It must’ve been the 90s. Me, the Jack Johnson, and a bunch of old muso mates parked up on the sand in Raglan, passing around the devil’s cabbage, the fire roaring, talking rubbish about surfing and life while Jack plucked away under the Southern Cross.
I remember thinking right then, mate… I’ll probably never hear anyone with this much heart and warmth in their voice again.
Last night at the Powerstation… yeah. Turns out I was wrong. Very wrong.
When I got asked to review Ziggy Alberts, honestly, I wasn’t exactly fizzing. I threw on Spotify, poked around YouTube and thought, sweet, an evening of cruisy acoustic stuff—nice, but nothing groundbreaking. I was gearing up for a big ol’ yawn-fest if I’m being honest.
But holy hell — the guy absolutely blew me away.
Ziggy just walks on like he’s wandered in from a beach bonfire — barefoot, flared jeans, a grin that stops you mid-sentence, and a mullet so glorious it should have its own Instagram page.
But it’s not the look — it’s the vibe. He radiates passion. You can feel he lives his music, not just plays it.
Every track hit differently live. Runaway rolled out like a warm breeze, Love Me Now felt like therapy you didn’t ask for but definitely needed, and Laps Around the Sun genuinely had the whole room swaying like kelp under a tide.
When he dropped Rewind, you could feel 1000 people silently going through their last three breakups.
The crowd looked like they’d all just paddled in from a Raglan surf trip — sun-kissed, sandy, blonde streaks everywhere.
Mostly mid-20s to 30s women who were clearly there for the full Ziggy Experience — and who can blame them? The guy’s a handsome rooster. But what gets you isn’t the face or the hair — it’s how he makes the room feel. He has this way of talking like he’s known you since Form Two camp.
Then came the moment of the night.
Security literally guided him into the middle of the Powerstation floor — and suddenly he’s standing there, completely surrounded, playing like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
Everyone had their phones out but respectfully kept their distance. No one acted like a muppet. No one grabbed at him. No one yelled something dumb to impress the boys.
If I stood in the middle of the Powerstation with a mic, someone would 100% try to snatch it, scream SEND IT! and attempt a shoey.
But Ziggy? Untouched. He played like a seasoned pro who’s spent ten years living out of a guitar case — relaxed, confident, in total control of the vibe.
He wrapped up with Together, and I swear the entire crowd turned into one big collective hug. Couples holding each other, strangers smiling, that strange little magic that only happens when an artist is truly tuned in.
Walking out, I had that same feeling I had back on that Raglan beach — that some artists don’t just sing songs.
They warm you from the inside out.
And last night, Ziggy Alberts lit the fire.
Aaron Gascoigne
Photography by Chloe Tredgett
