Thinking Foxes at Wine Cellar (RIP) - GIG REVIEW
Hot young band Thinking Foxes pour one out for the Wine Cellar, the home of emerging musicians for the past 20 years, as the venue closes its doors.
The Wine Cellar has closed. It’s a heartbreaking reckoning for the local music community, coming to terms with the loss of this institution that has seen artists big and small, local and international, define and redefine the sounds of Tāmaki. In its 20 years of operation, the Wine Cellar has defied the peaks and troughs of New Zealand’s fledgling economy as we’ve been battered by global forces — the GFC, the pandemic, the cozzy livvy crisis. And here we are, after all this time, saying goodbye to a foundational pillar of the local scene. It’s where I played my first gig as a headliner. It’s where I’ve spent many nights enjoying local up-and-comers, some who have stuck around and others who have faded into obscurity. Its grungy aesthetic and dive bar quality added to the rundown charm of K Road. The Wine Cellar was affordable to hire, just small enough for artists with small audiences to fill, and came with a full back line that meant the risk for hire was minimal. Losing this place is a huge blow, and while I want to be hopeful that Double Whammy will be just as accessible to local artists, I can’t help but feel the real hurt of venue closures rippling through the community. In saying all that — I am lucky enough that my good friends, Thinking Foxes, were able to secure the second-to-last slot in the Wine Cellar’s roster, and throw a hell of a gig to celebrate the legacy of this place, the same place that gave them their start, and me mine.
It’s a bitterly cold night, but St Kevin’s Arcade is teeming with life. The Karangahape sign illuminates the Rainbow Crossing, a stunning new addition to the grungy heart of Auckland City (which I hope stays up forever). In typical Wine Cellar fashion, I bump into friends out for a casual drink and a smoke. The bar has less furniture than it used to, a sign that its closing is not a hoax at all, but in fact an impending reality. I catch a little bit of Thinking Foxes’ sound check, and it’s already sounding good although the levels on the guitar need to be adjusted. I tag along for the band’s dinner at the Lim Chhour Foodcourt and we catch up on the months that we haven’t seen each other. My loaded fries take forever to arrive, and it’s probably my fault for ordering something so boring while everyone else downs brothy ramen at lightning speed. Down the far end of the foodcourt, Club Ruby, the opening act, and their friends take up half a dozen tables. Jazz musician Joe Kaptein sits alone enjoying his own meal and company. If the Wine Cellar is the heart of Auckland’s creative energy, then this foodcourt is the belly.
As Club Ruby get ready to perform, I prepare my camera. I’m new to gig photography and I know the pictures will turn out pretty shit, as I am yet to master my tools, but you’ve got to start somewhere. Thankfully there are other photographers tonight who know what they’re doing. Like a shot of adrenaline, Club Ruby unleash a riot on stage. I haven’t seen a performance this high energy in a long time. The bass player in particular thrashes around, jumping off the fold backs, headbanging his stringy hair back and forth. The two vocalists are bright and expressive, and their moments of choreography show that this is all calculated fun. The crowd are loving it. One punter in particular knows every word, every guitar solo, every change in beat. They raise their arms in worship as the guitarist slides his fingers up the fret board, and their long hair catches every glorious headbang and air guitar thrust. This was fun — good fun. I’ll be at every Club Ruby gig moving forwards.
With a sweeping ambient soundscape, Thinking Foxes make a dramatic entrance and launch into their indie alternative bangers. It’s hard to define the visual aesthetic of Thinking Foxes, but Gabe’s white pants and tucked in Hawaiian shirt is perhaps a perfect representation of the lads at play. Even though I’ve been friends with these guys for ages, this is the first time I have seen them play (I know, I’m a terrible friend). I know Luca just got in from the States that week, and Gabe was rushing around trying to print the set list just before this (in the absence of printing, they repurposed old bits of cardboard, showing that Thinking Foxes truly are very mindful in protecting the fox’s natural habitat). And even then, with all the chaos that could have transpired in these last minute dashes, the band rises to the occasion, the celebration of their new single Lemon Drop, to a room full of friends, family and randos.
Where Club Ruby brought a high octane performance, Thinking Foxes brings a more rigid but altogether cooler vibe to the room. Gabe, Luca and Taygen try their best to use all of the stage, and Noah is clearly having fun on the drums. It’s so good seeing your friends in their element, and the room drinking up everything that’s on offer. When the band play No Point, the audience becomes a chorus, repeating the iconic line “You know there is no point!” as Gabe belts out the chorus. When the guitar riff that introduces Lemon Drop hits our ears, the crowd burst into applause. The boys know what will get the crowd rowdy, even performing their own renditions of Britney Spears banger Toxic and The Killers classic Somebody Told Me. All of this is punctuated with a poignant eulogy from Taygen for the imminent closing of this beautifully rundown venue.
You can generally tell whether an audience enjoyed a performance by how long they stick around afterwards. When Thinking Foxes finish their set, the audience demand an encore, and the band stand awkwardly to the side refusing to comply. I wish they’d come out and performed Lemon Drop one last time, but maybe leaving the audience hungry for more is exactly what they intended. Let’s just say that whenever the next Thinking Foxes gig comes around, I’ll be there again, front row, cheering on my friends and demanding an encore all the same. Long after the show ends, we’re all still hanging around, chatting, catching up, having a drink or two (Red Bull for me) — a mark of how successfully Thinking Foxes held us in this space. The next day, The Beths put on the real final send off for the Wine Cellar, but I feel like this Thinking Foxes gig was the real perfect farewell, a true representation of what the Wine Cellar stands for — urgent underground artistry and community. It’s not about the big names, the radio regulars or the award winners. The Wine Cellar is for the ordinary, every day people who make music because they feel it in their bones, who are still figuring out where they sit in the tapestry of Auckland’s music scene, and who are still waiting to be discovered by the world beyond. RIP Wine Cellar, and cheers Rohan for 20 years of service to us musos just looking for a place to belong.