Joe Ghatt at Big Fan - GIG REVIEW

Alex de Vries parties with Joe Ghatt to celebrate his new album Caper and an unrelated All Blacks win.

It’s freezing, and there’s no parking in sight. The roar from the crowd at Eden Park echoes around Morningside, the stadium lights appear like a spaceship landing atop the surrounding trees. I’m lucky I have a friend who lives in the area who graciously lets me use his park, as I’m out here for a different occasion. To celebrate the release of his sophomore album, Caper, Joe Ghatt (and Friends) is finishing his national release tour at Big Fan, having just played Christchurch, Nelson and Wellington. The tour poster depicts a frolic-in-the-fields kind of night, but with the sheer cold and the electric sporting atmosphere seeping through from both the stadium and the pub across the road, tonight is no laid back affair. In fact, I find, it’s rather a party!

Opening the show is Leonard Powell - big hair, yellow Dickies raincoat, shiny black Docs. Powell is an artist who leans into the whimsical folk pop that characterises some of the more quirky parts of New Zealand’s music landscape (think Lawrence Arabia, Jed Parsons and Phoenix Foundation). Powell waits for the game to finish before starting his set, plucking away at his guitar while the audience remain glued to their phones. I find myself yapping at the bar, but as the outcome of the game becomes clear, the room begins to fill, and Powell finally begins.

An overly literal lyricist in the best way, Powell is the perfect opener, asking life’s important questions — like why do cars go faster than 100kph when it’s illegal to drive faster than 100kph? There’s something so charming in the matter-of-factness of it all, and you can’t help but smile at Powell’s small observations about the world. I think perhaps this is why his set is so enjoyable — it’s practically spoken word poetry, elevating the minutiae of the mundane into something so full of meaning. My favourite song is Powell’s ode to the women in Moccona ads, who are far too sexy to be selling cheap coffee. Powell’s use of the slogan “Moccona heft meer mmmm” as the chorus is comedic, and should probably come with a hashtag spon, but it makes you think about how ridiculous our capitalistic society is that we have created a coffee brand that is essentially sold through Nigella Lawson-esque seduction, while being the sexual awakening for teenage boys the world over.

And now the party begins. Joe Ghatt, with his Jesus-like hair and beard combo, takes to the stage with his band, and immediately starts us off with a boogie-worthy tune. It’s hard to place the genre-bending sound, which has notes of rock and folk, but also leans into a very international sound, with Latin, jazz and psychedelic elements. It makes sense then, that the percussionist is thumping away at the bongos, a saxophonist/flutist peppers each song with jazzy interludes, and Ghatt’s voice is treated more like a textural layer to the musical ensemble than as the main feature. The “and Friends” therefore carries a lot of weight, as the success of the night is entirely reliant on the band leaning on each other throughout the show.

And my god, what a show! Coming into this performance, I didn’t know what to expect. If the frolicking figures on the poster were hinting at singer-songwriter vibes, they couldn’t have been further from the reality of the crowd dancing and celebrating the winter solstice. Everything about this night feels like a celebration, perhaps even more so because this show marks the end of the tour, and the last chance for Ghatt to plug his new album. If anything, the vibes push me to the point of wanting to splurge on the vinyl and t-shirt displayed elegantly on the merch table. Riotous and borderline tribal, the energy in the room is effervescent — bobbing heads, mullets and moustaches swinging in opposite directions, arms flailing in the air. This is an appropriate response to the rhythmic music at hand, and the stage presence that Ghatt brings.

Ghatt confidently handles his guitar, and holds the whole band as they journey through downtempo undulations and uptempo provocations. He even guides them through an unrehearsed track at the beckoning of the crowd, playing his biggest hit While The Coffee Brews. Carhartt, Dickies, mullets and moustaches populate the audience, a crowd that would be equally at home in the latest cold brew cafe, yet here they really seem to be enjoying themselves, eschewing the pretentious aloofness of the truckie aesthetic in favour of genuine smiles and release to the music. At one point the percussionist brings a number of punters on stage, filling their hands with instruments, where not a single beat is hit in time, but the immense joy of being involved is enough to make their night.

The final song rings out, and the lights flash back and forth, revealing snapshots of Ghatt and his band thrashing their heads to and fro, laying everything they have on the stage, in an almost rave-like manner. Ghatt proves that having a good time can come in the most unexpected packages. In celebrating the release of his album and the closing of his tour, this night is both a pagan ritual and a cathartic overflowing of relief. If anything, the theme of the night is an uninhibited freedom to simply let loose and be yourself. While the All Blacks won the rugby just down the road, the real winner in the room is Ghatt, who has curated a performance that carries a festive and revelrous spirit.

Verdict — a win is a win.

Images supplied by Azrie Azizi.