The Emerald Wagon zoomed down the Auckland motorway, headed for the outskirts of the inner-city.
“It’s unheard of! The Kings Arms closing down… So sad. They’re just gonna bowl it over oi!” Ethan protested before taking a wild drag from his vape, and filling the car with the smell of fake grapes. “Yeah it’s pretty bullshit aye,” Tommy concurred from the drivers seat, eyes plastered on the road. “Man, I’m just glad we get to go to the final gig. It’s quite sentimental,” was Toby’s comment. I thought about that for a minute, watching as the tall city and its lights loomed ever closer. Sentimental.. ”Who's playing?” I asked. Maybe we could learn something from them.
The Wax Chattels, they were called. Ethan told us all about them - he knew every band on the block. We were just in time to see their performance, nudging our way into the packed Kings Arms as they were taking to the stage. They grabbed my attention - commanded my attention - before they even started playing music. It was the way they held themselves on stage. So much confidence, I noticed, already impressed.
And then it began. Pure intensity grabbed hold of the room and didn’t let go. Not for one second. Not even when the drummer contributed silence. When they built tension, it weighed heavier every second, only to be wildly shattered in a frenetic noise-rock assault that was almost enough to bowl the Kings Arms down right there and then. It was the keyboard player/vocalist that held my attention the most. He had such powerful stage presence. Every time he hit a key on his keyboard, making it squeal, it looked as though his body was getting an intense electric shock. The whole performance was gripping, and powerful.
Afterwards, I found the others amidst the congregations outside, sharing a ciggy. “See? They are the next Mint Chicks!” Ethan exclaimed. “Man, that was so tight,” Tommy said, addressing Toby and I. “We need to sound that tight for all our shows.” I pulled a grin. “Bro, I reckon we are sounding sick!” I said with enthusiasm. “Our shows will be mean. That guy on the keyboard gave me some ideas.” Toby nodded in agreement. “Yeah man. The drumming was so solid. And he was only using a 3-piece kit!” I could see Toby’s excitement for the shows ahead. The anticipation for our SHEEP tour had reached its zenith.
And so, the Kings Arms was done. For good. SHEEP was fortunate to be there on that final night, when its rock’n’roll legacy was pummelled into every person in attendance, like a nail into wood, never to be forgotten. It was a prologue of sorts, for we were more amped up than ever before to take to the 6 stages across New Zealand. Toby was right - it did feel sentimental. Especially being the night before our first show.
Tour had come.
THE FIRST SHOW: WHAMMY BAR, ST KEVINS ARCADE, K-ROAD, AUCKLAND
We parked in one of those back-alley city carparks, and lugged our gear up into Whammy bar via a secret back entrance. The room itself was not too big, and the stage not too high. “Good venue!” I commented. SHEEP played better in tight spaces - it was fact.
We began setting up. The first thing I did was hunt for a stand for my synth. It was one of my SHEEP rituals - to make do with what the venue had. Luck was in my favour: the bar stool tucked in the corner was the perfect height. After set up, the others wanted to drive back to grab a few things. A piece of drum equipment was left behind, and Tommy hadn’t put on his outfit yet. They rushed back to the Emerald Wagon and hopped in. “I’ll stay here actually,” I told them, and watched as the Wagon weaselled out of the secret carpark and vanish into the city. A moment to myself.
I hurried back up the secret back-way stairs, through Whammy bar, and out into St Kevins Arcade. It opened out to the street like a big mouth, and K-road pedestrians ambled about their evening business, some munching on food. Hmmm, food would be nice. Maybe a beer. I headed toward the street, and heard footsteps behind me. A voice called out. “Yo.” A familiar voice… I turned, and a tall, slender guy in a grey cardigan was approaching me. “Denver! I didn’t know you were in Auckland!” He pulled on his mischievous grin. “Yues, they do say that I am here,” he said. "Come down into the park oi, I have some beers." He gestured down the wide steps of the Arcade. “Sweet!”
We headed down the flight of steps to the top entrance of Myers Park. It snaked down and down, deeper into the city, a winding river of green sinking into the shadows. Beyond it stood the Skytower, bright and colourful amongst its shorter, squarer neighbours. We headed down into the park. Near the bottom, Denver hurried up to a nearby tree and pulled out a plastic bag from its hollow. Beers.
The night darkened as we sat on a bench in Myers Park, drinking beers and talking about our solo music endeavours. I lost track of time…
“I’m glad I get to see your first show,” he told me eventually. “I haven’t seen Sheep in ages. Are you guys ready?” I almost forgot about the show entirely, glancing up the flight of stairs, suddenly hit with nervousness. That stage is waiting for us… “Haha yeah man, we were born ready.” I wonder how many people will show up. “Woah bro,” he said, sounding shocked. “What is that on your neck?” I touched the red lump on my neck. “Ah, this beast. It's a boil, I think. It's getting really painful! I hope it doesn't pop on stage.." The stairs back up to St Kevins Arcade beckoned behind Denver. “Shit, what’s the time?” Am I late?? I glanced at the time on my phone. “We should go up now.”
