
Hamilton heads... remember Defy? Remember F.T.D? Ha ha There's a mail order in the states going by the same name with a similar logo.
p.s. officially most stupid and pointless post ever!!
Concrete Jungle is resource created for locating and sharing skateboard spots in and around Auckland city. This resource will challenge the idea of ‘secret spots’ but shit, its time to give it up everyone!! In the end everyone wins, more spots for everyone. When I receive a spot I will go take photos and put it up on the site. To send in a spot email me at skatezombie13@gmail.com with the location (and photo if you have one) and Ill go check it and put it up!
Arriving fresh off the Revival Tour (bring it here next time!) Frank Turner, a leading light in the new generation of English acoustic guitar toting troubadours, was here to play his first gig in the land of the long white cloud.
With very little setup (a guitar and a mic don’t require a great deal of setting up after all), and a brief introduction, Frank kicked off with the lead track from his second album, Love, Ire & Song, followed swiftly by Try This At Home , the second track off his newest album Poetry of the Deed.
From there, with Frank as our garrulous tour guide, we were led through a selection of songs from all of his albums, a few covers (an accapella rendition of traditional folk staple Barbara Allen being a highlight) and even a couple of new songs (called Steve and Dave respectively).
While his last two albums have been mostly full band affairs the songs translated well into the stripped down context of the show, the band only being missed when we were informed that Sons of Liberty and Reasons Not to be an Idiot couldn’t be played without them. But, apart from those minor omissions, the set consisted of everything (I would imagine) the audience was there to hear
Thousands of miles from home in a room full of strangers Frank’s constant touring is evident in his comfort at being on stage and his ability to engage with the audience. From dragging an audience member and one of the opening acts on stage to play harmonica solos (he’d forgotten his neck brace), to sharing stories from his deep dark anarchist past, his charm and humour (and dimples) kept the audiences interest throughout the show
Smiles were aplenty throughout the night but it was only towards the end of the show that the crowd really found their voice. Photosynthesis found Frank encouraging a sing along, and it was all the prompting the audience needed. Hands raised and punching the air we bellowed along with Frank, lost in the spirit of the song and the moment; forgetting briefly that it was nearly midnight on a Tuesday and we had work early the next day, or that a two hour drive home still loomed. And while there weren’t as many of these beer in the air, arms round strangers, sing yourself hoarse type moments I’d hoped for the ones that did occur more than made up for it.
So, with the final lines of Ballad of Me and My Friends ringing in our ears, it was over; out into the cold Auckland night, smiling with the experience and memory of what one man, his passion, talent and guitar are capable of. Thanks, Frank.