Archive for January, 2008

Humidity, humility, humanity

In recent days people have been coming out with their stories about their connections or experiences with Sir Edmund Hillary - people who went to school with him or climbed with him or built a school in Nepal with him or saw him at the rugby and got him to autograph a $5 note. Well, the only connection I have - and it’s both significant and insignificant - is that my middle name is Hilary. So there.

Which leads me to Parnell. After work yesterday I got the Link bus to Parnell, which conveniently stopped right outside the Cathedral of the Holy Trinity where Sir Edmund’s body was lying in state.

I wasn’t necessarily planning on going inside, but even though I wouldn’t be visiting for religious reason, I was interested in the event as a socially and culturally significant one as a New Zealander. Though, when I initially saw the line of people snaking all the way down St Stephen’s Ave and then around the corner and down Brighton Road, I considered just going home.

But then I thought about it. I’d put up with hot sun and crowds and having sweaty man-backs in my face at the Big Day Out, so how could I not be up to doing something that many senior citizens - including ones with walking sticks - were doing? And besides, the line was moving reasonably fast. All excuses gone, I joined the queue.

An orderly line

Now, it was a hot, extremely humid summer evening, with very light rain from time to time. The heat was so intense that I began to wonder if perhaps I ought to have a plastic bottle of water with me in case I dehydrated so much that I failed to meet the eight-glasses-of-water-a-day limit. Because we all know what terrible, terrible things happen then.

But then, as if by magic, a lady appeared handing out bottles of water - organic water, even. (No, I don’t get how either.) The label on the bottle suggested it was endorsed by Sir Peter Blake, giving a nice dearly departed knights theme.

The queue and the water girl

It took me about 40 minutes to make it into the cathedral. When I got inside I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Well, actually, I had earlier imagined something like what happened when Eva Peron died. You know, people wailing and fainting, tearing their clothes, queuing for days to see the coffin, taking their babies and their ill to be blessed.

But, well, it wasn’t like that. It was all rather Anglican. Silent and reverential. The coffin was surrounded by four naval seamen guarding it. Standing so still they looked like strange androids, waiting to be summoned into action at the cue of a Doctor Who villain.

I took some photos, but I was really conscious of actually experiencing the moment and not just viewing it all through my camera’s LED screen. I don’t I think I saw the man ahead of me take his camera away once - but maybe that’s how he does things.

When I was standing right in front of the coffin I stopped and thought and felt sadness. Then I had this weird sensation that, oh no, I was holding up the line and I should go, oh, sorry.

I signed the guestbook, bid my namesake farewell, and went out into the hot January night.

Standing still

Big Day Out 2008

Every year the Big Day Out comes around and I think, “Ugh, I’m too old to go this year,” either because I don’t know enough of the music or I think I haven’t got the stamina for it. But then it comes and if if I don’t go, I always regret it.

So this year I just went ahead and bought a ticket as soon as they came on sale, without even knowing (or caring?) who was going to be playing this year.

The weird thing about BDO this year was that I didn’t seem to know many people who were going so I just kinda turned up to Mt Smart Stadium without a posse. Even my boyfriend, the slender gentleman Mr Simon Le Bones, had ditched me (somewhere between Real Groovy and Mt Smart Stadium. I think he’s got work as a roadie for Arcade Fire. Arsehole.).

I caught the very last fading chords of the Checks’ set, dammit, and then Liam Finn started playing on the adjacent stage. I wasn’t ready for a reasonably popular singer with a largish crowd, so I went over to the obscure stage, uh, I mean, the Local Produce stage and saw a bit of The Lookie Loos. You know how some bands can be really competent musicians but not have any of that magical spark that makes a great band? Yeah, they were like that.

Dry

I was thinking back to the first Auckland Big Day Out, in 1994. Back then, you couldn’t buy bottled water, so I wonder what people drank back then. I can’t remember. Did we fill an old soda bottle with water? Bring along an old school drink bottle? Did we survive on Diet Coke and those weird “smart drinks” that was en vogue at the time? How did we survive? How did we not dehydrate and wither and crack into a fine powder and be scattered by the wind over the general Penrose area?

