Fashion Watch (oh, and The Video!)

Those readers familiar with my fandom discussions know of my running joke regarding The Maestro's wardrobe...long-time fans can spot familiar items of clothing in almost any photo existent (sometimes even Ryan has worn Trevor's clothes) and a brand-new opportunity for further Trevspotting presents itself in the long-awaited appearance of Trevor's directorial debut, the music video for "Anerley Road."

Eh voila!

It certainly felt like a long time coming...fans were given a glimpse during Trevor's appearance on The Weekly Comet online talk show and the lucky attendees of Trevor's release party for Jacaranda at the Gibson Museum on June sixth were treated to a full preview.

And so I must exclaim with unbridled glee over the kickin' plaid pants and the shorts (!) as well as those items from Trevor's closet we've seen before.  Although I have to admit it sort of reminded me of that one commercial for luncheon meat in which a harried wife is dealing with her husband's midlife crisis and his yearning to wear skinny jeans.

The video also features stills of the lovely and talented Tal Wilkenfeld, Lou Molino looking like a classic jazzbo in a natty buttondown-and-tie ensemble, all nine guitars (and dobro) used in the song, and a cast of whimsical statuary from the expensively eclectic Regalo boutique featured in the studio decor.  My rhetorical question to the auteur (but more Robert Rodriguez than Alfred Hitchcock): What, was it not Casual Friday at The Jacaranda Room?  There's quite a wealth of detail to be found for the observant viewer; with many shots showing more of Trevor's studio than we've seen previous; like the huge collection of awards next to the piano (too many to fit on top now, the weight will make it go out of tune!).

Trevor's sense of humor is wholly evident in this effort, and it's the little things: like the blink-and-you'll-miss-them jump cuts during Lou's shots (which feature an image of Trevor in a totally cheesy Hollywood pose).  There are other jump cuts included, although not quite as humorous.

Although it was likely unintentional, there's a little homage to Trevor's previous video for "Something To Hold On To" (a wacky collision of director Jeff Stein's 80s-era eye-popping aesthetic and Trevor's sense of humor): a shot in which Trevor is seen in real time playing in the foreground, while in the background the projected image of himself on the studio's widescreen monitor provides accompaniment - recalling shots in the former video where Trevor plays along with himself as seen on a bigscreen TV in his house of guitars (reportedly the home of actress Shelley Duvall, who also appears in the video...well, her eyes do, that is).

I like the closing shots the best: a couple stills of the street Trevor grew up on in Parktown, I appreciate the little glimpse into the past he has given us.

Now that The Maestro has stated he wants to shoot a video for every song on the album, we can all have fun speculating on which song will be next.  My vote goes to "Me and My Boy," which would be fabulous cutting back-and-forth from a photo montage of Rabin & Rabin through the years with sequences of the two of them tearing it up in the studio...especially with one particular photo I know of which shows the proud papa giving his infant son his first lesson in engineering at the console in The Jacaranda Room (on a decidedly casual day, given Dad's attire!).  But a true auteur has to find his own path to fulfillment...which is why we're so lucky to have Jacaranda as part of the soundtrack to our lives.

Five from five

As this year marks the release of Trevor's fifth solo album (I find it interesting that he and Peter Gabriel have solo careers of similar length and gaps between latter-day releases and yet Trevor still beats The Gabe in regards to fewer solo albums in the same timeframe, but more film scores), I thought I'd offer up a list of what I consider to be the best track from each record, hence the title of this entry.

And no, I don't count Beginnings and Trevor Rabin as two separate releases despite the fact that they are, physically, two different albums.  I consider the latter as the former's calculating doppelganger, unfortunately even those efforts to make it internationally palatable did not succeed in the way in which the album deserved to.

