Tech N9ne ignites Powerstation with lyrical acrobatics and earthquake bass.
Auckland’s Powerstation is no stranger to heavy-hitting live acts, but tonight, the venue is stripped bare. No elaborate stage setup, no DJ decks. Just an open platform for lyrical firepower.
Welcome to a Strange Music Inc. showcase, where the beats hit harder than a freight train and the rhymes come faster than your brain can process. Tech N9ne is in town, and he’s brought label mate Joey Cool along for the ride.
For nearly 25 years, Aaron Dontez Yates, better known as Tech N9ne, has been a relentless force in Hip-Hop, blurring the lines between underground grit and mainstream appeal.
Hailing from Kansas City, Missouri, the 53-year-old Rap veteran still delivers with precision and rapid-fire flow that made him a legend.
But Tech isn’t just a lyrical machine, he’s a savvy businessman. In 1999, he co-founded Strange Music Inc., an independent empire now distributed by Virgin Music Group, under the global giant Universal Music Group
Over the years, Strange Music has become a launchpad for a stacked roster of artists. And Tech himself? Twenty-three albums deep and still going strong. Proof that his grind is as relentless as his flow.
As the night kicks off, the mainly South Auckland crowd shuffles in, decked out in baseball caps and hoodies arriving straight off the very streets where rappers are born.
Initially, the venue is less than half full, but as Joey Cool takes the stage, the room swells to about three-quarters capacity. The phones go up—this is the era of capturing every moment, and the fans make sure they’ve got their digital souvenirs.
Joey commands the stage with confidence, hitting the crowd with multiple call-and-response chants of Say hell yeah! Say hell yeah! Say fuck yeah!
The sub-bass rumbles so violently that it feels like an underground train is passing beneath the venue. At a chest-collapsing 26 Hertz (Hz), the low-end frequencies aren’t just heard, they’re physically felt, sending waves through the crowd like an internal massage. Heads nod, smiles spread, and bodies sway in unison.
Mid-set, Joey makes the fans his priority, stepping forward to shake hands with almost every front-row attendee. An old-school move that earns him more than just applause. It’s the kind of fan engagement that makes for lifelong followers. As he leaves the stage we prepare for the main act.
Unusually, the pre-show music features the man himself.
As the sound engineer spins Welcome to the Midwest, the crowd knows it’s time. And then, he’s here. Tech N9ne enters the stage dressed in white including white gloves, dark shades and a bandanna and immediately rips into Stamina with the kind of ferocity that only he can deliver.
Machine-gun flows, razor-sharp precision, and an energy that could set the stage on fire. This is Tech at his finest. The Kansas City icon doesn’t just perform, he attacks the mic, commanding the crowd with every syllable.
Backed by thunderous beats and a hyped-up audience, he commands his live Hip-Hop dominance.
From the moment the first note dropped, the air thickened with bass so deep it felt like a force of nature. In great rapper style, the low-end frequencies weren’t just heard, they were felt.
The sub-bass rolled through the crowd like a shockwave, rattling bones, shaking walls, and making the ground pulse like an aftershock.
At the low-end level, the bass wasn’t just sound. It was an experience. A deep, gut-wrenching, full-body massage from the inside out. Some shows hit your ears. This one gripped your entire nervous system.
The air is thick with weed smoke, the green smelling haze rising like incense, adding an extra layer of euphoria to the night.
Tech N9ne, never one to ignore his fans, pulls a brilliant move. Grabbing phones from the front row and flipping them into selfie mode, recording himself in real-time before handing them back. It’s a masterstroke in modern showmanship, giving fans the kind of exclusive footage they’ll be showing off for years.
Midway through his set, Tech N9ne’s lyrical prowess reaches peak velocity. His syllable-packed delivery remains sharp, every word slicing through the bass-heavy beats with precision.
He keeps the crowd engaged, reacting to their shouts with an off-the-cuff response. People are shouting things at me, but I can’t read lips, but I can read pussy lips. The crowd erupts. It’s raw, unfiltered, and exactly what they came for.
If you’ve ever wondered what it feels like to be inside a sonic earthquake, Tech N9ne just delivered. Tech unleashed a seismic event, rattling the venue’s foundations with the kind of sub-bass that could make a freight train blush.
Tonight’s show isn’t just about the music. It’s about the experience. At one point, Tech jokes about the previous night’s mishap. “We didn’t get this far last night because the mother fucking alarm went off and everyone left, referring to his previous night’s performance in Wellington. No false alarms tonight, just relentless energy, bouncing bodies, and even a few rogue pieces of lingerie landing on the stage.
The lighting rig pulsed in sync with the beats, turning the venue into a living, breathing organism of sound and colour.
And the crowd? They gave as good as they got—arms raised, bodies swaying, faces lit with the kind of bliss that only comes from being utterly consumed by the moment.
With each drop, the venue became an ocean of movement. Fans weren’t just dancing, they were caught in the current, riding waves of sound that pulsed through the space.
Tech N9ne commanded the stage with an effortless swagger, lacing hypnotic melodies over the relentless low-end onslaught.
As the final track faded into the night, the air hung heavy with the residue of something truly special. Walking out, lungs still vibrating, the only thought left was this. Some shows you remember. Others you feel for days.
Tech N9ne proves once again why he’s one of the most respected independent artists in the game. The man doesn’t just perform, he takes over. And Auckland? It was damn sure ready for the takeover.
Paul Marshall
Photography by Leonie Moreland
Tech N9ne
Joey Cool
