Tim Finn - Tim Finn

Tim Finn, founding father of Split Enz, occasional member of Crowded House and half of The Finn Brothers with little brother Neil and a fairly odd but incredibly cool album by ALT (with Andy White and Liam O Maonlai) back in '95. It's weird, not a bad weird, just weird that I came to Tim Finn's solo work backassward through his association with little brother Neil. Of course I knew of Split Enz, and dang it I loved "Shark Attack" and thought "Six Months in a Leaky Boat" were awesome, but on balance I liked Neil's songs better. Those first two Crowded House records only cemented that opinion for me. When Neil and Tim turned what was to be a Finn Brothers record into Woodface I was still drawn to Neil, but I had to admit Tim was pretty cool ... maybe I was missing out.

Me being me, which is to say a borderline compulsive, I started looking for Tim's solo work. I found his debut from '83 which was okay, and I kept going and going. Of his solo work it's only the last couple I don't have actual physical copies, that's okay I have enough ... unless I find them. Maybe Neil will send them to me, ha ha ha (insert more ha ha ha's here).

I've not listened to Tim for a long time. The last album I bought by Mister Finn was Imaginary Kingdom back in 2006. Good Lord where does the time go? Here I am now, because I found a couple of copies of his 1989 self titled album when I was flipping through the bins at Redrum (they take my money, I get records. We have a codependent relationship). I decided to buy the slightly more expensive Specialty Records Corporation pressing, as if that made a difference. Well, it made a difference - it was a few bucks more. But it was also in better condition, so that's really what made the difference. Since I already have this on CD, a mint condition CD at that, why get it at all?

Bigger liner notes.

I've always liked this album and when I think of Tim's solo work I tend to rank this as his best work. Objectively it isn't. Subjectively it is. It's complicated. For me I think it boils down to hearing much of his work in order, and while his debut was okay (it was good, I just listened to it as a refresher and it sent me down a rathole) I really thought Big Canoe was ambitious and incredibly cool (yes, can confirm ... same rathole different tunnel) even if it was at times a challenging listen. Then he dropped his self titled album, and like some of the Crowded House records it was produced by Mitchell Froom who seemed to be able to bring out the best in Neil's work, and as it happens - Tim. From the opening track "Young Mountain" there was something special going on, and the special just kept hitting one song after another.

The supporting band was so good. Tim Pierce on guitar, Tony Levin on bass, Mitchell Froom on keys, Alex Acuna on percussion and Jerry Marotta on drums. Brother Neil helped with backing vocals and guitar. There was just something special going on ... and for all this special what happened? Accolades and gold records?

Nope. 

For goodness sake a gold album in New Zealand is 7,500 copies ... it didn't go gold at home for the guy. I mean what the actual fuck (excuse the language, sorry, I meant to say duck, what the actual duck). How is that possible? While the album charted going as high as number eight, and in '89 he did pick up a couple of RIANZ Awards, which I'm guessing are the equivalent of a Canadian Juno. He won best male vocalist, and best songwriter for "Parihaka" actual sales were more elusive.

Well, that certainly took a turn. I think I got sidetracked immediately after mentioning the opening track, "Young Mountain" so I'll see if I can't reposition things. Music can be a wonderful Trojan horse and I am guilty of being too focused on the sparkly exterior and forget that there's also a cargo being delivered whether I am conscious of it or not.

One (me, I'm talking about me) can be forgiven (this is where I let myself off the hook, because, well I don't want to see like I'm superficially vacuous) that Tim the artist who in the early days of Split Enz where the music seemed to be the vehicle to deliver the performance art. At leasy that's how it seemed to me when I was a teenager in high school. Of course there were hints  that are obvious in hindsight, but at the time I was out of my depth.

I was only sort of kidding about the bigger liner notes comment. Yes, they were bigger but they were all in a different font, presented out of order but looked cool. The CD booklet, and yes, it was a pretty thick booklet is actually an easier read but it was the vinyl that finally got me to really sit and intentionally listen to this one. Of course having resources hitherto unavailable back in '89 only served to make the whole album a much deeper experience.

I know know "Parihaka" is about the origins of passive resistance to the colonial confiscation of Maori land in New Zealand. I'm also now aware of the backstory that was the subject of "Suicide on Downing St." and the tragic end to the life of "Derek Bainbridge" who took his life in 1988. I only found a couple of passing articles, and most seem to reference the song. It makes me think that if Tim had not eulogized his passing whether his death would have been in vain after all.

I am still drawn to the emotional centre of the music. The music for me, Trojan horse or not, has to have something to entice me to open myself to the song. There are so many good songs here, and I find that even though I am still drawn to songs like (but not limited to) "Not Even Close", "How'm I Gonna Sleep", "Tears Inside" and "Crescendo" because they were songs I had mined repeatedly for mix tapes, I've found another layer to the familiar songs that I was previously unaware of. A pretty cool trick for an album I've had for decades and always liked ... I just like it more, and frankly it's given me a new lens into a familiar artist who is finally managed to get his cargo through the gates.

"Things change so why can't I"