The new Strawpeople album features a duet starring a dead Ugandan dictator and the late Pope John Paul II. Paul Casserly, one half of the band, explains why.
Before I spill the beans on how it came to be that two rather dead and rather different historical figures came to sing a love duet on the new Strawpeople album Knucklebones, let me tell you about another unlikely contributor.
I was wandering through the aisles of fresh fruit and vege and bric-a-brac at Takapuna market one Sunday when the air was filled with something magnificent. A cinematic selection of guitar chords distracted me from the pressing mission of obtaining some Lángos, the Hungarian deep-fried bread made of flour and yeast and topped with pesto and tomato. Like all things deep-fried it is delicious.
As I emerged from behind a stall of iPhone covers and Bob Marley canvas bags and Pokemon keychains there he was. It was Luke Hurley and his guitar. I should have known. Enigmatic, cult legend, craftsman, artist? The right word is tricky to put a finger on because he is so singular and brilliant. I first heard him on student radio in the Eighties with an amazing song called Mona Lisa. His guitar playing is intricate, floral but chunky and sits on an edge.
Drawn to edges I approached Luke between songs and asked him to come play a session one day in the studio with a view to making something which became the basis for the track Busker.
Notorious Ugandan dictator Idi Amin and the late Pope John Paul II were not playing at the market that day. Also, they’re dead so I can’t exactly ask if they’d like to pop in the studio. But they do feature on a track together, a duet called Love Diktat.
Both are long dead of course and I don’t know if they’re hanging out together or are even in the same wing or floor or suburb of the afterlife. Or even, if I’m being honest, just how heaven and hell and the rainbow bridge works.
But let’s say that they are mates in the choir eternal, perhaps they’re both in a group therapy session. That would be a useful tool if you had all eternity to reassess your life. I intend to sign up immediately upon arrival.
The scene is coming to me. The Pope has tears welling up in his eyes as he talks of regrets about abuse and what have you, Meanwhile Idi is sneaking a shot on his vape as he waits his turn. Fun fact: he is now a committed Buddhist. You’re probably thinking that Budda and the douche flute sit at odds with each other but note that a Polish Pope was once considered at the extreme end of unlikely.
Back in the real world, or somewhere adjacent to it, I had the notion that no one chose to be a murderous dictator or complicit bureaucrat. We’re all of us, trying our best.
When I stumbled across one of the many strange broadcasts of Idi Amin making pronouncements, one stood out: “Everybody” he said, “must be loved”.
His Excellency, President for Life...
Years ago, while still at school, I made a recording, now long gone, of Pope John Paul II during his tour of Ireland, via a cassette tape my parents had. I had an old tape deck that allowed simple 2 track recording and had the Pope in one channel and a recording I had of the post punk band Public Image Limited in the other. It sounded terrible but I loved that the Pope and former Sex Pistol Johnny Rotten were sharing the stage.
So, I got the band back together. Rotten is gone, replaced by another bad apple, yes, a far worse apple, by the name of Idi. Or to use his full (self-bestowed) title: His Excellency, President for Life, Field Marshal Al Hajj Doctor Idi Amin Dada, Lord of all the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Sea and Conqueror of the British Empire in Africa. Apostle Bishop Brian Tamaki seems demure by comparison.
Idi did terrible things, I’m not suggesting otherwise, but his talk of love made him the perfect foil to my old faithful crooner of comforting yet unsettling words, John Paul II. Both have a tone to their voices that makes them otherworldly.
I’m not sure if the pairing will become as iconic as Sonny and Cher or Hudson and Halls or even Hudson and Halls and Oats.
It certainly won’t be competing with the majesty of Tammy Neilson and Willy Nelson and their glorious Beyond The Stars that’s for sure. And while I’m not ruling out the existence of a gleaming gem emerging from this album that will make its mark or become beloved by some.
Whatever emerges with the label “enduring” if we should be so lucky, will be accompanied by the vocal cords of my collaborator and friend Fiona McDonald. So if you do visit our new album (Yes vinyl is available thank you for asking!) by all means linger a while in the company of John Paul and Idi and for god's sake soak up some Luke Hurley and seek out his music but make sure you pay special attention to the songs with the shimmering sparkle of McDonald.
It was the voice that elevated one of my all-time favourite bands the Headless Chickens. Sure, they were amazing before Fiona joined but they reached new heights when she chimed in on Cruise Control and when she belted out her rage in their number one hit George. I’ve never heard a voice like it and she creates some more moments on this collection that should chill and delight you just as they do for me.
And if Idi and John Paul II can say yes to love, then surely, we all can.
*Paul Casserly is half of Strawpeople and also works for TVNZ.
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