"Live A Bit"
Beginnings (1978)
Beginnings (and its eponymous doppelganger) is my favorite of the vocal solo albums because I believe - for all its naivete - nothing comes closer to the true expression of Trevor's range and ambition and emotion in regards to his own music.  In this I am likely alone amongst Rabinites but I say to them: you're missing out by ignoring this record.  For one thing, it's romantic in ways in which his later material would not be, and one of those ways is illustrated in this song...there's a dreamy, brooding, almost hallucinogenic quality about both the lyrics and the music which is singularly beautiful and compelling.  Trevor's Strat wails and moans and swoops across an almost menacing shuffle of bass and drums, with the tension of orchestral strings hovering above it all.  Lyrically, in a metaphorically oblique fashion, I believe it addresses the strange quality of freedom he was experiencing in going it alone, creatively, and this is supported by his observation that the only thing that's permanent is change.  But the repeated refrain is a joyful cry of relief, to emerge from the other side of sudden fame and the enormous weight of adulation and scrutiny and find himself to be still whole and (mostly) sane; as is the end solo, reminding one and all - though he's no longer a Rabbitt - Trevor is still a musical force to be reckoned with.

"Now"
Face To Face (1979)
Trevor's earlier records tend to be given short shrift by fans and I do confess to a certain disappointment in regards to Face To Face, my least favorite, in which I believe Trevor is trying too hard to fit into the box desired by Chrysalis A&R in regards to his musical identity.  The album has a decidedly UK focus in regards to the subjects and references in the songs and that is evident on my choice for strongest track which opens Side Two; it is ambitious, dramatic and inventive in regards to its rendering of a stranger trying to survive in the cold cruel city.  It also contains a rhyme which never fails to make me smile at its cleverness:
I see Mad Jack still sleeps in the foyer
he's gotta get out, being sued by a lawyer
and it's backed throughout by percussive vocalizations (courtesy of Trevor and Rene Arnell) which are a direct precursor to the "acapella Disneyland" of "Leave It" as well as an interesting use of a Strat he borrowed from David Gilmour with hex-type pickups, resulting in a (in Trevor's words) "high shimmering effect that's really beautiful."

"Heard You Cry Wolf"
Wolf (1981)
I think of Wolf as an "imperfectly perfect" album, for reasons I won't expound on here, but I believe even Trevor considers this the best song of the pack, as it's the only one from the former years of his solo career which he included in the setlist when touring in 1989.  On an album containing delicious cheese ("She's Easy," "Long Island"), bluesy struts and shuffles ("Stop Turn," "Take Me To A Party") and rock-solid guitar heroics throughout, this is the song which best displays a number of Trevor's overall strengths: a strong hook, catchy chorus, dramatic arrangement, good lyrics which don't strain the metaphor overly much, and a long soaring solo in the rideout which is truly swoon-worthy (and gorgeously rendered live courtesy of a few bootleg recordings and the 2003 release Live In LA).

"I Can't Look Away"
Can't Look Away (1989)
The title track of sorts, this is the album's mission statement in that the emotion and ambition of this song colors the rest of the album entire, even those songs which stray from its aura of gravitas.  Addressing a subject near to his heart and mind as a son of Msanzi, the lyrics are poetically evocative and the arrangement shifts from quiet to loud, a textbook example of the Rabinesque sense of grandeur, to emphasize the nature of strife and the yearning for peace.  This is another song which is all the more passionate and powerful when performed live, and the showcase for some of Trevor's best guitar playing in his overall history as a performer.

"Anerley Road"
Jacaranda (2012)
On an album which is perfect it's tough to choose one piece of perfection over another.  This is likely a contentious choice for those readers who have been spinning/streaming the album and probably prefer "Through The Tunnel" which audaciously careens between peaceful passages and all-out sonic warfare, or "Me and My Boy," the metallic hoedown as delivered by Tremander.  However, for me nothing is as indicative of Trevor's mindset, memory and creative acumen as this wholly fusionesque offering named for the Parktown, Johannesburg street which contained his childhood home.  This strikes me as the lynchpin of the record in regards to its presentation of existing fusion tropes and how they can be manipulated, melded, and even inverted while still retaining the sonic definition thereof.  Bracketed on either end by a Barney Kessel-style coda, the multitude of textures (courtesy of nine different guitars plus dobro) create a fascinating wall of sound which is punctuated by the tasteful drumming of Lou Molino and a lengthy dialogue between Trevor and bass wunderkind Tal Wilkenfeld, whose solo midway through the song (during an interlude in which the mix lays back to let her shine) is a thing of evocative beauty.  The way the two voices (guitar and bass) entwine towards the end (featuring a part by Trevor on his custom Tobias which sounds a bit like an angry bumblebee) is playful and confident.  By the end of the track all previous stereotypes and preconceived notions regarding Trevor's abilities have been summarily ripped to shreds.  Class dismissed!

