Hard News by Russell Brown

Newshub's Michael Morrah got a good scoop in obtaining a copy of the National Drug Intelligence Bureau's cutely-named report Psychoactive Substances Amendment Act: One Year Through the Looking Glass.

The report is seven months old – which actually makes it 17 months rather than a year since the Psychoactive Substances Act was amended to pre-emptively ban all substances presumed to be psychoactive – but it still makes for interesting reading.

The headline is that, as you've heard here before, synthetic cannabis products are still being sold and used. Moreover, the report says – contra Morrah's news report – that although helpline calls have decreased since retail was shut down, at least one hospital is reporting a similar flow of presentations after the Act was amended as before.

A decrease in calls to the National Poison Centre and the Alcohol and Drug Helpline following the Amendment Act is promising, but should be tempered by the probability that users would have become less inclined to seek help once psychoactive substances became illegal. This data is also somewhat skewed by the sharp, but unusual, increase in calls to these numbers in the months leading up to the two legislative changes (the Act and the Amendment Act), which almost certainly reflects an increase in public awareness and need for information about these changes at the time, not just use. Conversely, staff at Middlemore Hospital report no noticeable change in presentation numbers from pre- to post-Amendment.

Worse, the expectations of that market are now so twisted that that criminals are now selling plant matter sprayed with actual poisons like acetone. [Edit: as Thomas Lumley points out in comments, acetone isn't likely to be a poison in the dose and state implied, but some of the other substances cited are; the dose maketh the poison and all that.] It doesn't really matter to them what's in it, or how much.

Black market manufacturers typically have little concern for quality control, with poor measures for controlling dosage when mixing cannabinoids with plant material, and it is likely that high dosages were responsible for the adverse reactions seen in Auckland.                      

The report bitches repeatedly about how the low penalties for selling such substances make it attractive for criminals to sell the stuff. To which it might be said:

1. There are penalties in the Act for selling an unapproved substance. Section 70 provides for two years' imprisonment and/or a half-million dollar fine for a "body corporate" doing it. One such case under the Act has resulted in a cumulative three-year sentence. Maybe Section 71, making an offence of possession, isn't a great idea if it deters people in trouble from calling for help.

2. Harsh penalties really stop criminals selling drugs, don't they?

3. There has never been any penalty for selling the likes of acetone, weed killer or flyspray for human consumption. The Act potentially imposes one for the first time.

4. Maybe making synthetic cannabis a legally more attractive product than natural cannabis isn't such a great idea?

In truth, the report isn't so illiberal. Its concluding 'Outlook' section says:

The regulated psychoactive substance industry is effectively at a standstill, with the ban on animal testing introduced in the Amendment Act making it unlikely that any products will be able to meet approval requirements for at least the next five years. With a single exception, the only entities that have applied for licences to date are academic or testing institutions; that is, entities with no interest in actually developing a product or putting it through the approval process.

The black market industry will therefore remain the primary concern for enforcement and health agencies for the foreseeable future. Even once approved products do return to the licit market, it is unlikely that they will resemble the kind of products available under the interim regime, and a black market demand for those products will therefore continue, as will the issues associated with such products. Although synthetic cannabis is our predominant issue at present in terms of availability, demand, and harm, the constant evolution of the designer substance industry makes it likely that other substances, not controlled under the analogue provisions in MODA, will continue to emerge. With NBOMes, a common LSD substitute, likely to be rescheduled under MODA shortly, a new LSD replacement may emerge.

There is also potential for non-analogous mimics of ecstasy or other substances popular in New Zealand to enter the market. Once approved products return to the market, it is inevitable that at some point the question of running those substances currently controlled under MODA through the low risk of harm tests will be raised. Already there has been suggestion that such a process should be considered for MDMA. The long term implications and likely outcomes of the Act providing a successful framework for regulating drugs need to be considered and planned for.

There is also the question of what should happen if a product is submitted for approval but does not pass the criteria; should that product then remain an ‘unapproved psychoactive substance’ regulated under the Act, or should a process be put in place for such products to then be scheduled under MODA? Arguably, products that have been confirmed as having substantial risk of harm should not be treated in the same way as substances that are unknown. Although such products will likely be referred for MODA scheduling, there is currently no actual requirement for this to occur.

The final paragraph is redacted with thick, black lines, as is a final page of recommendations. But yes, the police Drug Intelligence Bureau is contemplating drugs currently scheduled under the Misuse of Drugs Act being submitted to the PSA approval process and sold under regulation without having a blue fit. It's saying we need to think about and plan for how that will work. That's fair enough.

