Troye Kingi – The Ghost Of Freddie Cesar
(Allgood Absolute Alternative Records Ltd)
Reviewed by Tim Gruar.
When I caught up with actor/musician Troy Kingi at WOMAD in March, he was in the middle of wrapping up performances of his latest album – the reggae-styled ‘Holy Colony [Burning Acres]’, number four on his mission to deliver ten distinctively different albums in ten years. That album by the way, would go on to win this year’s Taite Music Prize and pop up on various other nomination lists. You can’t deny that the man is a machine. As an actor he’s know for performances in movies like ‘Zion’ and ‘Hunt For The Wilder-people’. During my chat he revealed he was about to feature in the Coromandel weed inspired tele-movie ‘Toke’, which is now available for streaming. But acting distractions aside, his musical talents are ridiculously attractive.
He told me that his new album, due to drop mid-year, was his most personal. Inspired by a mysterious cassette tape, owned and played regularly by his father ‘The Ghost of Freddie Cesar’ is Kingi’s attempt to reconnect with his past. When he was growing up his dad would play these tunes around the house and they burned into young Troy’s subconscious, leaving a scattered collection of memories of those tunes and good times. Troy’s dad went missing in 2005 and has never been found.
Kingi’s oldest child was just two when his whānau decided to fully commit to finding his father. He says he was literally consumed by the task, “It really weighed heavy on my mind, I couldn’t shake it off.” But with a young son needing him more he had to reluctantly put it all aside. It was during a clean out of his dad’s things that he came across a bootleg of live music labelled ‘Freddie Cesar’. “When I played it,” he told me, “All the memories came back.” Your mind tends to package it all up in music, unlocked when you play it back. “I searched online, checked with record stores, suppliers, everywhere. No one had ever heard of Freddie Cesar.” But there were the names of the songs on a white piece of paper, written in a sharpie. It wasn’t his Father’s writing, or his Mother’s. Another mystery. Apparently, Troy’s dad was a performer too, so I asked if it were possible that Freddie could have been him. That’s when Kingi looked up at me in shock – the thought had never occurred to him. It took a while for him to recover.
Perhaps, he was Freddie. Perhaps he wasn’t. Either way, Kingi was determined to recreate the music as best he could. The cassette was sadly lost years ago but he still had a notebook of the lyrics. A while back he’d transcribed what he heard on the tape as if a form of therapy, in an attempt to find a pathway to his Father’s spirit. Consequently, the music, arrangements and vibe on this album arrangements have all been triggered from those lyrics. Some are newly penned by Kingi. Some are original. On the CD, Cesar receives a writing credit. Kingi told me he’d even be keen to go further, if only he could find the ‘real’ Freddie.
Finishing this album was like the lifting of a massive weight off Troy’s shoulders. He could finally draw a line and step over it, “I didn’t have to try and remember the songs any more, they were down.” I asked what he’d do, if he ever found the tape again. He didn’t answer. I get that.
And so, to the album itself. What we get is a super slinky, cool and funky 70 soul record. It clearly borrows from the big blaxploitation era sounds of Curtis Mayfield, War, The Meters, Marvin Gaye etc. Troy Kingi’s Dad was a ‘typical Māori bloke’ in the 70’s. He loved his Black Sabbath, Doobies, Chicago, Eagles. And especially Hendrix. On the weekends he’d crank up the stereo, open the windows and blast out the neighbourhood. The music on this disc all fits that template superbly.
The party starts with a bit of a nod back to Kingi’s second album. ‘Shake that Skinny Ass’ is a direct reference back to Mr Cesar himself (and an obvious link to album number two). It’s pure 70’s funk and soul led by some heady horns that reminded me of heroes like Tower Of Power and Brass Construction.
The opening strumming on the track ‘Is the Honeymoon Gone?’ reminded me of L.A.B’s ‘Personify’, but quickly morphs into a different beast. It was inspired by his now grown up son who is in the ‘lovey-dovey’ stage of a relationship – the honeymoon phase. Kingi can write some smashing lines at times, including this gem: ‘Never met an energy quite like yours, like dopamine inside my Mama’s top drawer’. You can just imagine new love, like sneaking an illegal hit. A personal secret thrill.