The Man of a Thousand Credits: dipping a toe in the Ocean(a)

One of a continuing series in regards to the myriad variety of Trevor’s discography.


Back in 2006 Trevor lent his talents to a project helmed by Don Harper, who has been a longtime colleague of Trevor's as a member of his scoring production team, and I consider the track he played on to be one of the great unsung classics of Trevor's career, a link between past and present, the way in which his film scoring sensibilities began influencing his writing overall, and the true breadth and depth of his playing.

It is one of those moments which again proves Trevor possesses the finest of jazz sensibilities in an era when many considered him merely the purveyor of pop hooks, guitar cliches and Music To Watch Explosions By.

But as usual, all those people are dead wrong.

Don't take my word for it, though...here are Don Harper's impressions:
"I came up with the idea to do an Americana piece that allowed him to interact with the orchestra and yet allow him the space to do his "Trevor" thing, really not knowing what I might expect. I sent him the orchestral tracks and let him go. When I listened to the tracks (and peeled myself off the back wall of my studio) I was actually shocked at the energy in the first movement and the sensitivity in the second. Understand, the project is not particularly commercial and eclectic to say the least, but the emotion of what Trevor played shocked and surprised me. Surprised because, I knew from working with him, what his rock and classical abilities were but I had no idea of the Jazz sensibilities he would bring to the composition. The back half starts off in a Kenny Burrell vibe and goes from there to...I have no idea. Who knew? I know I'm preaching to the choir, but I think he's just getting warmed up!" 
Warmed-up indeed...when we consider what was yet to come.

There are not enough adjectives to describe the absolute beauty of Trevor's playing on this piece, and as I am not one for piling them on just because, I'll leave you with this: those unfamiliar with this piece can now experience a bit of Trevor's creative mindset as he created Jacaranda, but in a somewhat different milieu in regards to the orchestral arrangement.  However, the combination is indeed inspired and something Trevor is not only well-versed in, but entirely sympathetic to.  He shows that he is capable of a variety of emotions: subtlety and restraint, passion and power, serene melodicism and fiery fretwork.

(Okay that was perhaps a bit much...but it's worth it to praise this piece of genius.)

I have many desires in regards to Trevor's instrumental output, and one of them is to hear an entire album of this kind of music, but even one track like it in future would be a beautiful thing.

from Don Harper's Oceana Orchestra's 2007 release Dream & Variations
"Where Do We Go From Here?" featuring Trevor Rabin

The Secret Discography : what’s in a name, jy weet?

One of a series which examines Trevor’s musical career in South Africa.

It’s been known for over a decade now that Trevor’s “secret discography” (as I refer to it) contains a series of primarily instrumental Easy Listening records which were released under the name Trevor Terblanche. The first to officially cite one of the albums in a discography was T.H. Cutler on her Rabbitt fansite, which contains a wealth of information and research regarding the band and its’ members. I highly recommend it to all Rabinites (and have provided a link on the blog); but also as a reminder that research into Trevor’s career has been ongoing for a very long time and yet there’s always more to learn.  But the information regarding the type and style of material recorded in this instance has been long-existant already and therefore is no big mystery.

To finally place this in its proper historical context (beyond the mention I give on the biography page); in regards to the (not so) burning question of the name utilized (actually an entire studio ensemble of which Trevor was only the guitar player): the series is called Lekker Kitaar and that - along with the use of the name Terblanche - identifies it as aimed at the Afrikaans market (beyond the detail of the album covers displaying English text on one side and Afrikaans on the other). Terblanche is a very prevalent surname among those South Africans who are considered a part of that demographic (and there are more than a few Terblanches of renown, such as Pierre Terblanche, designer of the Ducati Multistrada and other superbikes). As Trevor recently related when asked, the series was created to be sold in supermarkets. The DJ Records label appears to have been the South African equivalent of K-Tel (for those of you who remember the vinyl era).