"Synthetic cannabis" – it's not cannabis and its array of poorly-understood ingredients are, at best, cannabinomimetics rather than cannabinoids – is a terrible class of drug. No one should be using it. It was a terrible first candidate for regulation under the PSA, and that, along with botched execution by the Ministry of Health, seriously damaged the experiment.

But the Psychoactive Substances Act is still there. A panicky Parliament making it all but impossible to use for the time being has not made the issues it seeks to address disappear. And the fact that even the police are contemplating its use to regulate the sale of some drugs currently prohibited under the Misuse of Drugs Act suggests it may be useful yet.

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PS: Journalists, please stop using the term "synthetic drugs". It's meaningless.

One of the real triumphs of the Outrageous Fortune prequel Westside has been the way its creators have curated and employed music to tell their story. Music was a part of the original series, but Westside's use of period tunes to evoke each year of its era took things up a level.

And I think series two is up a level again – perhaps because it moves into the era where its creators James Griffin and Rachel Lang have their own strongest musical memories, but also because 1981, the year in which the whole series is set, was an incredible year for New Zealand music.

Beat Rhythm Fashion's 'Beings Rest Finally' hung pensively over a post-adutery scene, The Clean's 'Tally Ho!' trumpeted the mad dash through the fences of Rugby Park in Hamilton and Herbs' 'Dragons and Demons' closed on a thicket of internal dramas. Not every song is from 1981, but those three were. They were harnessed not only to evoke the times but to communicate feeling – and they were each perfect. 

I've been involved in several different projects that aim to amplify music's role in our wider culture. I could only aspire to doing it as well as James and Rachel have done here.

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Here's heritage you haven't seen before!

The press release that accompanied them says this:

Available for an all too brief moment between the early 1960s and the dawn of the 70s, Maori language pressings of international pop and rock are some of New Zealand’s most sought after vinyl treasures.

Sporting unique cover designs, and pressed up in ludicrously small editions, they now command serious money on the collectors market. Finding good condition copies is difficult – these records often partied hard – so as the popularity of Te Reo continues to grow it’s instructive to look back and appreciate these charming reminders of a more innocent time in New Zealand popular culture.

A selection of seven of these rare record covers are now available to buy as high quality A3 250gsm prints from Arcadia Bookshop, Newmarket.

In truth, these sleeves that never really existed – but don't you want them to exist? – are the creation of designer Chris Mousdale. 

"They're completely contrived, designed from scratch," Chris explained to me. "I wanted them to look like they should exist. The old Letraset still works wonders! I had boxes of it from years ago – whole sets of fonts – and I can just never throw it out."

Ironically, the thing that took the most time was recreating the imperfection of old pre-press technologies – missed registrations and even cheap printing. Chris points out that many New Zealand releases were budget two-colour print jobs.

"You'll see that some 1960s LPs have blue type on the back, because they dropped black out of the process to save money."

Chris began the project after look for online resources for Te Wiki o Te Reo and finding most of them a bit dry.

"It's great hearing it on the radio, but on the stuff that's around us, printed labels and packaging, you don't see it. It's that sense that it would be lovely if this existed in a better world."

There's another reason to pop into Arcadia and buy one of these images: it will help with finding for Chris's big project: the forthcoming book of the graphic arts work of Chris Knox.

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I used to have an old joke about how musicians are great but make terrible flatmates: they've never got any money and they smoke all your dope. But, in truth, committing to a life of music, even if only because there's nothing else you're fit for, can be really hard. There are multiple lifestyle risks and, especially if you're actually making the music, little money.

I think it's laudable, then, that the New Zeaand Music Foundation is aiming to get a picture of the music community via the new  New Zealand Music Community Wellbeing Survey, which seeks responses on a range of topics, from income to health, substance use and family relations.

According to the Foundation, the survey is "open to performers and producers, roadies and riggers, record company and label staffers, DJs and choir members, artist managers and promoters: in fact everyone who is making their way full time, part time or as a volunteer in music."

General manager Peter Dickens says the aim is to move beyond "a considerable amount of anecdotal evidence pointing to many challenges that exist for people working and volunteering in music. This study will help us further identify these challenges, gauge their seriousness and hopefully provide support that will help people to have a healthier, more productive and more fulfilling involvement in their chosen music field."

The confidential survey is open now, and will close at the end of July. I would recommend that anyone working and playing in the biz takes a few minutes to complete it.

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My sources tell me that the rain and mud made Glastonbury festival harder work than usual this year – and of course, for many of those there, the Brexit result killed the party a bit. But the lineup, behind the very mainstream headliners, seemed rich from this side of the world.