Anyway, back over on the Essential/Green stages area, I got the end of Tiki Taane’s set and stuck around for about half of Kate Nash’s. See, there were rumours that the Cribs were going to be playing, but that never happened. But Kate is going out with Ryan Cribs, so that little connection was what kept me there. But I was getting tired in the hot sun, so I went over to the bad old stadium and sat down for a bit.

Kate Nash

The Bleeders (yawn) were finishing up on the Orange stage, and then Spoon played after them. In Australia Spoon will play on the smaller Green stage, and that’s where they should have played in Auckland. They are not a stadium band.

Around the place, I noticed quite a few guys with New Zealand-themed tattoos. The coastline of New Zealand was quite a popular one, as was a variant of the Southern Cross stars from the New Zealand flag. This is a simple and effective way of saying that you went on your OE and got really homesick.

I wandered back up to Green/Essential and caught the end of the Hilltop Hoods, an Australian hip hop group who appear to be hugely popular over there. They have violins and hip hop beats, which is all a bit ’80s novelty act, if you arks me.

Billy Bragg took to the Essential stage. He said he’d left his backing music behind, so it was just him and his guitar, but that was OK with me. He played a number of his old hits (”Greetings To The New Brunette”!) his strong political ones and a Woody Guthrie song (and a free lesson about songwriting). The low point was a reworking of “One Love” to be all about wiping debt of developing nations. It’s a good message, but the song came across like something you’d sing in primary school. The audience seemed to be into it, bloody lefties. He ended with “A New England”, which is one of my favourite songs of all time, and included the extra Kirsty MacColl verse. Nice one.

Billy Bragg

Next was The Nightwatchman, which is the solo project of Tom Morello of Rage Against The Machine. I have this feeling that the inclusion of The Nightwatchman was a proviso of RATM’s appearance, because I can’t imagine that it would have been booked otherwise. It was just him playing crappy songs on an acoustic guitar. Through his work in Rage he’s such an influential guitarist, but this didn’t show any of that. The fanboy audience seemed to like it, though. I walked out after a couple of songs.

I saw a bit of Pluto back in the main stadium. I still don’t get Pluto. They seem to make music for themselves. Hm.

And back up the top, I caught the end of SJD. I don’t get SJD either. I know a few people who love SJD, but it also feels like music written for himself rather than for the listener. Alienation ensues.

Then Battles were playing. I started out near the front of the stage, but then I realised that I couldn’t see anything on the stage, I was surrounded by sweaty topless guys, and this girl was smoking in my face. So I moved over to the grassy area by the side of the stage and enjoyed things sitting down. It’s not music you can dance to, so it seemed far better to sit down and just enjoy the wiry sonic journey rather than trying to make it all fit some rock festival template.

A got a little bit of Paul Kelly, but was feeling hungry so I got a a felafel and sat down in the main stadium, where Shihad were playing. Wow, Shihad playing at the Big Day Out. How unusual!

While I was sitting there, I saw a hilarious thing. Two dudes, both wearing different t-shirts with “GUNT” on each of them, saw each other and the t-shirt he was wearing. They got excited and did a manly hug, before wandering off into the crowd, perhaps never to meet again.

Anyway, my time for liking Shihad was about 10 years ago, but I don’t like to think about those times too much. In fact, the whole Shihad set just got me really bummed out. Like, I’d never paid much attention to “Home Again”, other than thinking of it as being their “Wahey! It’s great to be back in New Zealand”, but I suddenly realised that it was one of those songs of the great rock theme where the singer is on the road and misses his sweetie back home. And I then I experienced that feeling - I’d only previously heard other people describe this - of being surrounded by thousands of people but feeling totally alone. Shit!

Watching Shihad

Something had to be done, and fast, so I quickly went up to the Green stage in time for the Phoenix Foundation. They were just what I needed. The crowd was small, but loving and when the band played “Nest Egg” and the whole crowd swayed along. And then when the “It’s a lie!” bit came, everyone shouted it out. Yeah, it’s a lie that you gotta be the big man.

It's a lie!