Trevor worked hundreds of sessions between 1971-1977, his primary vocation was as a session musician/arranger, even as Rabbitt became a (hormonally-charged) household name in the country. He played probably every genre of music which was being created and covered in South Africa (historically, songs and albums often had to be recreated by local musicians because the censures did not allow for importation into the country or the SA government might have banned the original recording). There are at least three Lekker Kitaar albums (I state this based on my personal collection: I own numbers one through three), perhaps more than that. On them Trevor covered the popular songs of the day as well as local favorites, translated to a thoroughly populist palatable pop style. But it was never meant to be any kind of actual musical identifier for him, merely a marketing tool, and even before his statement this fact was wholly obvious based on the packaging and content of the albums.

This is NOT Trevor on the cover:

So this particular conceit – when examined against the whole of Trevor’s SA career – is just not that special. Interesting to rabid Rabinites, but not important; especially when one considers he went on to come up with other studio projects with similar aims. For example, The Tee Cee’s was a studio project created to cash in on the demand for disco records, and more than any other recording he appeared on in that vein, the album Disco Love Bite is wholly his: full of his particular methodology and style in every aspect. And it was cunningly named after him (T.C. being his initials) which likely made it that much more attractive to fans without having to actually fully claim it as his own (though his name is all over the credits). As with a lot of things the status of Trevor Terblanche is just a potential trivia question, one of the dozens of permutations of the Maestro’s burgeoning true identity both as a professional and a master of his chosen instrument.

The Man of a Thousand Credits: Trev & Zimmy

One of a continuing series in regards to the myriad variety of Trevor’s discography.


Driven by a need to know things…I can understand the impetus of this obsession all too well. And one would assume the simplest avenue to actual answers is to seek the source, right? The answer is: not always; which is why attention to detail and the examination of various accounts and sources is just as – if not more – valuable every time in the pursuit of research.

Back in 2008, Trevor’s official bio was updated and made mention of him as a sideman/collaborator with Bob Dylan, and such a legendary namecheck is a notable inclusion for certain. My reaction was thus: “Dylan, huh? Wow, really?!” Because having been a Rabinite for nearly three decades now means I’ve uncovered all sorts of surprising credits and you’d think such a one would have been in the forefront of fandom knowledge. As it did not appear to be cited elsewhere I began a search years ago, but the actual evidence eluded the net of my research and thus I turned to other tangents.

And then a direct attempt to elicit further information proved to be rather anticlimactic…recently Trevor stated when questioned in an interview that he couldn’t recall the actual project or the circumstances which led to him being asked to participate. As there appears to be no actual credit in the whole of Dylan’s discography it is now a matter of conjecture beyond the confines of Trevor’s (extremely limited) memory of events.

However, in regards to the timeframe stated by Trevor in his response, the answer is likely the following based on the research I’ve conducted thus far:

In the first half of 1987 Dylan was in Los Angeles working – among other things - on the album Down In The Groove. As with its predecessor, Dylan collaborated with producer Beau Hill (whom at the time was working with bands like Ratt, Winger and Warrant) on this effort, and thanks to the exhaustive efforts of various Dylanologists, the studios involved are documented and one of them was Sunset Sound, where the members of Yes were also working on Big Generator.

Down In the Groove features a veritable laundry list of collaborators – and so it’s not a stretch to imagine a summons based on the aims of the recording, which seemed to employ a modus operandi of employing various and sundry for a day or two. A scenario involving Beau Hill suggesting bringing Trevor in for a session upon learning he was in the building is not out of the realm of possibility. But again, this is only speculation (albeit of the informed kind). It does make for an interesting consideration, to realize that Trevor was apt to be called upon by anyone, and often was; hence my ongoing series regarding an examination of his recording credits. Over a decade of session work by that point made Trevor the facile choice to step into any situation and perform to expectation.

However this release was nearly universally panned by critics upon release and this methodology of Too Many Cooks might have very well contributed to the consensus. The release of the album was delayed and at least three different running orders considered, with about thirty songs recorded, only ten of which made the final cut.

