Angry Nerds Take Auckland

Wednesday 14/11/07

Jon says

Our trip to New Zealand begins at five o'clock on a Wednesday morning, the 14^th of November to be exact. We convene at Chris's house and receive a lift to Tullamarine from his obliging father Paul (who has an awesome beard). We arrive in plenty of time cause the friggin plane is (guess what?), delayed: it's an oldie but a goodie.

Standing around outside the airport, sucking much needed air through the length of rolled cigarettes and in-hailing coffee in the soft morning air, fog abound, in droves, hugging the ground like a wet dog, we meet the most interesting person who has ever graced our presence outside of an airport. An old-ish, blue-eyed Mexican man.

The conversation that followed led through a range of topics, including: Bill Clinton's real father. Who was really responsible for 9/11? How many famous people live in Acapulco? And chance becoming possibility and how and when this happens, until we have no choice but to end our conversation to make it to our flight, with enough time for the all-important duty free shopping.

The flight was crap, for the one and only reason that Richie and I have the only two broken monitors on the flight. This sounds quite petty, but sitting in front of a screen that should be numbing your brain under the false pretence of being entertainment, being defunct in it's only function, is REALLY FRUSTRATING. So I didn't get to watch Die Hard 4, which is only a half-shame.

Landing in Auckland is a blessing, and the sky is blue. That all changes the moment we get stuck in the gigantic cue for passport checks, followed by the gigantic cue for the immigration card, followed by the gigantic cue for the biohazard check. By this time we are all really over border control, especially as we've already been up for nine hours. But whinging aside, we're now in Auckland, and being as all three of us are NZ virgins we're pretty psyched, and there is our contact, Matt Crawley (of The Conjurer's) standing patiently, having waited an hour an a half for us and our delayed plane. He's a snappy dresser with a shit-box car and a thoroughly welcoming attitude that warms the very cockles of our hearts.

We attend to dropping the gear off at his art-house loft apartment and continue swiftly to BFM student radio for a brief chat with Aroha to promote our first of three Auckland shows and our only head line, at the Whammy bar on K road, directly across from our digs for the evening.

The Conjurer's start the night off after our brief and appalling sound-check with the most atrocious drum kit that anyone ever had the balls to lend anyone (we had to put it together with post office sticky tape to stop it falling apart). The Vacants then hit the stage with an awe-inspiring confidence and swagger, for their last ever show (a member is leaving to go over seas, and that's the end of that, and them).

Chris says

Then it was time for us to climb up on stage and show this "sweet" venue our "choice" tunes. The set started well, Jon broke a string as usual, but was able to change it whilst Richie and I jammed through the end of "The Conventions of Stopping". Shortly after that is when the real excitement began. There were a few drunken bogans at the front of stage, shouting out and doing the usual kind of thing that they do. But one of these guys jumped up on stage during a song (not uncommon) and smashed a microphone into Jon's face (uncommon). Screeching feedback then ensued as Jon pushed him off stage and yelled away the pain in his face. This guy was drunk, and a dick. We settled down and began to play another song, which we only got a few bars through before this guy jumped up on the stage again, grabbed the mic stand and wielded it like some sort of medieval sword. He swung it wildly at Jon's face again. More yelling and feed back. Jon whipped off his guitar like it was on fire and punched the guy square in the face with his full body weight. For someone who hasn't punched anyone since high school, it was a good punch, I must say. About that time, I threw a drumstick at the guys head, and the pub erupted into an almost brawl. Richie's bass was lying on the ground, rumbling intensely and adding to the craziness. We decided to end the set there. Not wanting to start a war. Jon apologised to the crowd by saying "I reacted like a Welshman" to which Richie added, "And a ginger". To the guy's credit though, after he'd been knocked around a bit by his mates and kicked out of the bar, he came up to Jon and apologised. It was heart warming.

Then we got drunk. It was a fun night. The small music scene here in Auckland meant that when we got up in the morning, everyone was talking about "the fight last night". Pretty funny, hope they don't expect us to be as macho at any of our other shows. We normally end them with hugging and a drunken sing along.

Thursday 15/11/07

Today was our day off. T'was fun. We slept in and then got coffee. We then spent money we didn't have on records at "Real Groovy", which absolutely lives up to its namesake. Massive store. Good times. We probably should've seen some sites and New Zealandy stuff but didn't. Bad tourists.

We had an interview at Alt TV, Auckland's music television station. Had an hilarious time. Together with Craig (the host) we covered every important topic possible from the Elephant Man to Jon's very odd impression of an Orang-utan having sex. We barely remembered to plug the gig.

