In Their Command
I decided to drop off a roll of film via the Vanbar after-hours chute today. Whilst driving, I generally listen to a CD or occasionally, one of my many old cassette tapes. This morning on my way out, I took my copy of Together Alone – the last studio album Crowded House recorded before their break-up. I don’t listen to this album very often anymore. Yet when it was first released, I think I listened to it daily. And I vividly remember spending curriculum days alone in the house, slipping the tape into the deck, planting myself on the floor next to our stereo and turning the volume way up.
As I said, I don’t listen to this album terribly often these days. Yet if you were to ask me what my favourite record was, this is it without a doubt (Woodface probably comes a very close second). Thirteen years after it came out, listening to it is still an experience that’s hard to do justice to and I still attach the memory of many events directly back to it. The album was recorded at the house of Nigel and Judy Horrocks at the remote beach of Kare Kare, about half an hour out of Auckland on New Zealand’s north island. Film buffs will be aware that this is also where Jane Campion filmed The Piano. Locals apparently say that living there is like living at the very edge of the earth. And while you listen to Together Alone, you may as well be.

It’s been said that the period during this album’s recording was pretty fraught and conflicted. From the sombre band photos on the inlay to the tracks themselves, this is readily acknowledged. The opening track “Kare Kare” is lush and beautiful, conjuring up images of the wild, isolated nature of the beach itself. It was also the very first song I ever heard the band play live, and I hope that even if my memories do begin to fade with age, that one never does. The jolting “In My Command” starts out as just that, but towards its end, aided by the powerful voices of the Te Waka Huia choir, becomes something entirely different. Stories about who “Black And White Boy” was actually written for, are variable. I’ve heard it said that it was written for Neil Finn’s dalmation, Lester. Others push the idea that it was written for Paul Hester. Listening to the words, both theories are equally plausible. Regardless, it’s a song that fills a room, combining jarring guitars with a sweet melody over the top.
Because I have the album on cassette, I still tend to think of it as being divided into two stark halves. The latter half begins with the rollicking “Locked Out”, followed by the disquieting and ominous “Private Universe.” The gorgeous “Distant Sun” leads in seamlessly to “Catherine Wheels.” You can really hear Tim Finn’s influence on this track, and the way in which it morphs between its distinct sections reminds me of the way a sonata would shift from one movement to another. Not a great analogy, but my point might become clearer in the listening. The majestic and bittersweet title track closes the album, complete with full choir, log drummers and brass band that give it such a firm sense of finality.
Paul Hester once famously remarked that, “It’s pretty stupid comparing us to the Beatles. There were four of them. There’s only three of us.” To my mind, Together Alone proves why Crowded House are actually better.
As I said, I don’t listen to this album terribly often these days. Yet if you were to ask me what my favourite record was, this is it without a doubt (Woodface probably comes a very close second). Thirteen years after it came out, listening to it is still an experience that’s hard to do justice to and I still attach the memory of many events directly back to it. The album was recorded at the house of Nigel and Judy Horrocks at the remote beach of Kare Kare, about half an hour out of Auckland on New Zealand’s north island. Film buffs will be aware that this is also where Jane Campion filmed The Piano. Locals apparently say that living there is like living at the very edge of the earth. And while you listen to Together Alone, you may as well be.

It’s been said that the period during this album’s recording was pretty fraught and conflicted. From the sombre band photos on the inlay to the tracks themselves, this is readily acknowledged. The opening track “Kare Kare” is lush and beautiful, conjuring up images of the wild, isolated nature of the beach itself. It was also the very first song I ever heard the band play live, and I hope that even if my memories do begin to fade with age, that one never does. The jolting “In My Command” starts out as just that, but towards its end, aided by the powerful voices of the Te Waka Huia choir, becomes something entirely different. Stories about who “Black And White Boy” was actually written for, are variable. I’ve heard it said that it was written for Neil Finn’s dalmation, Lester. Others push the idea that it was written for Paul Hester. Listening to the words, both theories are equally plausible. Regardless, it’s a song that fills a room, combining jarring guitars with a sweet melody over the top.
Because I have the album on cassette, I still tend to think of it as being divided into two stark halves. The latter half begins with the rollicking “Locked Out”, followed by the disquieting and ominous “Private Universe.” The gorgeous “Distant Sun” leads in seamlessly to “Catherine Wheels.” You can really hear Tim Finn’s influence on this track, and the way in which it morphs between its distinct sections reminds me of the way a sonata would shift from one movement to another. Not a great analogy, but my point might become clearer in the listening. The majestic and bittersweet title track closes the album, complete with full choir, log drummers and brass band that give it such a firm sense of finality.
Paul Hester once famously remarked that, “It’s pretty stupid comparing us to the Beatles. There were four of them. There’s only three of us.” To my mind, Together Alone proves why Crowded House are actually better.
1 Comments:
Together Alone is definitely desert (or dessert) island material and deserves to be revisited.
Distant Sun houses one of my favourite lyrics: I don't pretend to know what you want, but I offer love.
I love that you have it on tape too :D
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