We hurried, climbing the steps all the way back up to the Arcade. The others were at the entrance to Whammy, as if anticipating our arrival. Toby stood very casually, hands in the pockets of his crimson red jacket. Tommy wore a dark green cardigan and a flowery dress dropping just past his knees. He threw his hands up. “Denver! Ayee!” Energy was spilling from him. “Tommy,” Denver chuckled in response. I turned to Toby. “You got the part?" I asked as Tommy and Denver began joking about recent events. “Yep. How are you feeling?” He asked. The question caught me off guard. “Yeah, pretty good. A bit nervous!” I replied. Toby smiled into the distance. “Me too.”
The moment we stepped onto that stage, those nerves scattered like bugs beneath a rock just lifted. The crowd started to gather, one big shuffling shadow in the corner of my eye. I stepped up to my Korg R3 Synth and stood above it, beholding it, bringing it to life, making sure the web of tape was firm around the power chord. It better not come out. No, it won’t. It won’t! A glance to Tommy and Toby - they were attending to their instruments, drenched in the shifting colours of the stage lights. We flicked on the amps; a light buzz affirmed our presence. Half a year since we’ve been on stage… I pressed a key, and the bass dominated the room for half a second. The eyes I could see widened - the faces they belonged to looked hungry. The bass was loud enough. Good.
“Hi. We’re SHEEP.” Tommy said, pulling all eyes. Toby gave me a curt nod, readying his drum sticks. Tommy knelt and began strumming a few times, pressing buttons on his pedals. He looked up and me and mouthed ‘you ready?’ I nodded back.
And then it began.
Ethan, standing excitedly at the front, managed to belt the first part of “SHEEEEEP” before his voice was swept to the side and drowned by our first blast of noise. We threw ourselves into the music, holding absolutely nothing back. All that anticipation was grabbed from within us and channeled through our instruments with force and speed. It battered the audience, and I watched them every fourth moment moving as one, unsure whether to dance or head-bang. It was about 3 frantic minutes, and the first number was over. I was breathing heavily, and the boil on my neck pulsed. Holy shit! A breath of silence happened, and then cheers and claps erupted. It felt amazing to be on stage - the euphoria of performing took hold.
“Thanks for coming to our first show.” Within the matter of a second, Tommy went from guitar-wielding madman, face hot with intensity, to jolly frontman entertaining the crowd with ease. He barely even had to say anything to make them smile and laugh - being entertaining was effortless to him. Man he is a good performer, I noted. Scanning the dark room, I felt into the vibe - it was tight, compressed. The crowd was eager for more, I could feel it.
Toby started the next one, playing drums with all due ferocity, yet still managing to keep a composed posture. Schmuck. He drove the beat hard and steady, and I joined him in unison, solidifying the backline. Tommy came on top with his wild vocals and quick guitar progressions. The crowd rocked with it hard - two hulking fellows dominated the front line with hair splashing left right and centre. I remembered what I had learned from the Wax Chatells, and leapt into performance mode, fizzing with my arms and torso, spinning the synth around, attacking the keys from different angles. Manic-mode unlocked. The boil hissed at me, but I ignored it.
The show went on like this for our entire 8 song set. It was a chaotic blur. The crowd was humming before us, unsure what to do next. Toby suffered the most, keeping that pace and intensity on the drums. He puffed hard by the end of it, all but collapsing into the drums - it was an extremely solid effort. Sweat was rolling down my own temples. And Tommy, he looked ready to play another set… I wondered where he got all his energy from. I always wondered. Ethan was first amongst us as we clambered off stage. “Man, you guys killed it! So much energy!”
We were thrilled too. The first show turned out perfectly, and nothing malfunctioned. The crowd was into it. It sounded tight. And the cash in the box was enough to pay for the afterparty!
THE SECOND SHOW: UFO, NEW LYNN, AUCKLAND
“Ahh the UFO,” I said as we pulled up in the Emerald Wagon. It had moved to a new place, but it was still exactly the same. UFO was where it all started. It was a renowned gigging space in the Auckland underage gig scene, and the very place where we played our first ever show as 'The Modern Philosophers', in 2015. It seemed only fitting to host our all-ages gig at the UFO, for old times sake.
Despite being in a different industrial corner of New Lynn, the UFO was almost precisely as I had remembered it. The entrance like a garage, older fellas sitting outside on plastic chairs and smoking ciggies, ripped couches lining the insides, posters of all kinds slapped against the wall, white-bearded sound guy in the back corner, a stage already set up with amps and a drum kit… We ambled in with our instruments, and found a place for them. “Good to see they’ve kept it mostly the same. Man I miss those old UFO shows,” Ethan commented, eyes darting from poster to poster. Come to think of it, I do too… This show felt somewhat like an old UFO show. Joining us were a band called Diddies Kong Quest, the off-shoot of Joe Says No, a band we used to play with back in 2015.
