Like here, like us
In 2007, I wrote my first and only book. Named Soundtrack, it was a collection of essays about New Zealand music, and I wrote it to give a nudge to a hundred or so local albums I thought crystalized something remarkable, potent and true about the times and places in which they were made.
One such record was Inside A Quiet Mind by Denver McCarthy, a humble young Krishna devotee from Tokoroa who released it when he was only 20, under the name Micronism.
I loved McCarthy’s album so much, I devoted an entire chapter to its brilliance. My somewhat florid intro noted that Inside A Quiet Mind was “the best electronic album ever made in this country—luxuriously melodic, rhythmically complex, tinged blue with sadness and—occasionally—bright red with joy; a record not so much touched by the hand of God as given a lengthy massage.”