AC/DC and the Running of the Bogans

One of the best things about living in the Capital this time of year is the amount of events and general activities on offer. SummerCity Festival cranks them out and you really need to schedule yourself in order not to miss out. True, I didn’t make down to the botanical gardens for any of the concerts, or the rotunda for salsa dancing, or Films by Starlight, however I did manage to get my arse along to the bogan-tastic spectacular that is AC/DC... Twice.

Having secured a ticket in ‘Pit 1’ at the Thursday night gig (28th), myself and a handful of friends donned the standard uniform:  jeans (black or blue) and a black tee-shirt.

Our group decided to have a pre-concert session at Macs Brewery on the waterfront in order to watch the running of bogans.

(Click here for the definition of ‘Bogan’ compliments of Urban Dictionary) 

And let me tell you, there were some glorious specimens to behold; a veritable sea of black tee shirts and gorgeous groomed mullets as far as the eye could see. Bands of every genre were represented on their bellies although most sported the Acca Decca branding. I was also surprised to see such a variety of age demographics represented in the crowd, in addition to plenty of 'cool kids' (with angular swedish hair cuts and square Ray Bans) poncing about. 

After a few jugs of beer and a very long walk to the stadium up the waterfront, we practically swam through the crowds and the sunshine on our journey to the caketin. We were even treated to a serenade of bagpipes to the tune of "Its a Long Way to the Top" en route.

Upon arrival, we immediately wrestled our way to the front of the mob to catch the tail end of the Shihad set and try and secure our prime location for the main event.

To be perfectly honest, I am not a seasoned, war hardened concert goer, nor do I pretend to be. I’m little, I get smooshed, I bruise easy and I can’t really see much due to said shortness. Most of all, I value my hearing.

However because we were attending as a group, I thought I might fare better.

I was mistaken. 

Not that I didn’t have a good time, I was just not keen to journey to the centre of the pit with the rest of them for dancing, sweating and other assorted pushy-shovey activities.

I managed to hold ground nearish the front for the first few songs with my trusty sidekick Jordan, however by the 5th song in the crowd was starting to surge and I had been vomited on twice - I decided I would be better placed near the back of that crowd with the more sensible people.

 Angus solo on raised moving platform

The show itself: The word ‘Epic’ was created to describe such a concert. Having worked in Event Management the last 5 years, I have had the opportunity to catch a fair few concerts here and there, but this was beyond anything I had seen (including the Rolling Stones and U2). Booming pyros, huge props and set pieces, lights zooming, graphics galore – it was a feast for the eyes and ears. (P.S. I was a nana and wore ear plugs – very sexy).

There was also an excessive amount of cleavage on show, and that was just the middle age men. However during one particular song, a combination of big screens, peer pressure, alcohol and a steady-handed camera man resulted in what the boys will forever refer to as “boobie heaven.”

 Brian amping up the crowd for Ms Rosie

Rosie Ridin' the rock n roll train

The rest of our night following the concert was fairly standard Wellington shenanigans. The Business were ripping it up at our local haunt, Molly Malones, and much more dancing and sweating ensued. I’m just glad we grabbed a sausage roll from BP on the way to town, otherwise I might have been in a bad way the next morning…Needless to say I didn’t roll into bed until around 4:30am (and this was a school night too!). However being young and spry, I was able to get myself out the door and to work by 8:45…a picture of beauty, of course.

BUT – for some reason…

I did it all again on Saturday night……thanks to a free ticket.

The Saturday night concert turned out to be slightly more rock and roll (in my perspective anyway) due to the following:

1)    We (English, Myself and the Warrick) got access to a VIP area and were treated to free drinks throughout the concert

2)    In the VIP area, we met some interesting characters, including this crazy rocker dude named Scott. He invited us to join his group for a few quick beers in his hotel after the concert as he “wasn’t going to make it through them all by himself”. Turns out it was a penthouse suite.

3)    In the suite, we were able to partake in his bar (well stocked with spirits) and someone busted out a guitar – we had a sing along. The only thing missing was a TV going out the window and someone on the roof yelling “I am a golden god”

4)    After leaving, an even MORE epic dance session at Molly’s ensued, involving jigging and strange ‘leaning’ dance move compliments of Scott. His credit card was on the bar for our tab. What?!

5)    We closed down 3 pubs and left a trail of destruction and empty glasses in our wake. Literally, the lights were on and the bouncers were chasing us out. English even managed to break a window at Mollys near the end (on accident of course).

6)    Our night eventually ended after a session at Vespa and dirty old J&Ms. Nothing better than emerging from a pub with the sun coming up, the birds singing and people going to church.

Come late in the evening Sunday, I and my liver had had enough tom-foolery to last me for some time. 

However, little did I know that the following weekend I would be attending the biggest party weekend in New Zealand – the Wellington leg of the International Rugby 7’s tournament…  

(Stay tuned for 7's update in the next edition)