Photos by Joseph James
Photos by Joseph James
Photos by Joseph James
Recently, when browsing through my emails, I opened the newsletter from German label Pelagic Records. Imagine my surprise when I saw that they’d signed Wellington act Spook The Horses! Win for local music!
Now to be honest, I’m never been a big Spook The Horses fan. I cam appreciate what they do, but the heavy roaring often put me off. But their set tonight has completely made me reconsider. They are incredible!
They had some screens free-standing on stage, with a projector shining images onto the screens. The new music sounded mellow and sparse, with pleasant singing in place of roaring. In my head I started to compare their new sound to the likes of Blueneck and softer Opeth.
The band slowly started in increase the intensity, finishing the set with some of their older material. It was an interesting evolution, from ephemeral music with nice singing, to heavy post-metal with roaring. And because the transition seemed so gradual, I not only warmed to the roaring, but really got into it. Tell you what, I was thoroughly impressed! The drums sounded especially thunderous, so props to the sound guy.
Rosetta have recently come off a month-long US tour. I recently came back from touring across a America with a band as well, so I can understand the immense scale of where they went. Philadelphia is on the east coast, a few hours drive south from New York City. Their tour was mostly in the west coast region. That’s a long way from home.
And now they’re in New Zealand, which is almost as far as they can get from home. Speaking to Mike (vocals) before the show, he told me how the response in Asia and Australia on this current tour has been unbelievable. By the sounds of things, it feels more rewarding playing in foreign countries because people make the effort to see bands that don’t have the opportunity to play those places as often.
Clearly all that touring has helped them mesh as a band, because they are one helluva unit! Seriously tight, and delivering blow after blow of intensity. Rosetta’s latest album, Utopioid, is a dynamic exploration of musical textures and timbre. Tonight they brought those textures to life, pummeling us with searing riffs and busy beats.
Mike was a brilliant front man. Funnily enough, most of the bands I’ve seen in recent months haven’t had singers, and the ones that do usually have the singers playing guitar. It felt special to see a vocalist freed up to move around without an instrument to restrict him.
One of the most vital aspects of putting on a show is energy. It’s the difference between listening to an album and home, or seeing the band play it live. Seeing guitarists throw themselves around and flick their hair about, seeing drummers beat their kit into submission, seeing singers draw us in to sing along – that’s what it’s all about. And you can see from my photos, Rosetta brought their music to life. You could feel the energy.
Admittedly, I’d been apprehensive about a Tuesday night show. I’ve been worn-out recently, and I knew a late night wouldn’t do my body any favours.
As it turns out, the opposite is true. Not only did I have a fantastic time watching two brilliant bands, but I feel revitalised. There is something to be said for exposing yourself to things that inspire you. I just want to sit down at my drum set and smash something out, to create something new and exciting.
Rosetta made a point of touring extensively after writing their most recent album. This is their first time in New Zealand. And I’m grateful that they came this far, because it has been rewarding for everyone involved.
Words and photos by Joseph James
I feel that I need to explain my choice of attire.
Yesterday I posted on Instagram about how I was so excited for the Guitar Wolf gig at Meow tonight, and that I was planning on wearing my finest Hawaiian shirt. Someone from the band Hiboux commented, asking if this was a thing.
In short: no. But there is a weird rationale behind my decision.
You see, this is my third time seeing Guitar Wolf live. The first time was at Bodega. It was the night after seeing Foo Fighters at Western Springs in Auckland – at the time easily the best live act I’d seen. And as amazing as the large-scale Foo Fighters concert was, Guitar Wolf came damned close to topping them in terms of putting on a phenomenal live music experience.
One of the highlights of that night was when the singer pulled me up on stage to join a human pyramid. Another was when he pulled up a guy with a large beard and Hawaiian shirt. He handed his guitar to our lumberjack-looking friend, compelled him to “feel the rock” and instructed him to strum out.
