Phantom Blog

Live at San Fran, 8pm 12^th September.

I rolled up to San Fran on an arctic Wellington Thursday night in a state of extreme ignorance with regards to the work of Troy Kingi. I’d begun to hear his name a lot and I was vaguely aware that he had become quite a major figure in the New Zealand music scene but I’d never actually got my shit together and given it a proper listen. Tonight, I’d fix that.

Leatherman and the Mojave Green marks the roll out of the eighth album on Kingi’s ludicrously prolific project of 10 albums, in 10 different genres, in 10 years. That is a level of productivity and accomplishment which is, quite frankly, slightly depressing to think about. He’s stated that the album is inspired by his all time personal favourite, the 2002 Queens of the Stone Age classic Songs for the Deaf. Kingi is speaking my language with that kind of talk. Songs for the Deaf were, for me, one of those works of art which hit a person in their impressionable high school years and permanently alter their taste thereafter. It was an introduction to a harder, darker, bluesy type of rock with more ambition and integrity than anything I’d heard before.

Troy Kingi takes the stage draped in the type of poncho get-up Clint Eastwood would approve of, with a buzzy Lawerence of Arabia style hat. He fits the part of a man emerging from the desert, having recorded this album at the iconic Rancho de la Luna studio in Joshua Tree, California. He oozes a larger than life charisma which seems almost too effortlessly cool to be from this slightly awkward country. 

This is the part where any self respecting gig reviewer is supposed to give a run down of the set-list on the night with a poetic little description of each tune but, in all honesty, I have no idea what any of the song titles were. As unprofessional as that is, I actually think it really lends itself to hearing an album as a whole when you have no singles you’re impatiently waiting for. Throughout the evening, you can really feel the desert vibe Kingi has brought home with him from that mad land, the US of A. Leatherman posses a dark yet fun, noir-ish quality to it. The band achieve what all band’s aim for; to be so tight and well-drilled that they’re able to relax and have fun while casually killing it. 

Troy Kingi and his band make a great case for the power and appeal of live music. My music taste has mellowed over the years as I’ve enthusiastically leaned into impending middle age and I think if I heard this harder type of rock as I scrolled through radio stations in the car, I’d probably keep scrolling but it goes bloody hard in the flesh. You can’t help but get a little hypnotised as the band draws the crowd in. 

Kingi eggs the crowd on to start a mosh-pit for the final song of his performance. I’m too repressed to join in but there’s something heart warming about watching people losing it in a mosh. It’s a reckless abandonment in the name of fun. I have the feeling this may be the first of many Troy Kingi gigs I attend and I might even buy the album to finally find out what any of those songs are called.

Fashion is a funny thing—current, retro, high-end, street, boho, athleisure. It’s all ultimately subjective.

One thing is for certain: we all have that one piece of something special that evokes memories of times gone by, with many stories woven into it, and wish we could buy it again to make sure it never wears out.

Stepping into Hills Hats, you can’t help but feel this is where that exact kind of magic is made.

Founded in 1875 (yes, you read that right), Hills is approaching 150 years old. That’s an age worth pondering.

Not to get too heavy, but in that time, the world has seen the fall of the Berlin Wall, the Chernobyl disaster, two world wars, the space race, and—let’s not forget—the creation of the home computer.

In modern marketing, words like “heritage” and “authenticity” get thrown around a lot. But in truth, they’re rare to come by. Hills Hats, however, is the living embodiment of those words.

As you walk through the doors, you’re greeted by the smells, sights, and sounds of raw materials and fabrics—a vibrancy more akin to an exotic fabric market than to the streets of Petone.

A warmth envelops you as familiar yet unknown faces welcome you, eager to share stories and lessons from the world of hats.

The factory, aptly named “The Hatmosphere,” is warm and inviting while also being a pleasant assault on the senses. Trust us, you’ve never seen this many hats. The space invites curiosity and wonder, and every corridor or corner seems to lead to another equally stimulating and creative environment, filled with artifacts most have never seen.

The machinery and equipment alone are something to behold. Steam rises from pipes used for shaping hats, metal hat molds, felt brushes, and countless other hat-making tools are spread across the floors. Sewing machines hum as hands work diligently, producing a clear volume of craft. Natural smiles abound, but there’s also an unmistakable sense of pride and hard work in the air.

