Head Like A Hole – Station Village, Lower Hutt – May 18, 2017

May of 2017, to mark the 25th anniversary of the release of Head Like a Hole’s debut album 13 and Head Like a Hole are embarking on an extensive 12 date national tour.   Tonight, it was the band’s ‘home’ town of Lower Hutt that got to get its freak on when the country’s craziest buggers shook up a sports bar in the sleepy little suburb of Alicetown. 

Before introducing one of their early ‘hits’, Penut, Booga Beasley shared a tale about drunkenly staggering over the local rail bridge (which precariously spans the Hutt River) back to his mate, Nigel’s place to stuff their faces of his mum’s corn beef sandwiches and then later on that night hurled everything back up onto the bathroom carpet. Ah, memories of growing up in Naenae and the Hutt, he reminisced.

And tonight, a little older but probably not wiser here they were again back in the The Hutt surrounded by a fair collective of their faithful. There were plenty of solid dudes in black tees, all short hair and goatees but also a range of other punter types, shapes and sizes, too.

When it came out, 13 was the perfect antidote to the crass commercial grunge rock of the day.  It was like chucking Fugazi, Chillis and Metallica into a blender without attaching the lid!  They were skilled and talented from the get-go but HLAH never took themselves seriously.

The band were warmed up by locals Curly Jewels, a Lower Hutt heavy four piece.  Janelle Pollock led her band with some solid meat’n’potatoes rock, loosely based on the Paramore model, with some stokin’ bass from Andy Van Der Heyden and serious grinding courtesy of axeman Aaron Ludlow.

HLAH were on next filing through the crowd like cartoon rock stars to the strains of the Rocky Theme before thundering into Hole, the first track on their album 13, followed so closely by Life’s a Joke and Never Mind Today that there was genuine fear of a nose-to-tail crash!

These songs are all fast and furious mini-maelstroms of funk and metal overlaid, peppered by Booga’s indecipherable lyrics.  Understanding was not what the night was about.  Booga’s boundless energy fired the room as they continued through the album knocking off the slightly funky Afro Surprise, the gnarly Wrapped in Death, and the wacky single Fish Across Face, a real party favourite tonight.

Little Fatman also went down well, especially with Booger’s miming and gruesome gestations illustrating the song.   The aforementioned Penut got the tale of the nigh and Big Mouth; Narcotics, Noise and Nakedness slammed home the album’s outing.  Although nobody was dropping their daks, thank the gods!

Ritual Groovemeister still shows what skill this band has mixing their fusion and witchery into a heady brew.  I guess the only thing missing from tonight was the presence of (previous) drummer Mark Hamill with his raw nakedness, demonic tattoos and massive body length dreadlocks.  His metallic, drumming was always such a trademark of the group.  Of course, this has been long usurped by Mike Franklin-Browne, who’s equally as evil on the skins.

The others, Nigel Regan, Andrew Ashton and Simon Nicholls all powered through the night as if it was a race to the top.  If they dropped a note of missed a beat no one would know, such was their proficiency.  12 completed the album’s set before carrying on with a few more hits and myths including Corn, Wet Rubber and Hootenanny (gloriously assisted by a mysterious female trumpet player).  At one point Booga announced another guest Sebastian Bach, who umped up to do a number.  Yes, you read right, he of the 80’s hair band Skid Row.  He’s still sporting a log golden mane of hair and can wallop out the songs like before.  I’m glad I got a photo because his appearance was short and sweet, as he quickly dissolved into the crowd again.

Towards the end of the night they snuck in Glory Glory (Hallelujah) and the famously sleazy reworking of Springsteen’s I’m On Fire, just cos they could.  This was always dripping with irony and finished the night off in perfect style.  Good to see these boys back in the school yard, causing mischief and raucous chaos.  I know they’re getting too old for it but who really cares?  I think it would be fair to say that everyone who went along got their money’s worth, pogo-ing around the flor like Mexican jumping beans on acid.  No doubt they’ll be a few sore necks in the office on Friday.  Still an awesome night.  Can’t wait for the Flik Y’Self Off Y’Self tour when it comes in a few years!

Tim Gruar

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