Apparently ‘Caught in the Rain’ was inspired by 70’s soul king Shuggie Otis. Part of the magic of The Ghost Of Freddie Cesar is the world Kingi has constructed around his ‘legend’. He’s re-imagined him as a character from the seedy world of Curtis Mayfield’s ‘Shaft’, the cover of Jimmy Cliff’s ‘The Harder They Fall’ or the streets of ‘Starsky and Hutch’. So, in this song, there’s also these ‘Jackie Brown’ types and dark-edged drug references. You can almost hear them on the street gabbing away, tensions high, secretly sliding little baggies and tinfoil packets across for greenbacks. In my head, I imagine Freddie in tight polyester flares, 6-inch heels, fur collar and a big straw hat with a brightly coloured feather…
Working from a memory is always a tricky business. By his own admission his ‘version’ of ‘Through My Venetians’ came as close as possible to the riffs of his imagination. It’s a wonderfully ‘seedy’ bit of funk, great hooks again and again. Speaking of imaginations, and re-imagining, Kingi is the master of creative lyricism, including a few good made up words. That includes the fantabulous: ‘Chronophobic Disco’. Apparently the title written on the original boot-leg cassette. Chronophobia translates as ‘fear of time’. So, translating we get ‘Fear of time disco’. Who knows what that means?
When Kingi released his first album, Guitar Party at Uncle’s Bach, he enlisted Marika Johnson on bass and she’s been his right-hand woman ever since. In fact his whole band have grown up with him on this journey. But it’s her basslines in particular, getting stronger on each album. Here she’s truly come into her own, referencing everyone from Funkadelic to the Wrecking Crew.
On ‘First Take Strut’ we meet a new member of Kingi’s extended whanau. Neko is the granddaughter of his father-in-law’s cousin. He was sent some music, and not thinking much Kingi listened dutifully. He was however blown away by her exceptional and unique voice. Listening to the song, it feels perfect for her. Hard to believe this is her first professional recording effort.
It’s a 70’s album, so there has to be a China Beach reference… That comes with the helicopter noises at the beginning of the WAR-inspired ‘Nam Must Stay’. Apparently, Kingi revealed in a recent interview that he also cheekily “acquired” a sample from Brando’s performance in the Vietnam War pic ‘Apocalypse Now’, and has laid it down ‘super low’ during the outro for extra atmosphere – something for the fans to discover!
Just to prove that Freddie Cesar has been haunting him for sometime, Kingi’s recycled and sped up the bassline from the track ‘Pseudo Ego’ (from Holy Colony [Burning Acres]) and injected it into another super-riff track ‘Skylegs Jackson’. Kingi gets down with his street preacher character, half talking/half ranting through the song “I’m gonna tell ya ‘bout my neighbourhood… Ya’ll better pick up what I’m puttin’ down. Know what I’m sayin”?
One of the strongest songs on this album for me is ‘All Your Ships Have Sailed’. The hooks, again, are strong and super radio friendly. One or two lines seem biographic, although it’s hard to tell for sure: “Three daughters who adore you / two sons who are both brawlers / All I wanna say is I’m inadequate / Mama told when to know when I should quit.” Oddly, you can’t help thinking the song is a reinterpretation of Stevie Wonder’s ‘Livin’ For The City’, with a thinly veiled scenario of a ghetto corner drug deal going down with the hero trying to hustle a few pennies to support his family.
This album is all about that ‘Right On’ vibe. You can’t help being transported to a world of afros, afghan jackets, flares, platform heels on the hippest grand funk railway journey you’ll ever ride. Is it worth the journey? Damn straight! There is no doubt here that Kingi’s obsession with his Father’s music is an important link to his past and the ghost of Freddie Cesar has become more than just a muse for the music on this album. When it came to writing, Freddie was Troy Kingi’s guiding hand.
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