At night-time we went to the King's Arms Tavern, where we're playing on Saturday. Liam Finn was playing, but to be honest we didn't really see much, cause we spent too much time boozing in the beer garden. Cool bar, looking forward to our show there. We got quite drunk and acted stupidly and met lots of cool Kiwi-folk, who had all heard about "the fight".

Friday 16/11/07

Jon says

Today started as an up-hill battle, mainly due to our alcohol consumption the night before, but some coffee at Verona, across the road from our digs, soon puts us on the right track. We eat fantastic egg based breakfasts at a café a few doors down, called Revel and then pack Matt's shit-box car with everything we need for the trip to Leigh, our second show and first support for kiwi locals "DieDieDie". Leigh is an hour an a half north of Auckland and by gods womanly bosom it is beautiful beyond words, and reminds me a lot of the Welsh country-side, where I is totally from and stuff. We are playing a show at a great little place called the Leigh Sawmill, a giant wooden shed, surrounded by lush green hills littered with pine trees, equipped with its own micro-brewery, wood fired pizza and free dorm-room accommodation.

We spend the afternoon talking and drinking with the "DieDieDie" boys until it's time to play. "1000" are up first then it's us, and it has to be said that not many people were there. If there is a shortage of punk rock gigs in country towns north of Auckland, this is not one of them. There are about 20 people and the pub dog, called Johnston. But we play as though our lives depended on it and no one can ask more than that. DieDieDie take to the stage in a drunken heap and wreck up the joint in their own inimitable style (broken drum stool, bent mic stands) and everyone has a lot of fun. Drinking ensues well into the wee hours before, one by one, everyone makes there way to a bed, bunk or bench to sleep off the liver abusing libations.

Saturday 17/11/07

            Once again we rouse to a breakfast of eggs and coffee, this time sitting in the back garden of the Sawmill, under a clear blue sky, chatting away while we eat with the DieDieDie boys, until it's time to haul arse. At which point we head to Goat Island for some seaside action and some very tame reservation fish. Torsos and feet are freed from their daily bonds and bronzed (burned) in the mid-day sun. The scenery is idyllic.

            We then head off to a small town called Matakana for some ice-cream and run into a friend of Matt Crawley who wants a lift back to Auckland. But not before another detour to play mini golf, on the worst kept course any of us had ever seen. Run by a chain smoking, sun wrinkled old lady. We play eighteen holes and I have to tell you that I won by a single stroke, well done me.

Matt's shit-box car then over-heats on the continuation of our Auckland bound journey and we have to pull over and pop the hood. After Chris, rich and I remove, tear and replace a radiator hose (it took all three of us), we think the problem is fixed and get back on the road. The problem is not fixed. We pull over again and try putting water into the radiator that Richie has ferried from a small pond in a near by field. The radiator reacts by billowing steam across the motorway. We duck for cover. After quite sometime of head scratching, Rebecca, the lady we picked up in Matakana, thumbs a lift as she has a plate of macaroni cheese waiting for her back in Auckland. We do not feel abandoned. At this point an Indian family from Fiji, we found out later, pull up behind us and their son offers us his help, as he happens to be a mechanic. Good fortune??? This guy not only rips wires out of his car stereo in order to re-wire our radiator fan, but then refuses to take money for his heroic efforts. He single-handedly restored our faith in human kind. And we finally make it back to Auckland, K Street and our temporary loft apartment.

Rich says

We all stink, me especially. During the car incident I landed my foot and half my trouser leg in the pond scum while trying to fill up a bottle for the car radiator. I would definitely fail the biohazard test at the airport. After cleaning my shoes Matt takes us out for some great Thai food (I'm part Thai and I can vouch for the quality here). The food is actually so good that the neighbouring food stalls (that were doing no business) were buying their dinner from the Thai vendor also.

After dinner I went back to the pad and Chris and Jon went off to the venue. I tried to get a bit of sleep, feeling a bit whacked from the days adventure. As the gig was kicking off in about one hour or so (I didn't know the actual start time) this made me a little uneasy and I decided to head off to the gig.

I land at the venue and all the support bands are really fuckin' intense. Shit Hawks had some cool extended raw high note riffing and Malenki Robot had Rollins balls to the wall double live vocals. We're on next and I was a little nervous being the only non NZ band. First couple of songs come off well but little response from the audience leads Jon to ask why some annoying audience member is wearing a Metallica T shirt. I thought it was Metallica myself (not that there's anything wrong with it) but the shit stir fell a little flat when smarty pants tells us to fuck off…and its Nirvana. Good for him!….Later that night we were treated to a photo snap of the man in question taken about one week prior to our gig with him sporting a good shiner!

DieDieDie closed the night and created beautifully intense layers of sonic ambiguity over punk pop. Definitely a band to look out for...

