(Translated from my original Italian text by ChatGPT and Piero Scaruffi)

Graeme Downes’ Verlaines exemplify the erudition and austerity that permeate New Zealand pop. In their hands, the “little song” becomes a composition as serious as a piece of classical music, as deep as a poem by Verlaine.

Formed in 1981, after an initial EP they released the single Death And The Maiden (1984), featuring a minute-long, out-of-tune organ solo that seems to parody Iron Butterfly’s In A Gadda Da Vida or the Doors’ Light My Fire. The EP Ten O'Clock In The Afternoon (Flying Nun, 1985) is their artistic manifesto: Joed Out openly declares their love for the beat—the unspoiled beat of the early ’60s—but the rough, brash sound of Baud To Tears hints that punk rock hasn’t passed in vain (nor has Elvis Costello). The sprightly drive of You Say You recalls the Feelies, but with occasional atonal events scattered throughout. The true masterpiece is Burlesque, which continuously breaks the rhythm without ever losing it, interspersing a weak, off-tempo organ solo. Downes reshapes pop more radically than the Chills or the Clean, and for this he would face longer marginalization. The early singles and EPs were collected on Juvenilia (1987).

On the album Halleluja All The Way Home (Slash, 1985), Downes’ oboe makes an appearance, but it is a transitional record that does not fully exploit the insights of the EP.

It is rather Bird-Dog (Slash, 1987) that pushes further: the songs are simple and understated, with a melancholy that goes beyond twilight and brushes the pathological, yet each is adorned with a more noble instrument—wind, strings, or piano—beyond the conventional rock trio. Combined with the always slightly oblique rhythms (thanks to drummer Robbie Yeats), understated yet so irregular that they become protagonists, and with erudite lyrics, this approach produces an almost “alienating” effect.

Thus Makes No Difference moves forward weakly and uncertainly but is punctuated by a horn and harmonica; the sparkling chorus of Dippy's Last Trip is driven by a saloon-style piano; the bassoons propel the Bonzo Dog Band-style novelty of Icarus Missed; up to the grand finale of C.D. Jimmy Jazz And Me, a Richman-esque nursery rhyme that nevertheless deploys almost a full orchestra, resulting in a series of symphonic metamorphoses.

The most striking effect, though almost embarrassing, is the 1950s-style female chorus (bassist Jane Dodd and Caroline Easther), skillfully used in You Forget Love, one of his innocent beat songs, and in Just Mum, a tender sermon from a shy adolescent (yet with lyrics worthy of a philosophical essay). Downes’ crazed crooning over the Feelies-style feverish cadences of Slow Sad Love Song, the waltz-paced lullaby of Only Dream Left, and the childlike chant over the measured rhythm and blues of the title track mark him as a musical genius capable of the boldest juxtapositions.

The subsequent albums are less versatile and eccentric. Some Disenchanted Evening (Flying Nun, 1990), featuring Jesus What A Jerk and The Funniest Thing, and Ready To Fly (Slash, 1991), with the exquisite Tremble, Gloom Junky, and Such As I (but also with a few overly elaborate orchestral arrangements), fail to repeat that earlier miracle, although gradually they helped cement Downes’ reputation as New Zealand’s most erudite singer-songwriter.

Way Out Where (Slash, 1993), which adds a second guitar to the lineup, marks a return to a more spontaneous, almost rock-and-roll style, and showcases a couple of their most successful tracks: Mission Of Love and I Stare Out.

In 1994, Downes earned his degree with a thesis on Mahler.

The Verlaines returned with Pot Boiler (2007), Corporate Moronic (2009), and Untimely Meditations (2012). The Verlaines dissolved after Dunedin Spleen (2019).