Fur Patrol – Double Whammy, 7 September 2024: Review

8th September 2024

There are some bands that transcend time, capturing the hearts of an entire generation. Fur Patrol is one of those bands.

Their debut album Pet left an indelible mark on New Zealand music, with their chart-topping single Lydia dethroning none other than Destiny’s Child back in the day.

Flash forward to tonight, and though they may have weathered some lineup changes, most notably the departure of guitarist Steve Wells in 2004, the core trio of Julia Deans (vocals and guitar), Andrew Bain (bass), and Simon Braxton (drums) proved they’re far from done.

The audience erupted with applause before a single note was played, and the love for Fur Patrol was palpable. From the moment they hit the stage, there was a crackling energy in the room.

Simon immediately began hammering out a chaotic rhythm, full of anti-ensemble beats, while Andrew teased a wall of feedback with his bass. It felt messy, raw, like something was about to explode. And it did.

They kicked things off with Now from Pet, launching the audience into a nostalgia-fuelled frenzy.

Julia, despite grappling with her guitar and some initial technical hiccups, quickly settled into her role as the band’s undeniable force.

By the time they hit Andrew, the crowd was fully engaged, singing every word back at the band.

Fur Patrol might be a trio now, but their sound is as big as ever, with Andrew’s thundering bass lines and Simon’s drumming making up for any perceived gap.

Julia Deans, as always, was flawless from the first note, her voice cutting through the air like a seasoned rock veteran.

Fur Patrol, a band that needs no introduction, kept the stage banter sparse, staying quiet through the first two songs, but the connection with the audience was undeniable. As Julia playfully quipped, so nice to hear you singing along, you don’t know what that means to us. The crowd roared back in appreciation.

By the time they launched into their first-ever released song, the energy in the room had skyrocketed.

With every beat, the temperature rose, as the mounting sweat in the room hit your nostrils, both from the heat of the lights and the crowd’s non-stop dancing. The sweat and euphoria built hand-in-hand, creating a raw, electric atmosphere that only Fur Patrol can deliver.

The audience was a mixed bag. Trendy Ponsonby types in paisley shirts and smart casual wear mingled with roughly shaven, edgy dudes and women who looked like they had a history with this band.

Despite their diverse backgrounds, they were all there for one reason, to lose themselves in Fur Patrol’s timeless sound.

The night was a blend of nostalgia and sheer Rock energy, reminding us all why Fur Patrol still commands such respect on the stage.

Julia, though, was the heart of the performance. Her presence on stage was magnetic, even if she did drop a few plectrums along the way.

At one point, she laughed about losing a black pick on a black stage, a moment saved by Andrew who passed her another.

Then there was the moment she plugged her guitar into the wrong amp, prompting the crowd to cheerfully help her remember, and shout Amp! whenever she swapped guitars.

But once everything clicked, Fur Patrol was untouchable. By the time Precious came around, they were fully in command, the audience hanging on every note.

And then came Lydia, the song that ignited their career.

Julia, ever the maestro, pulled back from the mic, letting the crowd take over, and the result was a spine-tingling, stadium-worthy singalong. You could feel the weight of 24 years of history in that moment. The chorus rang out like a rugby anthem, louder and more unified than anything you’d hear at an All Blacks game.

The audience swayed like salmon swimming upstream, caught in the hypnotic pull of the music, heads bobbing in unison. The sea of paisley-shirted fans, looking like a retro throwback themselves, bopped along as if time hadn’t moved at all.

When Tom Lark took the stage, there was no grand entrance or blaring riff to announce their presence, but that’s exactly how this band rolls.

At one point, Tom quipped, the toughest rock is sometimes the slowest rock, a line that summed up their style perfectly, as Lark leaned into that groove, building up their set with a leisurely, unhurried confidence that somehow managed to both captivate and draw laughs from the crowd.

A standout moment had to be the drummer. Not content with just keeping time, he whipped out a harmonica mid-beat, managing to juggle both instruments without missing a hit. It was a quirky, multi-talented display that injected the set with an extra layer of cool, like something Neil Young might do if he was jamming with his mates at a backyard BBQ.

There were hints of that classic Young influence throughout the night. Gentle guitar melodies, and an easy-going vibe that transported the audience into a mellow headspace.

But despite the skill and musicality, there was one thing Tom Lark couldn’t quite shake off, the chatter.

The audience, as casual as the band itself, seemed a bit too relaxed at times. In quieter moments, conversations rippled through the venue, sometimes even drowning out the music. A frustrating vibe for those who came to actually listen.

And then there’s the frontman. With an uncanny resemblance to Neil from The Young Ones, he brought a sense of offbeat charisma to the performance. His dishevelled, couldn’t care less appearance fit perfectly with the band’s laid-back energy, like he’d just wandered onto the stage and decided to play a few songs for fun. It was charming in its own weird way.

In the end, Tom Lark’s set was a slow burn that left its mark. Sure, there were moments where the crowd noise threatened to take over, but the band’s quirky chemistry and unassuming style made for a night of laid-back, slightly oddball fun.

As the final chords rang out, it was clear that Fur Patrol’s legacy isn’t just one of the pasts. Their sound still resonates, and for the crowd packed into Double Whammy, tonight wasn’t just a trip down memory lane. It was a celebration of one of New Zealand’s most beloved bands

Paul Marshall