Before Jon takes over I just want to say that Matt Crawley is cool as fuck and a sincere thanks to him for his kind hospitality.

Sunday 18/11/07  

Jon says

            It's our travel home day and our only appointment is with Lisa, our label contact in NZ, so we spend our morning sauntering around drinking coffee in various café's and eating breakfasts of differing varieties. Lisa meets us at the Verona café and we chat about all things S.A.U.M related and air our views and ambitions where NZ is concerned. Then it's off to the airport where we hug and say our goodbyes to Matt Crawley, who has treated us very well and been an excellent host.

            But what's this………….our flights have been cancelled have they Emirates? What's that? You don't think an apology is appropriate? Oh, I see. Accommodation and free food ey, well that's a start. What about compensation for lack of earnings for our day's work that we'll miss tomorrow?…………… You will be receiving a very harsh letter from me. In fact, by the time my lawyer girlfriend has finished with you, I'll own your fucking airline.

            So this is how we end our NZ tour diary, staying in a shit moto lodge, not knowing when our plane will be rescheduled, and no way of relieving this frustration unless we smash these shitty rooms up, but that's just not our style. And we still have to pay the secret NZ departure tax in order to leave. Lets just finish off this booze, watch T.V and go to sleep.

Monday 19/11/07

            It's okay, we've been placated by Qantas business class flights home, and even though we only got three hours sleep we're quite chipper and full of beans.

Our trip has been a personal success, a financial disaster, a musical benefit, and a complete joy. We will be back NZ, oh yes, we will be back.

1. Pathos ate bathos
I mellow out when glass breaks I find no reason not to find you feel your secrets I don't want to be one of those to sail away I contradict when you speak I see good reason not to trust you tell you my secrets

2. A horse by day is a horse by night
All the kings horses put their dick in my sister she saw the whites of their eyes god said fuck her god said I don't wanna mama's little soldiers came marching home on a day just like this day today

3. Never follow me again
Man is born here crying that's the way of things when that man's done crying then his time must end if the rock you sit ..s or starts to roll get to safer ground my love or get what you deserve fate can only answer once the page is clean shadows cast by sunlight dream of being stars flames will never flourish under their own steam keep the flames you find my love with heat that you preserve or get what you deserve it was a short life but she lived it well never follow me again

4. All hail Sergio
Hey Spencer it's another bad day at black rock and the weather was out there to get you so what did you do hail Sergio we all hail Sergio and east wood had a fist full of dollars for a few dollars more yee hah fire

5. Girls music
If you're gonna bite down don't bite so hard did you know your vagrance smells like tin when my back is turned when I've had one too many when your word means absolutely nothing and a grant that came that granted shit how can you sit I hope you don't sleep I hope you like listening to music made for girls

6. I am United Nations
D.i.s.m.o.u.n.t I am u.n dismount your face what if we lose where will go who will believe how will we know what if we lose one over there one over here all to be used what if we lose

7. Pat yourself on the proverbial
In the summer she blisters and her skin peels in the break up of break dance we still waltz it's covered in cling film but it still makes time you've never been more than sitting on the shelf if you were anybody else you might get blamed but you saved your skin by pulling your hair if you don't care you let me down

8. I cry for no man
What did you say please say it again you fucking tool where haven't you been what haven't you seen what haven't you done I cry for no man

9. Get on out and come right in
What is it they say and who are they out of the box and out of this room the second hand is second to none and all in all it's gotta be said that this isn't real what will they not say and who are they straight from the top so give him some room the rule of thumb is get on his back and tit for tat we've got to assume that this isn't real

10. In-flight instructions are a joke, say I
Don't say anything you'll make a fool of yourself again don't do anything you'll trip and fall on yourself again don't save anyone until you make sure you yourself are safe a hundred times them all a hundred times the more a dream to end the sleep a fight to win the war a hundred time them all she drank the whole bottle down

11. Weapons of mass reduction
S.O.S from dog claims the lives of four priests I think they were Sikhs I said I was hungry he said he was on maneuvers says he lived through the Suez picking weevils out of dead fellas out on point he dreamed of land mine leg loss of leg injury time get some letters done hope and pray to the nose of dog sweet smelling nose knows of no past regret and now the smell of a mans close to death sweat contrary to his take on time he had been unaware of himself physically for only three days this morning he was hungry I was on maneuvers as his first swing cracked his hard boiled egg so the enemies in this were shooting at my head but it's common place and I don't panic anymore the rumor is I am bullet proof I cannot die I will not scar that's the rumor rumor is as rumor does

photos by richard sharman 28/01/07

photo's by our lovelyness jo spurling. XXX

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t'was a mighty good time.
xxx