The event, as ever, was magnificently covered by the BBC. If you want to full sets you'll have to ask the internet about that, but but the Beeb has plucked a single clip from many performances and while you might quibble with the choices (having watched a stream of Underworld's rousing set, I'd have gone for 'Cowgirl'), it's good to have them. So, it's 'Two Months Off' then:

And that song from LCD Soundsystem:

That song from Beck:

Happy times with Earth, Wind and Fire:

An ironic 'Mr Blue Sky' from ELO:

A little of what I'm told was a moving, mesmerising set from Sigur Ros:

And did I say there were no full sets available? Happily, a fan ripped UMO's set from iPlayer and posted it. It's still there, for now, and it's great. You know you're going well when the crowd starts singing 'Happy Birthday' to your soundman:

Feel free to post any other clips you fancy in the comments below. Just post in the URL of the video and it'll automagically embed when you save.

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Tune!

Just one this week – I'm still catching up from not having been able to write this post on Friday like I usually do. My favourite Aussies with another remix. Click through for a free download.

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The Hard News Friday Music Post is kindly sponsored by:

The walk from Pomeroy's Pub to the Antigua boatsheds is a passage through several different cities.

Along Kilmore, at the northeast corner of Christchurch's CBD, the gaps are largely filled, first with new townhouses jammed into compounds, then commercial buildings in the new Christchurch style: quick, squat, steel-boned and glassy. The new Piko Wholefoods building, consciously organic in in its materials and style, stands out. It seems determined to fit its purpose rather than its circumstances.

Across the river, the Margaret Mahy playground is a colourful oasis, both whimsical and defiant. Even on a Friday morning, kids are all over it. But the gaps are much wider here, and by the time I'm at Colombo Street looking south I'm getting the familiar, discomfiting feeling of not knowing quite where I am.

That's because I'm nearing the huge precinct reserved for the government's troubled convention centre. It sits inert, paralysed, empty, incoherent, holding all else back. Passing between the border of the centre-to-be and the yawning ruin of the cathedral, I feel glum and a little angry. What even is this place?

The empty Rydges hotel still stands concave and useless on the Cambridge Terrace corner. That stereo store on the ground floor is still advertising its long-gone bargains. The new platforms on the riverbank look like a nice gesture.

But further down Worcester Boulevard, it's all different. The Canterbury Earthquake Recovery Authority may have been wound down in April, but that doesn't seem to have changed much at number 62. The Boulevard cafe is crammed and the doors of the tower buzz with entries and exits. People carrying papers shake hands in the sunshine. It's like a slightly overdone movie scene, shot in portrait not landscape.

"Everything is going to be alright", declares Martin Creed's 46-metre neon work across the face of Christchurch Art Gallery across the road. It might be ironic but it does feel comforting. The front of the gallery feels as if the place isn't quite used to being open again, but inside it's happy. The new exhibitions feel playful; the curators have taken the chance to bring out the bangers. There's a Doris Lusk collection and a slightly daft room drawn from the collections and themed on hair. Works by Van der Velden and McCahon are co-located. As there is a constant flow of light still pours out its buttermilk sun, undimmed by anything.

And, of course, Ronnie van Hout's Quasi perches on the northwest corner of the gallery roof. In a computer-generated model I saw, Quasi/Ronnie seemed to be scowling, but the real thing just stares sternly out to the suburbs. Is he defiant? Accusatory? Whatever. It feels better. Van Hout's work is an antidote to worthiness and its influence on the gallery is welcome and appropriate.

The Arts Centre isn't looking as open-for-business as I'd expected, but there's clearly something going on there. People, and not just builders, are working inside. And at the end of the boulevard, RDU's famous mobile broadcast truck sits in advertisement of #RDU40, the anniversary exhibition for the city's alternative radio station – as if parked up by drunk students. The exhibition, which includes a performance stage and a live broadcast studio, is really nice and I bought the teatowel.

Down at the boatsheds, where my friends and I hired canoes 40 years ago, I hire a bike. The new fleet of sit-up bicycles is pretty sweet – the kind of kit that a flat city wants. I ignore the well-meant tourist instructions and head east. The CBD's broad, one-way boulevards are perplexing; one moment cluttered with cars, the next wide open and empty. The painted cycle lanes are a boon, until they unexpectedly disappear.

I'm headed for one place I haven't been since the earthquakes: the old AMI Stadium at Lancaster Park, which I've seen peeking across the rooftops so many times.  It feels hard to get to and mournful on arrival. So big, and so quiet. A work ute pulls up next to me and the driver gets out for a smoke. He stands quietly, looking through the fence. They're not really going to replicate this structure inside the avenues, are they?

