easther, Clint Brown, David Donaldson and Alan Norman (drums, bass, upright bass and accordian respectively) are the ever-reliable foil to Saunders’ no-frills acoustic, and it is around this rock-solid core that Long has added the splashes of colour that give the songs so much life.

One of the standout moments is the stunning pedal steel playing on Bay of Blue, a paean to the 12 years Saunders lived on the wild coast of Cook Strait at Breaker Bay. Saunders enthuses about the man behind the shimmering solo – ex-pat American Winnie Winstone.

“He’s great, he lives in the Hutt and I believe he used to play with Dylan years ago. He’s just got a beautiful touch, he’s the real thing. He sat down and played that song (Bay of Blue). I wasn’t there, and when I heard it back I thought, ‘Man, what a performance’. It sounds like the guy’s got hundreds of miles of playing steel under his belt.”

A less technologically-minded person you could not hope to meet, but I did manage to glean from Saunders that the album was laid down over about a month at Inca Studios in the old SIS building in Wellington, recorded initially on tape and then transferred to ProTools. He describes Inca as “… quite an urban environment, because I’ve always recorded my stuff out in the country or in formal studios, and this was just a room really.”

As with the production, Saunders was quite happy to step back from the mixing process and let Long and Gibson get on with it.
“I wasn’t there for a lot of that,” he says, “because I’ve got no concentration span. I lose it after half an hour and don’t even know what I’m listening to. I just wanted the songs to talk, and when we heard them back there was actually very little we had to discuss. In many ways it made itself – we were pretty at one with the sort of thing we were trying to do.”

With the wanderlust apparently undiminished, it’s anyone’s guess where he’ll be doing his next album.
“I’d like to work with David again actually,” he says, “and I’d like to go somewhere else and make an album. I don’t even know where, Kapiti Island or somewhere. I like going places, I like the idea of music taking you places.”

‘Red Morning’ is released on Mana Music.