Tony Hadley, the voice of Spandau Ballet, had slipped into town, and there were seven hundred or more delighted souls ready to welcome the self-professed soul boy. At 65, maybe Soul Gent is more apropos.
It was a bit of a night of surprises, if the truth be told. The first was that I got a park 50 metres from the venue – the streets and car parks were full. Maybe it was my Instinction.
As I slipped past the line to get my press pass a rather uncouth woman yelled, oi, there’s a bloody queue here mate! Ah, Auckland can be so provincial. That was pretty much the last unsophisticated interaction of the evening, it would be fair to say.
The Powerstation is in good shape these days; clean, sharp, great staff, and the leaner by the balcony is still the best spot to take it all in.
Jan is a great performer, a terrific songwriter and one of those New Zealand music taonga whose contribution we need to be reminded of now and again. As she quipped, it was 33 years since she’d been at the Powerstation, before launching into a few of her arch, punchy, clever songs from a remarkably broad and deep songbook.
From her latest album to her first, we got It’s My Sin, The Way You Feel, Geraldine and a virgin airing for Silver Sheen a Cassandra’s Ears song, her student-y Dunedin band that kicked it all off.
As my new friends for the night Narelle and Vicky said, she’s funny! She looks amazing. There you go. We got a new one off her upcoming Mod Opera, (uh-huh), which had an Eddie Rayner-esque intro and some slick chord changes, and she still had enough time to squeeze in the delicious Melusine. A fun and brave set.
Indeed, he started with Nina Simone’s absolute classic Feeling Good. Sat on a bar stool, I wondered if we were going to get a Sinatra-esque crooner set, Big Band Ballet rather than Soul-Stomping-Spandau. I needn’t have panicked. The big guy was just getting warmed up. Testing those tonsils, perhaps.
And then he was off. And into To Cut a Long Story Short off that first Spandau album. As it was no doubt intended to do, it took me right back, to a shitty high school life in drab Eighties’ Auckland, where in little corners like Quays nightclub, the synth-driven sway of Spandau, early Simple Minds and frilly-shirted Duran Duran pulsed the dancefloor crazy.
Tony stood tall and true in front of Spandau – they wore kilts and coonskin hats, leather pants, knotted scarves. It was androgynous, outré, risqué. And here we were, 45 years later, and that weedy synth line rang out, and Tones delivered those lyrics in a sharp blue suit, shiny black boots, paisley scarf knotted just so. Times winged chariot, and all that.
The crowd may have been slightly bemused, but once he got into Highly Strung, off 1984 album Parade we were off and flying.
And these were the songs the mostly full Powerstation crowd came to hear: Only When You Leave, Round and Round, Lifeline. I’ll Fly For You, a personal favourite that I never thought anyone much else cared about, was a mid-set highlight – its subtle dynamics and powerhouse chorus suddenly coming alive in that space, the only misfire being an ugly shredding guitar solo where the forever-bequiffed Steve Norman used to gently weave delicious sax notes.
That dreaded moment – here’s a song off the new album came and went: Alibi was instantly catchy, Turn Me On left plenty of space for that big voice to soar. Phew.
The Voice and The Songs were why we were here, after all. As my chums remarked, if you closed your eyes, you really were back in your teen bedroom in 1984, vinyl going around, dreaming big. His voice is in staggeringly good shape (could be the Jack Daniel’s he oiled it with throughout the evening) and, unlike some singers on the legacy circuit, not only was he absolutely ready to hit the high and long notes of old, he embellished the bastards and took some of the melody lines to even greater heights. His technique, phrasing, breathing and control were remarkable.
Or, as you’d expect with the evening’s highlight True, sang the whole thing, word for word. This time the guitar solo judiciously picked out the original sax solo note for note; by George we sang along to that too.
And at the mention of George – Mr Michael may have succeeded in making Queen’s Somebody to Love his own with that soaring performance they still play on high rotate on the Breeze (I heard it at the doctor’s, OK? Of course I listen to BFM. Jesus.) But Tones gave the late George a run for his not inconsiderable money tonight.
So, if True brought out the tracks of our tears, then final song Gold warmed our hearts. And his, I reckon. like Ed Sheeran a month ago, Tony really, really loves what he does. He was engaged, authentic, funny, had a genuine band moment when he completely missed a cue on Lifeline and I think, like us, he had a bloody marvellous night.
For me, I never thought I’d get the opportunity to hear Chant #1 live, ever, and strangely, that underrated club smash nailed the whole night for me, more than the big hits, really.
To be reminded of your youth by a Bryan Ferry-esque sophisticate with a voice that could melt titanium, singing songs that, despite the odd terrible line (these are my salad days/slowly being eaten away anyone?!) show that along with The Voice, The Song is something that can survive and even thrive over decades, and can deliver joy and satisfaction for a couple of hours, and that, despite the chaos and destruction all around, some things are, to paraphrase Tony Hadley, indestructible!
Well, that’s got to be kinda the point of a live show, eh guv. A cracking good one at that. Loved it!
Michael Larsen
Photography by Leonie Moreland
Tony Hadley
Jan Hellriegel
