Xcalibur – Lord of S@x, Woodman Entertainment’s latest creation, was launched at Videopepo last Wednesday. After being held up at customs for 4 hours, the jaded, yet still jaw-droppingly alluring actors arrived. I felt out of place amongst the other guests, who didn’t seem phased at all about the whole scene. Because of their late arrival the planned live shows didn’t go ahead, the audible grunts and moans from the invitees reflected the disappointment of the collective. I did though get a chance to have my picture taken, get autographs and chat to the overseas vixens, namely Sophie Paris, Divinity Love and Nessa Devil (ring any bells to anyone out there?).

Although not as dazzling in real life as in print or on screen, they are 10 times more intriguing. Oddly, I was lost for words, and found myself speaking gooble-de-gook. I did manage to invite them to a party that night though, which they politely declined on account of their draining customs ordeal.

If you’ve been in the high-country for the last few months, or away from all communications, you may not have known that The Chemical Brothers played in Auckland last Thursday. My opinion is 25% good and the rest not favourable. Waiting an hour to get served at the bar is enough to get anyone in a foul mood, so the bad first: The “brothers” appeared to have done no research on NZ, playing music that left 90% of the crowd flat-footed. This wasn’t helped by the 2 warm-up acts, Minuit and James Holroyd, who played well but in relative darkness, and with no real volume. So we meandered about the stadium catching up with people.

I recorded most of the gig on my Sony and watched it the next day with a clear head, but came to the same conclusion; that I’d been let down by The Chemical Brothers. Without the superb full curtain of visuals the music would have been acceptable for background music at a family dinner party. For all we knew the entire show could have easily been pre-recorded, due to the non-existent crowd interaction. If I’d been on acid it would have been the best show ever, what with the yawning 5+ minute rolling build-ups and psychedelic graphics, it would have been pure heaven. Rant over, it was great to see the Vector Arena alive with people of all shapes and sizes, like bees in a hive moving this way and that, and the hi-tech electronic machinery on-stage rivalled something you’d expect to see at NASA HQ. After the gig we dispersed to Forte, Flight and Pony. All were on fire with happy faces so this was my Thursday highlight.

Being a leap year the Auckland Bridge Bungy Jump boys held a special day and threw 158 people off the bridge (a new record for them). I went along to the after party for a bacon sammy, some generously poured Jack Daniels, great live music and of course schmoozing. I couldn’t stay long though as it was time for the long awaited 40th birthday party for Andrew (aka Harry) Ferguson across in Ponsonby.

The invitees built up and up to well over 100 at its height. The dancefloor took a hammering due to Dougal Swift’s cranking house party tunes. Karn Hall stopped in to spin some classics, and with his oozing charm whisked away the belle of the party. It’s very rare you get that number of quality people in one place, so the vibe was tremendous and many new friendships were forged.

At midnight I ducked away to see Roger Sanchez mix at Met Bar. He barrelled in like a true megastar and was on the stage playing within 2 minutes. I’d forgotten how buff the fellow was, massive, and glimmering with wealth. My age showed, and not handling the intense sardine like crowd I went downstairs for a boogie and a breather, then headed back to Harry’s party.

We stayed till near sunrise then left the 40 stayers to their own devices. My 2nd or 3rd wind kicked in on the way home, so I stayed up and watched Love Actually for the umpteenth time.

I had a hand in the organisation of The Miss Kingslander Bikini & Talent Competition, so spent the majority of the day running around getting that ready. But I couldn’t resist ducking back to Harry’s again to see how they were faring. 20 remained, chatting, dancing, chilling, snuggling, strutting and observing. I had 2 strong vodkas and began to delve to their level. What fun.
Sadly, or fortunately, I couldn’t stay; the bikini comp’s start time was drawing near. The show went well. It was casual, occasionally improvised and the judges did a fine job in choosing the true top 5 (who go through to the final on March 15th). The male Zoolander walk-off at the end though was hilarious and the $100 bar-tab went to the right bloke, who incidentally can take his underwear off without removing his jeans.

Taking Guccied up models to Regan, Mike and Dom’s “Brown” party probably wasn’t a good move. There was a mud wrestling pit, fake dirty nappies strewn, Double Brown galore and crass chit-chat. I didn’t mind at all, but they did, so I took a few to see a late comedy show at The Classic.

Being late meant we only got to see Mrs Peacock and Jan Maree, but that was enough. I’ve never been much of a heckler at comedy gigs but for some reason I was on a high and felt it prudent, and in doing so won an X rated magazine.

The last stop for Saturday evening was the Warriors hard dance party at The Transmission Room. We took 3 flights of stairs into the earth and were hit by a heat wave. The VIP room was worse. I guess that’s why it was near empty, but my friend’s rider was the opposite. Not that I needed any more, I indulged and danced all over the show till 6, when I began to sober up and realised my shabby state.

Sunday wasn’t going to let me off lightly. By midday I was at The Civic checking out the sound check for the Toto gig on later that evening. Impressive was an understatement. The postponed (from the previous day) Rock the Park at 3 Kings Reserve was a thrill. Numbers were down on expectations, but with inclement weather and a date change, it wasn’t bad. I would have gone just for the giveaways galore for all; hats, energy drinks, coffee, chocolate, hot dogs etc.

Electing to sit on the hill in a bean-bag I had a great view of the band, mosh-pit and the distance. Not going to many of these rock concerts I was constantly surprised to find out who I was talking cods-wallop to. The lead singer of Thirsty Merc, guitarist from The Feelers, drummer of Elemeno P; all proved to be top guys (for the life of me I can’t remember their names though), and very worthy of the hoards of fans that were screaming for their attention.

At 6pm I gave up my bean-bag, slipped on a shirt and tie and rocked on over to The Civic to catch Luke Thompson warm-up for the main act Toto (you know they sing the songs Africa, Hold The Line, Gorgy Porgy and Rosanna). Luke was super. This was his first big concert gig, his witty and friendly personality when meshed with his Jack Johnson/Neil Finn-like songs won the crowd and I just wish they’d given him more than 30 minutes on stage.

Toto’s act was a surprise. I was expecting old style rock classics, you know something for Mum, but got fresh rock, a plethora of solos and little audience interaction. They played for a solid 2 hours and for guys that have been doing it for over 30 years I can’t see them hanging up their score sheets any time soon; their pure passion was clear. Upon leaving the stage the crowd chanted for a good 3-4 minutes before they returned, 1 by 1, and erupted into their most well-known song, Africa. It was a fitting end to a night where I learnt an awful lot about rock concerts. In fact my ears are still ringing.