But this is where detail and recollection part ways, in that Trevor claims the two tracks he played on actually made the running order of an album (if not Down In The Groove then some other, one presumes). This is not the first time such a statement has been made (in future I’ll discuss his contribution to the Best Classical Guitar Album Which Never Happened, which Trevor seems to think was actually released). It is possible that his performance is uncredited on the aforementioned and thus we may never know. It seems more likely that he played on two of the songs which were not actually used. At this time, there’s no direct substantiation of his contributions. So anyone who thinks they’re going to conclusively find those tracks, well…good luck with that. No, seriously…because I’d certainly like to know what they are, I have a collection to maintain!

On the other hand, such a quest is the kind of thing which fans live for: the constant search for new (to them) and interesting information to learn about the admired personage…in Trevor’s case there is always something new to learn, some aural discovery to happen upon, and that – yet again – is why I’m a fan.

Jacaranda review

As of March 18th I was given the privilege of previewing Jacaranda, Trevor's first new solo album in 23 years (in point of fact my review was written before any other reviews had appeared online).  To say I was thrilled beyond measure would be a severe understandment.  To say that this album is what I've been waiting for nearly all my life is yet another exercise in the obvious.  This is an instant fusion classic: right up there with my other favorites in the genre and that's not just my relative bias talking.

Now I have been cleared to share my review with the public and I hope it does, in some part, convince listeners to give it a chance.  It's that good, trust me.

______________________________________________________________

Jacaranda - Trevor Rabin
(Varese Vintage Records)

For loyal Trevor Rabin fans, the title of his new solo album is the perfect identifier for this much-awaited release as the word is something which has long existed in his vernacular – from the name of his studio to references in his own lyrics - and perhaps an apt simile would be that a lengthy gestation of musical consideration and creation has finally reached full flower. Because we’ve had to wait a very long time indeed and our patience is now amply rewarded.  It's been noted in one of the press releases that the jacaranda tree is found in many parts of the world, and just as it has flourished in varying climates, so has Trevor succeeded in a number of musical genres, returning to roost in one not unfamiliar in his history as a working musician.

Jacaranda – as the name also depicts – is steeped in references to Trevor’s homeland. Johannesburg place names, as well as references to native flora, make up a good portion of the track names. These twelve compositions travel – sometimes within the same song – throughout a number of moods and styles, but are all imbued with the voice of a man with a gift for melody and a mastery of the guitar, even as he also shines as always on bass and keyboards. But make no mistake: this IS a jazz record, even as some of the tracks reference other styles and forms. Both trad jazz and fusion are genres which have informed Trevor’s development as a musician and his taste as a listener so it’s a natural progression (albeit one which has taken him over 30 years to fully get around to) in regards to his artistic agenda.

But it strikes me that the primary point of this work – in regards to how it is to be apprehended by listeners – is to remind us what a lyrical and melodic guitar player Trevor is – how it is as equal an expressive voice for him as his singing - and his career has been long defined by his guitar playing as much as any other aspect. Jazz recordings, even as the goal is the presentation of the synergy of the participants, usually place their focus on the featured instrument of the band leader. And given that Trevor is a Band of One (with rhythm section assistance on this recording) the focus is squarely upon guitar: acoustic, electric and dobro. For those who have been missing their Guitar Hero in the course of his sixteen years as an award-winning in-demand film scorer, here is a virtual banquet of guitar to enjoy. But there is also pleasure to hear Trevor rendering his own version of a fusion combo with great layers of bass (both electric and acoustic) as well as piano, organ and synthesizer.

This album also illustrates Trevor’s strengths as a producer and mixer – yet another facet which has been evident throughout his career – but given this effort is all his in regards to those elements, the technical acumen is just as present as the love and care rendered within.  The balance and dynamic of textures presented in each track provides a benchmark for his skills and sonic instincts.

This is a work which rewards the casual and the close listener alike: compelling and complex and from the heart. And I do believe you can actually hear him having fun playing this music as a whole, which is the best part of all. This is the sound of a man who can play whatever he likes, whenever he likes, and the record’s inherent honesty is a testament to both his desire and his direction.

“Spider Boogie”
Fleet-fingered fun with dobro and electric guitar. This track was the last recorded - in one take - so what you hear was all in real time (including audience reaction).

