I first heard 10cc while bouncing across a paddock in a David Brown 1390 tractor, somewhere deep in the Waikato.
It was the early ’80s. I was a young farm kid with cassette tapes rattling in the glovebox, and 10cc’s music became the unexpected soundtrack to my rural adolescence.
While my mates were blasting AC/DC and Led Zep, I was alone with The Things We Do for Love, Good Morning Judge, and Dreadlock Holiday pouring out of a crusty mono speaker welded into the tractor’s cab.
That music—clever, catchy, and emotional—made its way into my blood before I even knew what Art-Pop was. It was my escape. Those tracks turned the farm into a movie set. They gave the mundane some magic.
Tonight, at Auckland’s Kiri Te Kanawa Theatre, it all came full circle.
The current incarnation of 10cc, led by the ever-composed Graham Gouldman, took the stage with calm authority and full intent.
From the opening notes, it was clear. This wasn’t a nostalgia act phoning it in. This was a band that still meant business.
Gouldman switched between a Fender Jazz Bass and a Rickenbacker guitar with the ease of a master craftsman.
They kicked things off with the upbeat swing of The Second Sitting for the Last Supper, and it was like flicking a switch. The harmonies were spot-on, the musicianship razor-sharp, the technical ability unquestionable. The arrangements were faithful, but still alive.
Gouldman—now the sole original member—was steady and composed, a man who’s spent a lifetime quietly shaping Pop history. His harmonies alongside newcomer Andy Park’s vocals were sublime.
Gouldman’s basslines and guitar riffs—always underrated—still bounce and twist with that unmistakable 10cc mischief.
Rick Fenn’s guitar tone sliced through the mix with effortless class. His playing, elegant and restrained, hinted at a David Gilmour-like touch. Think Pink Floyd, but with a 10cc wink.
Paul Burgess, behind the kit since the mid-’70s, kept the rhythm tight and tasteful. The whole band was seamless. Tight without being robotic, expressive without self-indulgence.
But let me shine a light—no, a spotlight—on the hero of the evening, at least for me. Andy Park. What a revelation!
Park is not just a vocalist—he’s a force. A singer, a percussionist, a mandolin player, a frontman.
When he sang, 10cc lifted into gear. His vocal range is stunning, perfectly suited to the band’s sound. Since joining less than a year ago, he’s brought a spark, a dynamism, that elevates the entire group.
When Andy sang, the songs soared. The band locked in. The classics came alive. But when Gouldman or Fenn took lead vocals, the energy sagged a little. The magic dimmed.
It’s no disrespect to legends—but the truth is, Andy Park brings the crisp, clear edge that these songs need today.
The sound throughout the night was tight, polished, exceptional. But I’ll say it plainly. It’s tough hearing these beloved classics sung two full tones lower. That’s a lot.
And while I understand the realities of aging voices, sometimes it felt like we were mouthing the lyrics in quiet protest, silently pleading… please, just let Andy sing it.
The setlist was glorious. Art for Art’s Sake, I’m Mandy Fly Me, Life Is a Minestrone, and The Dean and I rolled out like chapters in a book we all knew by heart.
But it was the big hitters that really landed. I’m Not in Love was stunning. The Things We Do for Love brought misty eyes and open arms.
And when Dreadlock Holiday kicked in, the whole crowd erupted. Despite the 157-degree heat being pumped into the theatre like it was a tropical resort. The entire room shouted I don’t like cricket! with joy, laughter, and just enough off-key Kiwi charm to make it feel communal.
A few of the blue-rinse brigade fainted near Gouldman—not from fan-girl hysteria, but from what could only be described as heatstroke masquerading as a musical epiphany.
What stood out most was the band’s respect for their legacy. No over-polished, modernised reworkings—just pure 10cc, played by a band who clearly still love it.
Always the thinking person’s Pop group, 10cc’s music has wit, depth, and unpredictability. And tonight, thanks largely to Andy Park, that spirit felt very much alive.
This wasn’t just another concert for me. I walked out of that theatre still hearing echoes of those old cassette tapes rattling in the tractor. I remembered the smell of diesel and wet grass. I remembered dreaming of something more—while 10cc gave me permission to be weird, to feel deeply, to find art in the everyday.
And now, decades later, I find myself falling for a new voice—one that’s breathed fresh life into a band I’ve loved for over 40 years.
His name is Andy Park.
And they were 10cc.
Forty years on, I’m still with them.
I still don’t like cricket.
But I absolutely love 10cc.
Aaron Gascoigne
Click any icon to see a full gallery of photos by Den.
Georgia Lines opened the show. Den grabbed some great shots of her in action.
