Alien Vinyl - UFO and Powertool Records

Alien Vinyl, UFO & Powertool Records
**By James Littlewood

**Deep in the bowels of New Lynn’s light industrial zone, Drury Street clings to an obscure backwater of the Whau River, a muddy tidal swamp, where the mangroves form the last line of defence against the run-off of commercial detritus: talk about a trickle-down economy.

Funny to think this oozing slime stretches out to the Waitemata, the rolling Hauraki and beyond. Funny too to think of its location in history, an easy stroll from the ancient portage traversed by generations of Maori with waka between the Waitemata and the Manukau at French Bay. The Auckland Isthmus was latticed with several such portages, another crucial one lying between the Tamaki River and Onehunga. These portages were busy places long before Europeans arrived, so perhaps it's no coincidence that today, they're both industrial zones.

Nowadays, Drury Street is a place of filthy metal fabricators, lousy car dealers and an outfit who can maybe wind your speedo back a bit. There’s some kind of religious organisation, but whatever goes on the inside, outside its devotees tend to scurry about without making eye contact. Here is wire mesh, gravel lots and concrete blocks. Park wherever you like, bang in the middle of the cul-de-sac is fine.

Dead ahead, an anomaly appears: Tintin himself — all blue jersey and quirky smile — waving through a murky window. Push open the door and walk into an oasis of culture amidst the grime. It’s a record shop, and it’s more than a record shop. It’s a doorway to a world that’s both weirdly dysfunctional and supremely enlightened. For starters, you’re in Alien Records.

Alien Records, the vinyl shop. UFO, the studio. Powertool Records, the record label.

Quietly filing records and rolling fags is Eric Hardy. If you know what you want, ask Eric and he’ll help you find it. If you don’t, ask him anyway. He’s quiet, but affable and knowledgeable. Nothing's guaranteed: new releases of underground artists sit proudly next to perfectly preserved Abba albums. If you like music, you’ll get lost for ages: it’s everywhere. You get to the end of a row of bins and discover another row lurking behind it. You think you’ve seen it all and then discover the CD section, or the audio cassettes.

You’ve been there an hour, and it’s only just begun. Walk past the tiny kitchen and you’ll get a glimpse of the enormity of this place. Before you is a stage with a mic’d up drum kit, some vintage guitar gear and a bass rig that is literally architectural in scope. To the right, a formidable control desk sits among a forest of old couches, sporadically punctuated with vodka bottles: half full, half empty. This is UFO: the rehearsal room, the recording studio, and the live performance venue.

For the most part, the line-ups here tend towards the arty and the noisey: The Fuzzies and Psychic Maps are regulars. Bill Direen has performed there, and the day I walked in, Hamish Kilgour was there, hanging out after wrapping up a North Island tour the night before, after 14 dates as far flung as Gisborne, Whanganui, Dunedin.

UFO is predominantly the domain of Danny Mañetto: musical polymath and producer. Among his many notable achievements, Danny’s the cellist on She Speeds, adding a unique and glowing sheen to a great hit by Straightjacket Fits. He’s an accomplished guitarist, drummer and bassist. After a grueling tour, drumming on tour with Kilgour, he was flat out on his back when I visited, nursing sciatica.

Off to the left: suprise! more records. Tons more. A veritable supermarket aisle full of them. Buried in their midst at his iMac was Andrew Maitai: former powertool merchant, now proprietor of Powertool Records. Andy and Eric set up Alien Records in the early 2000s primarily as a place to sell the Powertool catalogue. Of course, like everything else in this sprawling domain, it grew.

The Powertool catalogue is a revelation. Bill Direen — raised in Flying Nun and resident in Paris — is well represented there. Matthew Bannister — formerly of the essential “Dunedin sound” band Sneaky Feelings — recently released his latest album with them: Rubber Solo. There’s also some international surprises, including an EP by reconstituted 90s New Yorkers, King Missile, and Jordan Reyne, the globe trotting techno-folk artist.

And everywhere, everywhere you look: equipment. A pile of guitars sits — just like that — in a pile.

An upturned mixing desk leans against a wall of yet more records. A guitar rests its neck on a valve amp which rests on a drum kit. A pool table is piled to the ceiling with music stands and synthesizers. There’s no point tidying up: the place is too busy. There’s music to be made.

Image Credits: James Littlewood