“Market Street”
Shifts between progressive-style ornate filigree and jazz fusion voicings; a portion of this may go all the way back to 1992 and an idea Trevor shared on his Master Sessions instructional video.

“Anerley Road”
This begins and ends with a sequence which is long-familiar to loyal fans and visitors to Trevor’s website (as it is the music you hear when you access the front page of the site). This track features a great interplay between Trevor and bass wunderkind Tal Wilkenfeld (her tone is instantly recognizable), anchored by Lou Molino’s tasteful fills.

“Through The Tunnel”
I was played an isolated guitar part from the multitracks in April of 2011 and having listened to the album I believe what I heard a year prior was one of Trevor’s leads from this song. I was blown away by the sheer audacity of it, to hear him just go for it; the analogy which came to mind was “jazz fusion on steroids.”

This is a track sure to satisfy those longing for some wailing from the guitar slinger. Reminiscent in mood of the instrumental “Sludge” (the version which appears on 2003’s Live In LA) it travels continuously between moments of gentle melodicism with layers of piano and guitar, and raucous shredding. The last part through to fade-out is an especially all-out heavy-riffing tour de force, made all the more powerful by the drumming of Vinnie Colaiuta.

“The Branch Office”
Intricate tuneful melding of guitar textures and keyboard counterpoint, with an almost madrigal feel to it which then comes to include a bit of bluegrass and progressive-style interweaving.

“Rescue”
Built on the foundation of the vocal melody from the theme “Rescuing Fischer” in The Guardian (the 2006 film which Trevor scored and a portion of that track was used as the “Main Theme” on the soundtrack album) – featuring the performance of vocalist Liz Constantine - this version takes an almost minimalist approach in regards to the instrumentation, featuring a wash of synthesizer with orchestral accents, bracketed by guitar at either end. The vocal is much more prominent in this version, serving as the centerpiece, and has seemingly less texturing incorporated in the mix. Coming as this does midway in the album, it strikes me as a moment of Trevor centering upon his current chosen identity before going off once more to different destinations.

“Killarney 1 & 2”
A piano-driven change of pace, part one of this track is a rare treat for those fans who’ve always longed to hear Trevor play an entire piece on keyboards. One can hear the young contest-winning prodigy in his playing even now, and as the title is a reference to the neighborhood where Trevor grew up in Parktown (a suburb of Johannesburg), as well as the suburb in Cape Town where Trevor and his wife Shelley were married, it’s a fitting tribute. The second part is a double-time reprise with classical guitar accompaniment; it could be theorized that it's a snapshot of Trevor's musical development, progressing from piano to guitar.

“Storks Bill Geranium Waltz”
A classic jazz mood, quoting such influences as Wes Montgomery and Barney Kessel in tone and texture but the piano adds a bit of chamber music atmosphere.

“Me and My Boy”
The big rock moment (but rendered in fusionesque fashion) many have been wishing to hear (as well as my personally longed-for sophomore effort by Tremander); playfully slinky and muscular, and the inherent spirit of Trevor and Ryan’s interplay reminds me of the guitar and violin duets Trevor played with his father on his SA-era recordings.

“Freethought”
The way this track swings, one might imagine it’s an archival recording of Trevor accidentally wandering into a Dave Brubeck Quartet session from years ago and having a go with the band. But it’s all him (with accompaniment by Lou Molino). The midsection features a whimsical tapestry of acoustic and electric guitar and keyboard textures.

“Zoo Lake”
Gorgeous intro dobro textures on this one, again capturing a trad jazz vibe even as the melody is voiced several different ways, including a rather crunchy electric section. Great stand-up bass tone as well, and a lovely piano coda. Makes me picture Trevor at 19 in the SADF Entertainment Division playing this sort of music in the Officers’ Club on a Saturday night.

“Ganazia”
This strikes me as Trevor’s love letter to his hero John McLaughlin, beautifully and passionately performed. If Trevor had joined The Guitar Trio in 1981, this is the kind of music he would have been playing. This is also the only track which features Trevor singing: just a tiny bit of vocalizing in the bridge.

My favorites: “Anerley Road,” “Killarney 1 & 2,” “Zoo Lake.”