The second time I saw Guitar Wolf was at Mighty Mighty – another defunct Wellington venue. And lo and behold, the same guy – wearing the same Hawaiian shirt and rocking the same awesome beard – was pulled onstage to feel the rock and play guitar. This second time I figured out that he was selected because he won a thumb wrestle.
I vowed to myself that next time, I would like to win the thumb wrestle and transform into a rock god onstage, under tutelage from Japan’s finest. And just to somehow enhance my odds, I decided to dress the same as the lumberjack dude. My thought process doesn’t make much sense, but oh well.
I’m lucky I even made it to the gig. After a long week at work I was knackered. I work as a preschool teacher, and the combination of heat, hay fever and loud children had given me a severe headache. I decided to have a short nap when I got home.
Turns out I needed that nap more than I’d realised. I woke up at 10pm – four hours later! I quickly threw on the all-important Hawaiian shirt and raced down to Meow. I’d missed the opening acts, but thankfully got to the gig in time for the main act.
And what a beautiful sight it was. Three grown men onstage wearing leather jackets and velociraptor masks. The guitarist cracked a can of beer open and emptied it into the mouth of the dinosaur.
After a short intro track the trio ditched their dino masks. Seiji led the trio on vocals and guitar. He wore wraparound sunglasses and was dripping with sweat for most of the set. Half of the appeal of Guitar Wolf is their energy, and Seiji injects so much of his personality into the show – making exaggerated expressions and motions as he plays. Toru kept the beat on drums, and frantically combed his hair back – rockabilly style – between songs. They also had a new bass player – Hikaru. I remember previous bassist, U.G. had taken to his bass guitar with a saw, cutting off the bottom portion that he didn’t need, seeing as he only played three strings. Hikaru was great, energetically flicking his hair around, and supporting on vocals.
Guitar Wolf are not for everyone. They take cues from punk, rock, rockabilly and garage to create their unique “jet rock n’ roll” – think Japanese Ramones. They’re ear-splittingly loud, with plenty of feedback and distortion. And they’re fast too. OK, so they’re not the tightest act out, but why let technical ability get in the way of a good show?
Seiji had good banter – or at least from what I could understand. He made a shout out “my cousin, Prime Minister of New Zealand” during their cover of “Summertime Blues”. He asked if we had boyfriends/girlfriends/both, before teaching us how to love. He also asked the crowd what the highest mountain in New Zealand is, which had him stumped when he couldn’t understand the name Aoraki.
If you can’t tell yet, the show was great. I had the best time.
BECAUSE THE HAWAIIAN SHIRT WORKED!!!
Ok, so maybe it wasn’t the shirt. But I accomplished my goal.
As soon as Seiji removed his guitar strap I knew my time had come. He thrust his arm out into the crowd and I raced forward to grab his hand. He didn’t thumb wrestle me as I’d expected, but I clung on hard, trying to gain favour with him.
Seiji pulled me onstage, gave me his guitar, turning a knob so that the volume maxed out, squealing with feedback. Then he placed a guitar pick in my hand, raising it high above me head in a classic rock star stance. He shouted instructions my ear. To be honest I can’t even remember what he said – I was on such a buzz – but the gist is that I had to rock out.
I began strumming in time with the band. I’m not a guitarist and had no idea about chords, so I just played open, with my hand resting lightly on the strings on the neck to prevent too much feedback. My apologies to those who attended and had to put up with the cacophony I cause.
Seiji instructed me as I played. I don’t know if I understood correctly, but he guided me to wait, before strumming when he cued me. The next challenge was to jump in time with the band as we played. They all crouched down and I followed their lead, unsure of my role.
I have no idea how long I was on stage, but I was having the time of my life. I had bloody fingers and knuckles from the sharp guitar strings, but I didn’t care – it was worth it. At one point I noticed that one of the guitar strings had broken, and I wondered if I had done that, or had Seiji broken it earlier?
