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Ian John and Owen Hughes are filming a TV documentary about the Signals band to screen on Prime TV on ANZAC Day 2011. The documentary follows the band's search for a new Pipe Major (see advertisement here) to replace Ian Hill who is retiring, and looks at the history of band, and the stories of band members. The following article by Ian and Owen appeared in the August 2009 issue of New Zealand Pipe Magazine.

The Band Plays On...

Public free to air television has its limits. It’s not the usual place to go to for entertainment from the pipes and drums. Who hears Highland skirls and laments booming from the black box in the corner of the sitting room? It’s a Highland-free zone. But this is going to change. In April 2011 Prime TV is to screen a documentary on the band of The Pipes and Drums of the Signals Association. This small suburban Auckland band whose 15 members have a combined age over 1000 years is a veritable Dad’s Army. This doesn’t make them obvious candidates for prime time television with its focus fixed firmly on the youth market. So what is it about the band that attracts the interest of the programmers?

Though theirs may be a story on the fringes of what normally attracts the media it has enormous heart. It is about the efforts of an older generation seeking out their younger counterparts to hand on their knowledge. It taps into a universal need to maintain memory through commemoration and ceremony. It celebrates the significance of music in all our lives. It’s a story of community, of change and of regeneration. It is a slice of social history, a celebration of a unique musical tradition. There is even the promise of a piper’s version of NZ Idol.

Established in 1957 from Territorial Army soldiers of the 1st Division Signals Regiment the band became civilian in 1964 following army reorganization. Military links are retained, though, with permission to use the Corps of Signals cap badge. From the beginning the band led the Pt Chevalier Anzac Day march from Coyle Park to the RSA in Great North Road. Fifty-two years later they are still out front. Once the parades were long in numbers and distance but as veterans passed away attendance shrank and the route became shorter. Now there’s a new generation. The parades are getting bigger. This year was the largest attendance ever. A new generation has adopted remembrance. Perhaps it’s time for the start of the march to go back down the road to the park.

This is the nub of the band’s problem. Like Anzac Day it needs to regenerate to survive. Ian Hill, the pipe major, a founding member of the band, 80 next year, is probably the longest serving pipe major in the country, the world, even. He still loves playing, but has made clear his intention to step down as pipe major and open the door for someone younger. Charles ‘Chic’ Lowson has been with the band 35 years. At the age of 90 next year he is undoubtedly the country’s oldest marching piper and is in no hurry to give up. Due to ill health Trevor Brown can no longer march with his tenor drum, but can still swing the sticks for a concert turn. Recurrent knee injuries have forced Roly Ridgway to hang up his snare drum twice, only to be seduced back to help the band continue playing on. With the best will in the world they cannot go on forever. How will the band renew itself?

Firstly, they plan a recruitment drive to find new talent to uphold the band’s traditions. This is where NZ Idol comes in, or, at least, the Highland version. For adding to their number and mentoring the recruits will require an odd mix of pop and military cultures. Auditions will be held. This won’t be a popularity contest, though; there is no stage, fancy lighting, celebrity judges or a wildly partisan audience. At the end there will be no recording contract or sudden recognition by the public in the supermarket. Instead there will be the hard slog of maintaining high levels of musicianship and discipline, keeping up with the oldies. Every week they meet at The Coronation Hall just off Karangahape Road. Inside the low studded hall the band marches back and forth, earplugs secured against the cacophony. They are a marching band, not a concert turn. This dedication takes character, and there is no lack of that. They joke, jibe, fret, perspire, practice - and practice. It’s a close fraternity.

How will newcomers pass the test and gain acceptance? Outwardly, their playing and their willingness to practice can be assessed. But will they fit? How will the band members adjust? Ian Hill is the key. He’s the Simon Callow of the show. But he’s no flashy pop entrepreneur. He wrote ‘The Rules of the Band’ and it’s his consummate musicianship that keeps him up front. Each prospective piper is taught individually before band practice. Ian demonstrates but doesn’t remonstrate. His patience is inexhaustible. A man of few words his fingers on the chanter do the talking. But like all canny men he is a great observer of human behavior. His quietness conceals an active mind. How do the new recruits respond to pressure? What they need is a civilian version of grace under fire. Ian’s alert eyes pick up every clue as to how well the new trainees will fit in with the band. It’s not the number of votes that count for the recruits to move onto the marching phase of their training. A far more complex mix of personality and musicianship is being assessed. Not directly but by a more subtle process of osmosis.

For like all small units of long standing The Pipes and Drums of the Signals Association has developed its own singular characteristics. It has a group mind. It has its own means of unspoken communication. It is a unique mixture of class, occupation and gender. A surveyor, a philosopher, a property consultant, two surgeons, a bus driver and one woman are some of the characters in the band. Fiona Newby, for now, finds being the sole woman hardcore member refreshing. Not that she would ever let on. Her reputation as a woman of mystery serves her cause well. It gives her drumming that much more authority. It’s inevitable Fiona will lose her status as the single woman. Already one young woman is progressing with her chanter under Ian’s expert eye, and ears. This is fine as far as she and the band are concerned. They are keen to adopt the young to ensure the band’s survival. Maybe they are different, brash even, but as long as they are willing to learn, to train, to march and to play the same timeless beat then they’ll all stay in tune.

The band is mindful too of the light they bring as well as the shade. Of the happier celebrations their music enlivens; traditions of poetry, song and dance that entertain young and old alike irrespective of culture. The band plays at Robbie Burns’ night, Christmas parades and various Scottish Evenings. The haunting appeal of their music transcends its tribal, historic origins. Kids of all walks of life respond to the band’s unique harmonies. Popular music may be their measure of cool but Highland skirls transcend fashion. It links the newer generations with the older. Like Anzac Day, and Father Xmas, the future of the band is not in jeopardy so long as there is a shared vision of the need to keep continuity with the past. They believe in the part played by the band. Its importance increases as those with direct connection to the events of the past diminish. The question of the band’s survival reflects wider social concern. A vision not trapped in the past but one that is refreshed by successive generations. It is not a passing on of traditions - it is a taking on of traditions. A youthful one does not replace a band of senior citizens, each affects the other.

On Anzac Day 2011, after a day of parading, playing, remembering and celebrating the band members, old and new, will gather at past-secretary Andrew Wilkie’s house. They are here to raise a dram or two to their presence on the television screen that evening. Andrew has a collection of single malt whiskies that will be hard put to being exhausted this night while they follow the previous twelve months of their special story along with the rest of the nation. The Pipes and Drums of the Signals Association will break a drought on television but there will be little drought in this celebration. There is something in the combination of regularly exercising the lungs, while frequently lubricating them that suggests a fountain of youth. So the music goes on, the song stays the same but some singers are new. While some march off others keep the band on course. Filmed over the period of a year, ‘The Band Plays On’ is a story of rejuvenation. At its core is the search for a new pipe major who will lead the band into a new generation. It is a story worth participating in for anyone with a hankering to take up the pipes and drums and become part of a proud tradition.