Again I went back to the main stadium and saw about half of Bjork. Actually, I only heard it, because my view was obscured by a promo tent. I’m not really a Bjork fan, but an old flatmate of my used to play “Debut” all the time, so I ended up knowing a lot of the songs she played. At one point green lasers shot out of the stage, and then a confetti bomb went off, showering everywhere with little bits of paper.

Then it was time for the antithesis of Bjork - Rage Against The Machine. I had (have?) their first album (on tape!). I know it well, and it was just fun to sit back and revel in all the fire and anger. Bullet in your heeeeeead! Bullet in your heeeeeeeeead! Yeah. But I realised after a while that RATM have no shadows and light. It’s all rage, all the time. And after a while it gets a bit tiresome and their songs all start to feel the same.

I thought about going up to see the Clean, but I realised that I really really wanted to hear Rage play “Killing In The Name”, so I stuck around for that, the final song of their encore. It was rool awesome. It’s just so well structured and it builds to the massive climax where virtually everyone’s jumping around, middle finger in the air, yelling out, “Fuck you! I won’t do what you tell me!” You can look for irony and say things about conformity, but sometimes it’s just fun to yell along to angry political songs and party like it’s 1993.

Killing In The Name Of

It’s kind of strange, though, how the two big headline bands were big in the ’90s. In fact, they both played at BDOs in the ’90s. Where are the big new bands of today?

And keeping with that theme, stars of Big Day Out 1995, the reformed Supergroove, were playing the last timeslot of the night up on the Green stage. I was never a Supergroove fan cos they were my age - they just seemed liked a bunch of dorky guys in a band, not cool rock dudes. I saw a couple of their songs, but the thought of going home appealed much more.

It’s strange. Like, I had a good time, but it was just really bittersweet this year - almost enough to make be not want to go next year. Oh, but I probably will. (It’s always better as a memory than as an experience.)

More of my BDO photos can be found over at Flickr.

What I saw

Overheard

I have this notebook that I always keep in my bag and I write stuff in it. It’s a black Moleskine, so it kind of looks like a sekrit diary, but it’s more likely that I’ll write down bus times (like, I can never remember if the 006 leaves hourly on the hour or the half-hour) than any personal revelations (that’s what my actual diary is for, of course).

I got to the end of the notebook I’ve been using for the last couple of years and so I went through and copied all the more interesting bits from it. I suppose my original idea was that I’d be doing something with the the stuff I write down not long after I write it down, but, uh, I can be lazy.

Anyway, here’s the first selection from my notebook. It’s other people’s words - various snippets (or sometimes chunks) of conversation I’ve overheard over the last two years.

The difference between New Zealand and somewhere else

Totally different lifestyle to New Zealand - different culture, different people, different religion and that kinda shit.

A teenage girl on Hobson Street

My name’s Devious!

The narrating guy at Whitcoulls.

Two pens. [Scans barcodes on pens] Right, those two pens - $11.98. From $20, that’s $8 change. $20. Just double-checking your change. That’s five, two and one is 20.

The express lane at a Napier supermarket.

Checkout Girl: Hello, sir. Did you have a fun day at work today?
Man 1: Huh, that’s an understatement.
Checkout Girl: Um, well, what would be a correct statement?
Man 1: It would be correct to state that today was not fun.
Checkout Girl: Oh! That’s not good to hear. Well, I hope the rest of your day is fun. Goodnight! What about you, sir. Did you have a fun day at work?
Man 2: No.
Checkout Girl: Oh, that’s not good to hear. Why is that?
Man 2: I’d rather be out fishing.
Checkout Girl: Well, I think you should go out and get a job that is fun. Work is supposed to be fun. What good is it having a job if it’s not fun?
Man 2: I’m quite happy with my job, thanks.
Checkout Girl: Oh, well, goodnight. I think I scared him!

A university lecturer

People who disagree with you are not always stupid or evil.

A guy on the bus

I had the grossest dream last night. I had an eyeball here and I could see out of it. I never have cool dreams.

A disgruntled guy in a cafe

Wow, they really know how to make a lukewarm hot chocolate.

A guy in a stripy shirt on Hobson Street, to another

You know, if I went to Vegas, I’d probably budget 100 bucks US a night - minimum.