To finish, Seiji held me and pulled me down to the floor of the stage, removing the guitar from me. A man at the front of the crowd grabbed my legs and hoisted me up, and next thing I know, I was crowd surfing. It was unnerving, but I felt supported and nobody dropped me.
The rest of the set was great. People congratulated me on my newfound rock god status. Guitar Wolf kept playing their furious music. It was fun.
They left the stage, before coming on with an encore of a few more songs, and Seiji wrapped up with a second, solo encore.
Guitar Wolf prove that a rock show needs to be exactly that – a show! They have the look, the attitude, and the energy – as well as the music. If you get the chance to see Guitar Wolf in action, do it! Just don’t forget your earplugs!
Rock and roll!
Guitar Wolf have three more dates in New Zealand:
Saturday 25th November, Whammy Bar, Auckland
Sunday 26th November, Kewpie Party Boat, Tauranga
Monday 27th November, Secret Show, West Auckland
Tickets at Undertheradar: http://www.undertheradar.co.nz/tour/7227/Guitar-Wolf-New-Zealand-Tour.utr
Words by Joseph James
Photos by Kay Hoddy (https://twitter.com/KayInNewZealand#)
Vorn is a twisted genius.
The man is brilliant. One of the more able musicians I know. Listen to his works and you’ll find him spanning hip-hop, rock, pop, blues, disco … uh … polka… Look, he’s diverse, OK?
He’s also sick in the head. He sings about drowning puppies and delays on the railways caused by suicides. My favourite two Vorn songs are about buying condoms and weed. But his music is good enough that people tolerate his content to the point that no-one has called the authorities yet.
For the latest album, The Winter Session, Vorn has taken a different direction. He and his band recorded and filmed the entire album in a continuous take, like a self-indulgent prog-rock band. Recording 50 minutes of music without break provides challenges. It necessitates good flow. There isn’t the same opportunity to re-tune or rest.
This can be seen as a downside because the music isn’t as varied as we have come to expect from previous Vorn records. At the same time, it makes the album cohesive. We still get a small cross-section of the music spectrum – the hip-hop track towards the end stands out – it just all feels same-y.
The Winter Session has a strong electronica vibe, relying heavily on synths, keyboards and effects like looping pedals. The inclusion of violin provides an interesting baroque-meets-new-wave feel.
In many ways The Winter Session contains elements expected from your typical Vorn record – witty, self-aware lyrics that see-saw between braggadocious and self-loathing; harmonised chanting; catchy choruses; crisp drums with strong focus on alternating sticking on the hi-hats; the signature violin; Vorn’s falsetto; sheer weirdness… But long instrumental interludes bridging songs and the over-saturation of sci-fi sounds add new flavour to the Vorn arsenal. I especially like the tabla beat on the midi keyboard that complement the drums at one point.
Because he is so odd and quirky, Vorn is doomed to both critical praise and public indifference. Thankfully in recent years some of NZ acts who dare to be different have garnered success (Kimbra and Lorde), but it’s still a tall-poppy market. Singing with a Kiwi accent is borderline heresy, so Vorn may as well burn himself at the stake.
But at the end of the day, this is the main thing you need to take away from watching The Winter Session: Vorn has a fender squier strapped to his front for the duration of the recording, but spends the whole time playing keyboards instead of riffing on his guitar.
Who would have expected something so pretentious from a dude from Taranaki sporting a mullet?
Joseph James <3 Vorn and has drummed with him on a few occasions separate from Vorn’s main project.
Last night was wild haze. I went to the show at Valhalla … which was awesome… and I woke up feeling quite lost and unwell in a van in Marton … which was not so awesome. I’ll leave the rest up to your imagination.
I spent the rest of today hitching and busing back to Wellington. Here are some snaps I took at the gig.
Words and photos by Joseph James
A friend of mine has a story from when his band opened for Head Like A Hole many years ago. During HLAH’s set a naked man run onstage and stage dived off. He got consumed by the mosh pit, only to emerge from the midst of it right and the end of the night when the crowd had dispersed.
