If you were around Wellington in the early and mid-1990s, you couldn’t not be aware of the music thundering out of various dives in Cuba and Willis streets.
And right at the heart of it, under the stewardship of manager Gerald Dwyer, were Shihad and Head Like a Hole.
Years back, I was invited to write a proposal for a doco on Shihad.
I did the research, reassembled some memories, got to know the band better than I had and put together a 30-page outline that became an outline for the film Shihad: The Beautiful Machine.
I was briefly attached as director, but that was never going to work.
I was aware at the time there was a parallel film in the works, on Shihad’s contemporaries and label-mates Head Like a Hole.
But that it was an unfunded labour of love with only one maker.