Knowing The Score: Death of a Snowman

Author's note: this essay was originally published on the Yesfans website in April 2009.


"I did a movie when I was 19, long before MIDI or anything. My wife and I went to a resort and took a projector and projected the movie on a sheet. I sat there with manuscript paper. It was a terrible film, but I was very young and had just finished studying orchestra. So, it was very exciting to be doing a film and working in a large way with an orchestra."
- Innerviews, 2004

"It was a terrible film and not a great score."
- Score Magazine, 2004
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Trevor’s first professional credit as a film scorer, Death of a Snowman (later to be known as Soul Patrol and Black Trash), debuted in South Africa in 1976, although overseas distribution would not come till a couple years later. An unused cue, “Death of Tulio,” appears on the first Rabbitt album Boys Will Be Boys! which was released in 1975.

A sight we would become accustomed to, twenty years later.


Although it is normally classified as Blaxploitation, Death of a Snowman is more of a typical crime drama; it has been posited that the film does a disservice by not making any true reference to the socio-political climate in South Africa at the time, though there are a few references regarding the economic disparity between the races (in the long view, of course, the cause can be inferred). The plot, such as it is: a black vigilante goes after those in the Johannesburg criminal underworld while on the other side of the fence a black reporter and a white detective work together to try and stop him, believing that the law is greater than any one man…but is the vigilante’s motivation as pure as they are led to believe?

While it’s true there is bad acting, bad dialogue, badly-staged fight sequences (people do a lot of falling through windows and partitioned walls), equally bad editing and the entire film was made on the cheap…well, I’ve seen worse in my time. Admittedly I have a soft spot for 70s films of all kinds.

The protagonists: Steve (Ken Gampu) and Ben (Nigel Davenport). Is this why there are so many ZA expats in Los Angeles? They crave the “real” KFC?


There are orchestral elements in the soundtrack, but the majority of the score is actually rock and R&B; much of what Trevor was playing at the time both in Rabbitt and also as a session player at RPM and Satbel. A desire to work as a scorer/arranger was already somewhat fulfilled by session work (and during subsequent recording with Rabbitt) but this project was perceived, it occurs to me, as a direct evolution of Trevor’s studies with conductor/composer Walter Mony. A sort of putting his knowledge to the test, as it were.

In keeping with what I perceive as his drive and ambition (with just a slight touch of youthful arrogance), it made sense to try just about anything which came along in Trevor’s musical purview – rock, pop, jazz, soul/R&B, disco, even commercial jingles – and so scoring a film wasn’t likely considered something he couldn’t do, it was only a question of doing it as well as he could. And for a 19-year-old who was already considered a wunderkind it’s a definite achievement…its’ elements might strike one as typical for the time, but there are some memorable themes and performances, in my opinion (as someone who has attempted to familiarize herself with all the aspects of Trevor’s career).

Some of those memorable cues…
-the music during the airport stake-out scene has some great violin runs
-there is a scene where the smugglers are tailed, featuring some interesting guitar work which makes me think of chickens (and there are chickens in the scene)
-when Tulio (one of the Snowman’s thugs) gets his, the cue is much more spooky and dramatic than what was originally planned, it seems
-during a fashion shoot with Steve’s girlfriend (whose name happens to match that of the song) we hear “Charlie” (Rabbitt's biggest hit) playing in the background
-a scene in a park where Steve is reflective and feeding the ducks features a lovely solo piano cue
-there is a theme for Heather (the girlfriend of another of the Snowman’s thugs) which is rather pretty
-the end theme has a haunting melancholy quality to it.

The film also features an appearance by the mighty “Lady Afrika,” vocalist Margaret Singana, whom Trevor worked with on several records, mostly notably as a co-producer, arranger, and musician on four of her studio albums (Love Is The Power,Where Is The Love, Stand By Your Man and Tribal Fence), as well as a duet on the song “Tribal Fence” (written by Ramsey McKay of Freedom’s Children) for the Rabbitt album A Croak and A Grunt in the Night. There are two nightclub scenes, in one of them Margaret is singing “Love Is The Power,” I believe.

I apologize for the quality, the film stock is really washed-out in this sequence, it was difficult to get a good screenshot.