At the heart of the space is a sitting room, inviting customers to relax while others try on an array of hats. Comfortable, luxurious leather sofas form a cozy storytelling nook, a space that, we’re told, has also hosted many musicians over the years.

Hills Hats is celebrated for its traditional methods and high standards of craftsmanship. Every hat is handmade with meticulous attention to detail using premium materials. Sustainability is also a priority, with environmentally friendly materials and processes used wherever possible.

Their offerings are vast, from timeless styles like Panama hats and fedoras to more contemporary designs and bespoke creations. They also cater to more corporate niches, producing hats for uniforms, promotions, and events. With a strong reputation in New Zealand—and indeed, around the world—you’ve probably seen their work on the big screen.

Hats may often be overlooked, but they hold a unique significance. Sitting atop the head like a crown, they’re the perfect finishing touch. Over time, they mold to your shape and age with you.

At Phantom Billstickers, we live by the motto “flora for the concrete jungle,” ensuring vibrancy and character on the streets of New Zealand. Similarly, Hills Hats provides the crowning jewel for any outfit, on any occasion.

In a world where fashion trends come and go, Hills Hats stands as a timeless institution, blending heritage with craftsmanship and innovation. Whether you’re looking for a hat that tells a story, serves as a symbol of craftsmanship, or simply adds the finishing touch to your style, Hills has something for everyone. Every visit is not just a purchase—it’s an experience that connects the past with the present, proving that quality, authenticity, and a bit of magic never go out of style.

To take a journey to the Hatmosphere, jump here.

Prima Facie tells the story of Tessa (Mel Dodge), a top defence lawyer who specialises in tearing holes in the claims of alleged victims of sexual assault. To her, law is a sport, and like all top athletes, she lives for the next game.The opponent is irrelevant, only beating them. Tessa is a captivating character; highly intelligent and a little cocky but self aware enough to be funny about it.

The inescapable intimacy of a one-person play is the perfect canvas for Prima Facie.

As Tessa monologues to the audience, she confides in us, she banters with us, she makes us laugh and draws us in. Somehow we are on Tessa’s side, vicariously enjoying the ride of her success. When she explains the correct method of interrogating a victim on the witness stand until they’re tangled in a web they can’t get out of, we can’t help but admire the craft. We really shouldn’t like her but we do.

One night, Tessa is brutally assaulted by someone close to her and everything she had taken for granted in life suddenly lies in tatters. The status afforded to her by a prestigious job, her position in society as a winner and her core sense of self are all suddenly feel deeply compromised. In the court case which follows, all the weapons of rhetoric, language and implication which Tessa deployed so skilfully for a living are turned in on her. Now she is the one trying to scramble her way out of a web the lawyer for the accused is spinning around her. 

The bond established between the protagonist and the audience in the first half of the story serves to heighten the emotional impact of the harrowing turn of events. A “He Said, She Said” case is the most brutal dissection of character imaginable. For a jury of their peers, two people will compete to be viewed as the sole honest and respectable member of society. 

Prima Facie examines the ingrained unconscious prejudices that form our collective perceptions, projections and biases. It also illuminates how the legal system and the power structures which govern society are built to defend the status quo from those who would disrupt it.

The plot and themes of Prima Facie are undeniably heavy but the play never risks overwhelming the audience with an excess of misery. On the contrary, it provokes a lot of thought about urgent societal issues while entertaining and engaging from beginning to end with a very tight control of pace and tone. 

There’s a polish to the whole production born of experience, this being the 2^nd season of the play after an initial New Zealand run last year. The minimal set, lighting and score serve the story well without ever distracting. The long standing ovation at the conclusion was richly deserved.

*Little whinge on the side: When you go to the theatre, go to the toilet before hand and turn your fucking phone off. Jesus. 

Of late, it’s been nothing but giant briefs through the door for our Custom Shop team. For us, Custom Shop means from scratch, to mind bending, one of a kind, showstoppers. It means blending paper, paste, paint, and now giant ginger hands. 

The backdrop to this campaign, a stunning mural that introduces the mythical ‘Ginger Giant’ to the city. 

This isn’t just any mural—it’s a dynamic piece of art that blends seamlessly with the eclectic vibe of K’ Road while standing out as a testament to the creative energy of our team and the mysticism of the Ginger Giant himself. We wanted to create something that wasn’t just a backdrop but an integral part of the community’s visual landscape.

But the mural is just the beginning.

To ensure the ