By Eleni P. Austin
Back when “Don’t Dream It’s Over” hit the airwaves in 1986, it sounded like nothing else on Top 40 radio. A gorgeous Pop confection with just enough bite to be considered New Wave, it was the debut single from Crowded House. It eventually climbed the charts, beset on all sides by cookie-cutter crap like Starship’s “Nothing’s Going To Stop Us Now,” Chris DeBurgh’s lugubrious “Lady In Red” and Club Nouveau’s pointless cover of Bill Withers’ classic “Lean On Me.”
The New Zealand three-piece, which included Neil Finn on lead vocals and guitar, Paul Hester on drums and Nick Seymour on bass, had only been a going concern for one year. But Neil, the band’s primary songwriter, had been working toward this moment for more than a decade.
The youngest of four, Neil grew up in Te Awamutu, New Zealand, idolizing his older brother, Tim. Having mastered piano and guitar by age 12, he set his sights on a career in music. Tim and Phil Judd had already formed Split Enz in 1972, but the band didn’t achieve worldwide success until Phil left the band and Neil joined their ranks. He wrote their breakthrough hit, “I Got You,” as well as “Six Months In A Leaky Boat,” “History Repeats” and “One Step Ahead.” When Tim went solo, Neil took the reins. But Split Enz’ days were numbered, they called it quits in 1984.
Split Enz drummer Paul Hester threw in his lot with Neil and once they recruited Nick Seymour the puzzle pieces fell into place and Crowded House was born. Their self-titled debut, produced by Mitchell Froom, arrived in 1986, and it reached #12 on the Billboard Top 200. Their sound was the potent combo-platter of smart lyrics and concise melodies anchored by indelible hooks. His crisp sense of songcraft drew favorable comparisons to Lennon & McCartney, as well as Difford & Tilbrook (the brilliant blokes behind Squeeze).
Their sophomore album, 1988’s Temple Of The Low Men, doubled down on the winning formula of the first record. cementing their popularity. Neil and his brother Tim began working on a fraternalside project, but the songs were so good, Neil asked Tim to officially join Crowded House. Woodface, released in 1991, was their most assured effort to date and included sparkling gems like “Fall At Your Feet,” “Weather With You” and “Four Seasons In One Day.” But it was just a one-off for Tim. He resumed his solo career, and the band was back to a trio, augmented by multi-instrumentalist Mark for 1993’s Together Alone.” After more than a decade together, Crowded House called it a day in 1996.
Neil spent the next several years juggling a solo career, fronting a musical collective called 7 Worlds Collide and recording with Tim as The Finn Brothers. Sadly, Paul Hester died by suicide in 2005. Crowded House regrouped with drummer Matt Sherrod and recorded two albums, Time On Earth and Intriguer in 2007 and 2010, respectively. When Fleetwood Mac and Lindsey Buckingham (not so amicably) parted ways in 2018, the venerable band tapped both Mike Campbell, guitarist for Tom Petty’s Heartbreakers, and Neil to take Lindsey’s place on tour.
Crowded House reconvened in 2020. The current line-up includes Neil and Nick, along with Neil’s sons Liam on guitar and Elroy on drums, plus producer Mitchell Froom on keys. They released Dreamers Waiting in 2021 and have just returned with their eighth long-player, Gravity Stairs.
The record opens with the airy “Magic Piano.” If it were possible for Pink Floyd and The Beach Boys to have a musical baby, it might sound like this. Lush harmonies wash over descending piano notes, strummy acoustic guitar, loose-limbed bass and a shuddery beat. Mordant lyrics like “I began to sense my own weight walking up the gravity stairs, bells ringing in the temple above, the piano was playing itself…these are the dark forces now, making shadows dance on the dark stairway, who’s that joker with the crooked smile? In the car that speeds away,” wrestle with mortality. The mood lifts on the break as warbly Mellotron notes dance around plaintive piano.
Although Neil has always been the band’s chief songwriter, these days, Crowded House is truly a family affair. Liam co-wrote “The Howl” with his dad and Elroy wrote “Blurry Grass.” The former blends jingle-jangle guitars, swirly keys, darting bass lines and a propulsive beat. Paradoxical lyrics offer up a jumble of emotions: “Underwater I’m the land, and I don’t want to be alone, but I could never love again, no surprise it’s a groundhog day, learn your lines, they’re all the same tonight/Find your bark then you leave, well, I can’t see the forest for the trees, give me time to be calm, but beware when I’m baring my teeth.” A barbed guitar solo on the break underscores the ambivalence.
