I played the trombone in high school.   

I know what you’re thinking: squeaky-voiced Jack running through a few scales on his big brass slide? Hello Ladies...   

But honestly the fact that my instrument was seen as a bit quirky was kind of an attraction for me at the time. What the trombone wasn’t —at least back then— was very cool.  

To my mind it was good for jazz band and good for a blast in orchestra, but I wasn’t creative enough to find or even search for a different sound with my trombone. Brass had its place and that was that.  

But the year after I left high school, Based on a True Story hit record stores. I’d never heard of Fat Freddy’s Drop, but I was played a song by a friend and I bought the album the day it was released. I know it was 2005, because I can literally remember buying the CD from a Sounds record shop. I can remember walking down Madras Street in Christchurch with it burning a hole in my bag, so excited to play it.  

Let me tell you, I’ve never thrashed an album so much in my life. The way it starts off so sparse, those simple plunking piano keys, and then builds and builds and builds.   

The sound was so exciting. So different. So cool. 

Man, I thought. If I’d known this kind of music existed, this blend of dub and reggae and jazz and soul, with its brass component, too! As much as I have enjoyed Glenn Miller arrangements, I might have branched out a bit further with my high school music mates and the old ‘Bone.  

I’m no celebrated music afficionado but it occurs to me that Fat Freddy’s Drop are a prime example of musos’ musos. They’re a band which loosely formed from a crew who just like jamming. They’re a band that loves to play live, that still just loves to improvise. And, at least from the outside, they seem utterly unconcerned with the trappings of rock’n’roll stardom, with glossy magazine covers, fame and riches. Forget your 3-minute, four-chord tricks to sell into the top 40 radio stations, if you’ve been to a Fat Freddy’s concert, you’ll know it can be hard sometimes to know when a song begins and ends.   

I also think there’s a real, distinct New Zealand flavour to their music. There’s something Pacific, something relaxed, unshaven, and unconcerned. The sound of the Kiwi summer road trip. For the year I lived in the States, I’d always crank it up any time I had an American in my apartment as if it were a statement of identity. 

It probably says a lot about the band’s aspirations, motivations, and priorities that despite their incredible international success, the individual members of Fat Freddy’s Drop aren’t all household names in this country. I know next to nothing of their private lives. And of all the members, I reckon I’d only have been able to name two, off the top of my head, if you’d asked me earlier this week: Dallas (friend of the show), the singer, and Mu. 

Chris Faiumu founded Fat Freddy’s Drop. He produced their music, and as DJ, his beats, blends, and samples were the foundation of so much of their art. I feel my experience with his work will be similar to that of so many others in New Zealand and around the world. I feel really saddened by news of his death, and so grateful, so grateful, for the music he made that seriously has enriched my life.