Reviews

City Beat Magazine

Headline:    Flic My Bic

Bi-line:        

Get to the Lilith Fair early to see New Zealand's Bic Runga do things her way

Issue:    CityBeat, Vol. 4, Issue 37; August 6-12, 1998

Reviewer:    DAVID SIMUTIS

Website:    http://www.citybeat.com/archives/1998/issue437/music.html

Date:   August 6 - 12, 1998

While American stars are swarmed by fans and paparazzi when they try to go to the grocery store, things are done a bit differently when you are a Pop star in New Zealand.

A multiplatinum selling artist in her home country, Bic Runga acts as if success has had no effect on her daily life -- because it hasn't. The way she tells it, nobody treats her special just because people buy her records.

"We don't do that sort of thing in New Zealand," she says when asked if she is given the star treatment. "We don't put our stars on a pedestal. We're a bit too cynical for that. I think it comes from the fact that most of the stars we see on television come from overseas, and so the local stars don't seem to carry the same amount of weight with the public."

On her debut, Drive (Columbia), the 21-year-old Runga wrote, produced and played many of the instruments herself. A confident Pop record, Runga's powerful and lilting voice is the centerpiece. Equal parts folky singer-songwriter and powerful riot grrrl, it is the voice of delicacy but not fragility.

For instance, on the soaring, "Hey," she swings between howling and a breathy, intimate intonation. The snapping drums and Runga's intense singing on "Swim" cross with the watery and dirty guitars, helping to make this a more furious record than most of the nuevo-folkies on the Lilith stages this year. It's an intense, forceful record, shaped by a person who sees no shame in being a control freak.

"I don't think there is anything wrong with (being a control freak)," she explains. "There are negative connotations about being a control freak, but I make Bic Runga albums and there's nothing clever about them, they're just Bic Runga albums -- but they are all mine. There are so many other things that you don't have any control over when you release a record, things like promotion, video shoots and photo shoots.

"The music is the only thing that you can control, so I do it wholeheartedly," she laughs.

While the songs gravitate toward straightforward showcases for her singing, the textures of strings and drum machines are not afterthoughts, but the result of pre-production help from Peter Asher (10,000 Maniacs, Diana Ross, Neil Diamond). According to Runga, Asher came in and provided guidance, but let her do things her own way.

"He was really great," she remembers. "He flew all the way out to New Zealand to help with the pre-production. We were rehearsing in this crappy little studio in Auckland and I had barely met him and he came in and sat down on the floor with his legs crossed. It was just an excellent vibe. As soon as he walked in the room, I realized what it was about him that made him such a good producer. It was his presence. He has a way of making you know that he knows more than you without telling you, which is what being a producer is all about."

For her showcase at this year's South by Southwest in Austin, Texas, Runga played to a full house at a small club. Hiding behind her Acoustic guitar, she seemed shy and ill at ease in the spotlight. Looking at her feet in between songs, she demurred a few thank-yous but offered little else in terms of insight. Like another diminutive performer, Bjšrk, who used to only look comfortable mid-song, Runga has yet to find her footing onstage, but her songs are so pretty and engaging that the crowd roots for her. And by the end of her 45 minutes, Runga looked almost as if she were enjoying herself. She laughs when I remind her that she looked at her shoes in between songs.

"Those things are really hard, because I was playing acoustically and I'm used to playing in bands," she says. "I've got sort of a strange relationship with playing live. It's kind of humiliating, but there's nothing wrong with it. There's nothing wrong with humiliation. It's just a strange thing to want to put yourself through, that's all. I don't know why anyone would want to do it really."

The headlining spot on the third stage at this year's Lilith Fair is the kind of opportunity for a young debut artist which sounds great on paper. She'll be a part of the most ballyhooed tour of the year, she'll gain touring experience and she'll be in front of the kind of crowd most likely to be interested in her music. But in reality she will be one of the most exotic performers, a relative unknown and, worst of all, she will be performing starting at 5:20 p.m. for 20 minutes, playing until the first act on the main stage goes on.

Runga, for her part, has no delusions about the kind of exposure the Lilith tour will bring her. Performing such a short set is a blessing, she thinks.

"I guess it's a case of conveying the songs as they were written, and it's going to be quite stripped back. Twenty minutes is a good length. People don't get too sick of you."

In the short term, she will head off to Europe and Australia after a week with the Lilith tour. But Runga is already thinking down the road. Her next album has begun to ferment in her head and, while she admits to liking traditional songwriting, she plans to take things to a different place.

"The most important thing is to make a departure from the debut," Runga says. "Most of the songs are 4 years old to me. It takes a long time to promote one record. All the best artists keep extending themselves and inventing themselves if they want to have a career of it."

BIC RUNGA plays the third stage at Lilith Fair on Saturday at Riverbend.