Imagine being part of that mosh pit. It’s hot. You’re enjoying the music and bouncing between other sweaty bodies. Suddenly, out of nowhere, an undressed man with flailing penis appears out of nowhere, blocking out the light and landing square on top of you.
My friend is now a priest, and although it isn’t very priestly to condone tales of rock n roll like this, he loves sharing it. He grins from ear to ear as he tells his story, giggling about wild times.
Of course Head Like A Hole have been known to perform naked and caked with mud in the past as well. Tonight was my first time seeing the band, and they were performing their début album 13 (released in 1992 – the year I was born!). All bets were off, and I braced myself for some madness.
I’ve been following the Instagram account of local post-rock lads Hiboux, and it is clear that they’ve worked hard recently. With a début album now under their belts, the band have filmed videos, written more music, and are planning an upcoming trans-Tasman tour. They sounded great when I saw them open for Alcest last month, and tonight was just as great.
The lighting guy was having fun trying to destroy my photos, employing far too much red light and working the for machine overtime – two ingredients that serve to foil my camera’s ability. I had fun though, climbing up on the side of a speaker rig to find interesting angles.
If you haven’t heard Hiboux yet, I recommend checking them out. Their hypnotic instrumental tunes cast a spell over Valhalla. It was perhaps a bit sedate at first considering that they were opening for legendary wild men, but later on the set the distortion pedals came to the foray and the headbanging material unleashed. Although their music is well-crafted and exact, fantastic energy brims beneath, making the explosive sections of the songs all the more dynamic.
Head Like A Hole disbanded when I was eight, meaning that although I’m know of them, they have never been at the forefront of music I listen to. They’ve had their share of play on The Rock radio station, and one of Dad’s friends used to bring HLAH CDs to our family BBQs [related story], so I am familiar with a few hits, but couldn’t say I know any of their albums well. Knowing that they had planned on playing début album 13 on this tour, I’ve listened to it leading up to the show.
13 is snotty punk music: fast, aggressive and fun. It captures the band at the start of their career – slightly naïve, yet with obvious potential. The recordings sound dated – funky alt-rock Faith No More worship with bright popping drums and wiry guitars – but despite this the album remains a fan favourite.
By comparison, tonight when the band played the 25 year-old songs they sounded full and punchy. Not only did they sound great, but they had brilliant presence. We didn’t see the naked mud men of yesteryear, but the wildness was still evident.
Like their contemporaries Shihad, they’ve taken rock music, added an alternative edge, and perfected the delivery. Frontman Booga Beezley – dressed in black leather and hair dripping with sweat – swung his mic stand around and told self-deprecating stories.
“This song [Penut] was written after a night of dangerous drinking.” He revealed, half proud of himself, half cautioning us. “I woke up at Nigel’s mum’s house, having shit myself. Shit was everywhere: on the walls, on the toilet. There was shit on me. Nights like that define who you are as a person, which is how we manage to write such great songs.”
Valhalla was as full as I’ve seen it in a year or two, sold out and filled with aging rock fans wanting that taste of their teenage years. The pit up the front was in full swing and a handful of punters tried their hands at stage diving throughout the night – with varying degrees of success.
“We’ve come to that point in the night where we are going to play some radio friendly pop hits” Beezly laughed when the band approached the second half of the set, “who wants to hear some Ed Sheeran?”
Despite never having listened to Head Like A Hole much, I was pleased to learn that I actually knew many of the songs from the second half of the set. “A Crying Shame” was great fun, with a signature trumpet hook played by the woman who had given me my wristband at the start of the night. “Hootenanny” earned cries of excitement, with everyone chanting along to the chorus. A cover of Springsteen’s “I’m On Fire” brought the mood down, before the band switched it up a gear to turn it into a rowdy frenzy.
The band members live distributed throughout the North Island these days, but a Wellington show will always be a homecoming gig. I’m glad that I finally managed to see Head Like A Hole live, but I bet that the old fans were even happier than me.
All words and photos by Joseph James