Friday, March 19, 2010

attack of the clones (part one)

I don’t know if there’s more tweens in Auckland or if it’s just that I saw them all in one place, but every young girl on Queen Street was wearing the exact same outfit. It’s not that surprising I guess, but it seems like the Wellington youngins at least have a bit more fashionable independence to their northern counterparts. Maybe we have more alternative stores here. Maybe it’s just Auckland producing a million Lippy clones so they can identify them after dark. (As if the squealing isn’t a big enough give-away)


I have identified the all-in-one-place problem as Cobra Starship playing at The Edge that night. There were kids lined up for two blocks to get in and they all looked the same. There were about five guys in total in that line and they all looked rather a) embarrassed or b) sexually ambiguous. There were also a couple of overprotective parents thrown in the mix. I bet they enjoyed chaperoning that hormone-fuelled entourage.

It was a big weekend for the tweens then with both the Starship and Lady GaGa filling different arenas. Thrown in the mix there was the Pixies, which is why I got to observe the young ones, in case you were wondering. So wandering about mixed together were the bedazzled youth and the plaid-shirt-and-boot wearing misspent youths of yesteryear.

What surprises me the most was that at least none of those young girls were wearing heels to what was probably their first big gig. Some Pixies fans were not quite as wily as their age suggested and soldiered on with their pumps a-tappin. When will people learn?

To conclude what is a very mish-mashed post, I must say I was highly disappointed at how quickly the crowd turned on the Pixies when the lights came up after the first encore. After cheering away for a few minutes the yeahs! turned to boos at the flick of a switch. How uncouth! How unappreciative of the last hour and a half of awesomeness! It was shameful. And no sooner did they realise that they were coming out for a second half-hour-long encore with the house lights up they were back on-side with the reigning alternative rockers. By this time a lot of (foolish) people had left and missed out on the best set of the night – moving away from the Doolittle-only tracks and making waves (of mutilation – haHA!) with crowd-pleasers like Where is My Mind and Gigantic. Twenty years on from Doolittle’s release and they sounded great, the energy was high and Vector Arena was rocking.

Overall a freakin awesome concert. Best Concert Ever still goes to Fleetwood Mac, but it was pretty high up there.

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