The mother and the small boy

Son: That car’s been through the mud!
Mum: Which car?
Son: [Pointing] That one.
Mum: The shiny red one?
Son: It’s a Holden.

The mum at the mall

They don’t have it in Keanu’s size and they say they can’t get it ordered in before Christmas.

One tourist to another at the bus stop

Only push card in to the machine. No need to talk to the driver. He will understand.

The youth pastor in the cafe in Nelson

Do you want my honest opinion? I know more about youth than John does. Last week, 43 - 43! - youth turned up to the youth service. Can John come up with a programme that will involve them all? No. It’s too hard. It’s not just about, “Do you know what’s happening?”, it’s about, “Do you support what’s happening.” And I do.

The guy in Brazil cafe talking about the future of dance music

Who the hell pops an E and sits in their lounge listening to dance music?

The two young teenage boys on the bus

Boy 1: We should have gone to Ice.
Boy 2: It’s gay.
Boy 1: Cos we would have met girls there.
Boy 2: Andrew says it’s gay. It’s all 13-year-olds.
Boy 1: That’s cos he’s older than us.
Boy 2: He’s 17. He makes up so many lies.

American mom, explaining pedestrian lights to her kids in Wellington

The little red man is up there, so we can’t cross. It’s far superior to having a white man.

Referer Madness: 2007 special

Ok, let’s have some more referer madness. These are my favourite terms from 2007 that people have searched for that have somehow lead them to my website.

i stopped using contraception and didn’t tell him
Oh, you are in so much trouble now! But don’t worry. I won’t tell him either. It’s just our little secret.

dirty little whare porno
Jazmyn is at home in her little whare - house. There’s a knock at the door. It’s a plumber - a hot one. “Oh, you’ll have to excuse the mess,” she sighs. “I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t had time to clean.” “Yes, your whare is paru - your house is dirty,” moaned the hot plumber. “Quite the dirty little whare. This is not ka pai - good at all, you naughty wahine. I’m going to have to take care of you… right after I unblock your whare paku - toilet.”

manpenis hair
Apparently a google for “penis hair” was bringing up too many results to do with hairy ladypenises.

saw arse after drinking
This is #3 on the checklist of signs that you may have a drinking problem, next to “Work suffered due to drinking” and “Friend or family member expressed concern at your drinking”.

what goes down the sink?
Wastewater, and your plans to have retired by age 40 thanks to your portfolio of West Auckland rental properties.

find phone number of women who likes secret sex
So what do you do once you’ve got the phone number? Well, this is an actual transcript of such an occasion:

[RING RING]
Woman: Hello?
Man: Uh, yeah. I hear you likes secret sex!!!
Woman: WTF? How’d you find out?! It was supposed to be a secret :( :(
Man: sowwy :( :(
Woman: Oh, come over anyway. I’m quite naked at the moment.
Man: :D :D :D

lady suck cork out of bottle
Generally speaking, it’s more efficient to use a corkscrew than a lady.

2 girls involved in fight on courtney place december 2007
I’m intrigued - was this search done by a witness to the fight who perhaps was wanting to see if anything happened to the girls, or did one of the girls do a vanity google to see if people were writing about her fierce street styles?

who is robyn’s parents
I can exclusively reveal that Robyn’s parents go by the names of “Mum” and “Dad”.

sexual equality rhymes
It’s easy. All you need to do is take an established rhyme and change a few of the words!

1. There was an old man with a beard,
Who said, “It is just as I feared! -
Two Owls and a Hen,
Four Larks and a Wren,
Have all built their nests in my beard!”

2. There was an old lady with a ladybeard,
Who said, “It is also just as I feared! -
Two Owls and a Hen,
Four Larks and a Wren,
Have also all built their nests in my ladybeard!”

Too many years

Dawn, you’ve been gone.
It’s been such a long time.
Too many years.

C. Heazlewood

It was a Wednesday night, the day after New Year’s Day, and most definitely a school night, but I found myself walking along K Road in the direction of the notorious Rising Sun to catch the ye olde Flying Nun killer triple bill of Bird Nest Roys, Ghost Club and King Loser.