Looping back, I easily find a happier place. Turns out, one can simply walk into Hagley Oval. It's soft and open and a nice place to be. (Two days later, I bump into Health Minister Jonathan Coleman at the airport, on the way back home from the National Party conference. He, too, has visited the oval and found it congenial.)

That evening, Fiona and I meet Emma Hart for a beer at the pub – which is as noisy as ever – and then we go over to Cafe Valentino on St Asaph Street. When St Asaph was the border of the CBD Red Zone, it seemed pretty bleak, a place no one wanted to be. Now, it's home to a mini-hospitality precinct. This isn't a place anyone would have chosen before, but it's a place.

Fiona remarks on how busy and colourful Valentino is and the age range of the patrons. Emma says she thinks there was a desire to get out, eat and drink after the earthquakes, and that the loss of venues to do that meant different demographics found themselves shoulder to shoulder in a way they wouldn't have before. The pizza is big and excellent.

The following evening, after a day visiting family in North Canterbury, we go with Kris and Tom Vavasour to Bootleg BBQ, in Welles Street, one over from St Asaph. Again, it's big and bustling and host to a range of demographics. The beer is good and the BBQ platter for two is nearly enough for four of us.

We have enough time on Sunday morning to head for another place I haven't been for a long while – the Port Hills. I'd forgotten how nice it is in Cashmere, the way the houses command a view. Victoria Park, on a glorious morning, is a spectacular place. There are dog-walkers, cyclists, hikers. It feels very, very different to the flat city below.

Is Christchurch finally recovering itself? Or did I simply this time avoid the places that still ache? A bit of both, probably. On three crystal days in July, it seemed, for the first time, to be shaking free of trauma. But the city's heart seems seized between beats, waiting for central goverment to either abandon its edicts or bloody move on them. And that statis is not the fault of the people here.

But ... "I ache in the places where I used to play," drawled Leonard Cohen in 'The Tower of Song'. You might venture that Christchurch has begun to play in the places where it used to ache.

Hello! I'm delighted to say that Orcon IRL at The Golden Dawn is back this year for another season. Our talk (and music) events will each have a theme – and, because it's NZIFF time, the first one will be all about film.

Where: The Golden Dawn, Ponsonby

When: 6.30pm, Tuesday July 12 (yes, that’s two days before the film festival launches)

Hosts: Russell Brown and Esther Macintyre

Lineup:

The Tickled Twins: Co-directors David Farrier and Dylan Reeve reflect on what a long, strange movie journey it’s been – and where it might go next. There's a good backstory about how the film even got made that's worth hearing too.

Michelle Walshe: Director of Chasing Great, the Richie McCaw documentary. The interesting thing here is that this film is a matter of an advertising creative company – Augusto – going to the big screen. It probably won't be the last.

Ant Timpson: Everyone’s favourite bad-tastemonger talks about producing Sundance hit The Greasy Strangler (described as “a welcome oasis of filth, depravity and shock” by The Guardian) and the other films in this the New Zealand International Film Festival’s 2016 Incredibly Strange lineup.

And that's not all! There are a couple more things we'll announce soon.

Once again, 95bFM will be live-streaming the event, but it'll be much more of a prime time viewing hour.

The other big difference with this IRL is that it's happening indoors – it is, after all, sort-of winter out there – so capacity will be limited. This time, we're doing the RSVPs via a Facebook event page, because people seem to like that.

So either RSVP here on the Facbeook event page – or, if you're not on the Facebook, click the email link below this post and send me a message telling me you'd like to come along.

Cheers!

Matters of Substance has published my report on the UN General Assembly Special Session on the world drug problem – UNGASS 2016 – and it might at first glance appear to be a rather depressing read.

After all, this is a meeting that not only failed to deliver on the overwhelming desire for reform of the global drug control system expressed by the UN's own agencies and (to varying degrees) by the large majority of member nations, it's a United Nations meeting that failed to even condemn the death penalty for drug offences.

But there's a fairly strong argument for saying that the success of UNGASS lay in that very failure. No one can sensibly argue now that there is a global consensus on the UN drug conventions. No nation really need hold those conventions above the wellbeing of its own people. And we're seeing that reality unfold as the Canadadian government begins to consider how it will deliver on its election promise of a legalised, regulated marijuana market.

Drug law reform, of course, extends far beyond freeing the weed. It is increasingly, and correctly, being talked about in the context of human rights and development. For all the disppointments of New York, an interesting time has begun. The unfortunate post-consensus reality is that change may be a long time coming for the people of Russia, China, Saudi Arabia and the other handful of hardline countries where so many human beings live.