We sat on the back couches, chatting as the first band set up. There was only about seven people inside, including us. The big room almost felt bored, I noticed - it definitely didn’t feel in wake of an epic show that night. “I don’t even really care what happens tonight aye,” Tommy said. He had his legs up on the back of the couch, and sunglasses over his eyes. “That show at Whammy was miiiiint.” Toby nodded to that with a smile, twirling hair between his fingers. It seemed that we were all on the same buzz - it didn’t matter what happened that night at the UFO. The first show at Whammy bar was enough to satisfy us, at least until our Tauranga show.
It seemed, however, that we may have jinxed it.
After the first band had finished and vacated the stage, it was a stale-mate. Apparently nobody was playing second. "Not sure what's going on," Tommy said, getting up from the couch. "The Fuzzies should be getting ready by now." The Fuzzies were the resident band, comprised of those older fellas smoking the cigarettes. UFO was their home. We went to see what they were up to.
"We thought Diddies Kong Quest were playing second," the white-haired fellow from the Fuzzies told us. He casually walked to the table and grabbed the gig poster, holding it up and pointing. "See, Diddies are on second." We looked at the poster, confused. Apparently, he was right. But we had never seen that poster. "Oh, true..." Tommy replied. "Hmm, okay." The fellow sat back on his chair and lit another cigarette. It was odd, because we had organised this gig at the UFO, and placed The Fuzzies second and Diddies Kong Quest third. But according to The Fuzzies, we didn't organise this show at all...
Diddies Kong Quest were hanging out on the street, surrounded by a flock of their friends. More were arriving in cars and joining the assemblage. We told them about the situation. "Oh what? We can't play now. We are still waiting for our drummer," Izaak, frontman of Diddies, said in response. "You told us that we were playing third." Time was ticking, and the stage was growing tired waiting for the next band. So we went off and spoke amongst ourselves, trying to solve the complications. "Well, Diddies Kong Quest definitely can't play. The Fuzzies will have to play second," Ethan said. Why does every band want to play third?? "We could play now," Tommy suggested. The idea had merit, but didn't hold.
Eventually, after about an hour of randomness, the Fuzzies took to the stage. If they held any frustrations, they were quickly dispelled through their loud and thrashy music. We head banged with them, pleased that they finally conceded and were at last playing music. But we were the only ones in the crowd. The Diddies Kong Quest gang stayed outside, waiting for the main act.
And when Diddies Kong Quest took to the stage (third, of course), the room seemed to pack out. Their followers couldn’t get close enough to the stage. “They brought a lot of people didn’t they,” Toby said. “Yeah really,” I replied. “Do you think they’ll stick around for SHEEP?” “Na probably not aye,” Tommy said.
When their show started, it became clear what was going on. “THIS IS OUR LAST SHOW!” One of them yelled into the mic. “THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR COMING!” Their followers cheered in response. What followed was 40 minutes of pure, off-the-leash performance with enough raw energy to power all the houses in New Lynn for the next five weeks. They were having such a wild time on stage, we couldn’t help but catapult ourselves into the mosh and thrash about. It was no wonder they had the crowd - this was no Fuzzies show, nor was it a SHEEP show. This was a Diddies Kong Quest show!
And then, at last, we were up. But it was already too late - everybody had left. Tommy was right. The crowd didn’t stick around, except for a handful of our Auckland allies and Ethan. We played as we normally would, giving it our meatiest effort even if there was no crowd to throw it at. Although, I didn’t pull out manic-mode. I just resorted to the head bob to keep the boil’s temper at bay. But Toby went hard. He had no choice in the matter, for it was how he wrote the drum parts - heavy hitting, fast paced, and relentless. I glanced over mid-performance, feeling sheepish for only having to shake my fingers a little bit, while it was required that he be a drum-stick wielding juggernaught. He smashed it at every gig. UFO was no exception.
The show was neither satisfying or disappointing. It just was what it was - we didn't expect that every show of the tour would be epic.
As we were backing out of the UFO carpark, the white-haired fellow from the Fuzzies strolled up to the Wagon. Tommy wound down the window. “Really sorry about tonight aye,” he said. “Just miscommunication, that’s all. Everybody had fun! Doesn’t matter!” He was in good spirits about the situation. “Aww yeah it’s all good aye, like, these things happen, you know,” Tommy said. Leaning against the Emerald Wagon, the fellow looked at each one of us crammed inside. “You’re on tour now aye? Where to next, Tauranga was it? Well, I’ll tell you something." He craned his head further into the Wagon. "You have no idea what’s ahead of ya!”
Part of me wanted to tell him that we did know. But he was right. Anything could happen on tour.
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