The bar was packed with the creme de la creme of Auckland’s aging hipster community, of which I may or may not belong.

First up was Bird Nest Roys, who you probably haven’t heard of. They were from West Auckland and released one album in 1987, which was loved by those who owned it. They’ve had a bit of a cult following, and so the audience seemed to be full of people who were really really happy to have the rare chance to see them play after all these years.

I only knew two of their songs - “Alien” (because it is on the Flying Nun “Very Short Films” video compilation DVD) and “Jaffa Boy” (because it is on the Flying Nun boxset), but nonetheless, it enjoyed their set. They’ve got a lovely jangly pop sound and nice harmonies.

Afterwards, waiting in line for the toilet, I heard one lady say that she used to sneak into the Windsor Castle pub to see them when she was 15. Then a young girl, not much older than 15, gushed to another, “OMG! It must be so cool seeing your dad in a band!”

If Birds Nest Roys was the entree, then Ghost Club was the main course. Ghost Club is David Mitchell and Denise Roughan (both formerly of the 3Ds) and Jim Abbott. But, really, Denise and Jim are mainly there to provide a rock solid foundation for David Mitchell’s musical maaaaaadness.

He kept asking for the guitar on his monitor to be turned up, which prompted a guy in the audience to keep yelling out, “More guitar!” (or perhaps “MOAR GITTAR!!!!!1″). And there more more guitar, and more and more and more.

It reminded me of how much I missed the 3Ds live. With D. Mitchell, D. Roughan, D. Stones (a Bird Nest Roy) and D. Saunders - all four of the 3Ds - in the house - I’m hoping that this planetary alignment may make things happen in future.

And then for dessert, King Loser. I love King Loser. I saw them heaps in the mid ’90s, and their first album “Sonic Super Free Hi-Fi” is one of my favourites.

King Loser comprises of the magical pairing of Chris Heazlewood (bitch guitar, drawly vocals) and Celia [Pavlova/Mancini/Patel] (sweet singing, seductive organ, hawt bass), with Sean O’Reilly filling in the gaps wot need to be filled, and a Spinal-Tap-like rota of drummers.

So, it was getting late and I was tired and I wanted to go home, but yet here was this opportunity to see a band I hadn’t seen live for about 12 years. The guys were setting up on stage, when suddenly, in blazed hurricane Celia. She came staggering on to stage, clutching a giant handbag filled with essential rock items, took off her coat to reveal a 1950s-style “American Indian” tassled bib thing and a Masonic apron. She then distributed Masonic aprons to Chris and Sean.

Eventually they got everything plugged in and started playing. I think they hadn’t played for about seven years, and it, well, it sounded like it. It was very very rough, but King Loser were always a rough band.

King Loser are like taking the scenic route to the beach, which means driving over a rocky, rubbly road in your clapped-out old car, and sometimes you complain about the journey, but other times you just enjoy the view, and then when you get to the beach you stay in the shade, dressed all in black, damning the sun.

The big highlight for me was “Stairway to Heaven” (no, not the Led Zep one, the King Loser one.). It’s one of the greatest New Zealand song ever written, sez me. I preferred the more epic version on their album to the shorter one they did live, but I’m not complaining.

They finally ended with a chaotic, shambolic “Dick Dale”, and I was glad cos it meant I could go home and sleep, yet I was sad it was over. King Loser suck, King Loser rule.

What a cool night. And here is a memento of the evening - me posing with David Saunders, he of the 3Ds. I don’t know why I was pulling a face.

Me and that guy from that band

Photo by film-maker and photographer (and secret blogger) Andy Moore.

Seven, Eight

At the stroke of midnight I was walking with Morgan and Andy in the grassy bit behind Maclaurin Chapel at the university, talking about the benefits of protein bars (?!). In the distance people started cheering and fireworks started spewing out of the top of the Sky Tower, so I figured that 2007 had smudged into 2008.

Ol’ 2007 turned out to be quite a good year. As far as this goes, the thing I’m most pleased with was finally ditching LiveJournal and moving back to using WordPress on my own website. It’s a bit more work running things here, but I enjoy it.

So, yeah, that was fun. Let’s do it again this year.