The latter is a sleek see-saw powered by rippling guitars, ticklish keys, trip-wire bass lines and a hopscotching beat. Conversational lyrics find a romantic relationship at an impasse thanks to an illicit attraction: “You’ve got a feeling, it’s not for sure, but I can’t help you figure it out, there’s no excuses and nothing has changed, but I won’t tell you what it’s about, am I ever going to get that thought from my bed, you say it’s passion, what you’d imagine, you’ve seen a ghost.” Frisky falsetto harmonies and skittery guitar pinball across the break.
The best songs on the record toggle between Crowded House’s classic, open-hearted sound, and styles that feel more cosmopolitan and quirky. Take “Thirsty,” which weds sun-dappled acoustic guitar, keening electric guitars, plangent keys, nimble bass lines to a brushed, shuffle-beat. Up until now, Neil’s buoyant still-boyish-tenor has been swathed in filial harmonies, but here, it’s right up front. Cryptic lyrics navigate the rocky shoals of romance: “When love comes early, handsome, burly, looks you in the eye…we are more than what is spoken, let the silence be unbroken, there are mountains of resistance, they are melting all that distance.” Soaring guitars fold into quicksilver keys on the break.
“Some Greater Plan (For Claire)” tilts in a Byzantine direction thanks to cascading bouzoukis that lattice atop pliant keys, protean guitars, flinty bass and a loping beat. Tender lyrics manifest a personal panacea to combat these combustible days: “We gave up the world somehow, now we better start believing, if that’s all we can do to fill the room with a song of love/I’ll sing it if you want, to feel a part of some greater plan, do you want to heal the heart of this broken man?” Shimmering bouzoukis unspool on the outro, adding a bit of Hellenic heft.
On “Teenage Summer” (which was originally called “Life’s Imitation”), gauzy acoustic guitars cloak spiraling electric riffs, revved-up bass, feathery keys and an elastic back-beat. Lyrics limn the frustration of missed connections and cross purposes: “My words alight, like paper drifting through the sky, not enough to be a witness of your life all along, I was hoping we would come of age/Walking around you, I want to surround you, but I can’t get close enough, can’t get close enough, I wanted to find you, wanted to break through life’s imitation.” The arrangement achieves lift-off, employing a monster hook that builds to a crescendo, creating a vibe that’s equal parts hopeful and bittersweet as Neil finally finds his mantra: “Are we gonna to have some teenage summer, are we gonna have some mad some mad new year, are we going to have some teenage summer, am I gonna have some mad idea.”
Finally, “I Can’t Keep Up With You” is a breathless whirly-gig powered by slashing guitars, tensile bass, icy keys and a ramshackle beat. The prickly arrangement echoes the artier (Sparks-ier), side of Split Enz. Apparently chasing a muse is the ultimate aphrodisiac: “I hate to fake my state of mind, for the keys to your heart, my mind, my brain, the Marquis de Sade, mystified.” Bloopy keys fuse with clanky guitars giving the track an almost industrial edge, before it suddenly shudders to a stop.
Other interesting tracks include the monochrome vignette of “Black Water, White Circle,” then there’s the first single, “Oh Hi,” which was inspired by Neil’s work with “So They Can” a charity that builds schools in Kenya and Tanzania. Meanwhile, “All That I Can Ever Own” is a sideways homage to the terror and magnificence that accompanies parenthood.
The album ends on an ambitious note with “Night Song.” The track opens with circular keys and some wordless vocalese before being supplanted by twinkly cocktail piano, a thwocking beat and Neil’s tender croon. The blithe arrangement echoes ‘80s peers like Thomas Dolby, The Blue Nile and Prefab Sprout, but just as it establishes a vibe, it quickly shifts gears. A cantering Cowpoke gait is accented by swoony guitars and twitchy keys. The third part of this melodic triptych is dense and intricate, as bendy guitar notes intertwine percolating piano and an accelerated beat. It leans hard on a Steely Dan-meets-Stevie Wonder groove. All the while, Neil’s beatific vocals drift toward heavenly heights, underscored by Zoe Moon’s symbiotic harmonies. Something of a restless farewell, lyrics like “I owe my thanks to you for everything, remembering you got me so inspired, felt so lonely when I passed your gate, round the corner, but then it’s too late to say thank you,” are shot through with gratitude and regret. It’s a trippy end to an alluring album.
Gravity Stairs isn’t as accessible as past efforts. This is one of those records that reveals new colors and textures with each listen. The band has jettisoned their signature sound which juxtaposed majestic hooks with melancholy lift. This time around, Crowded House takes us on a more meandering ride, filled with detours and digressions. It’s less about the destination and all about the journey.
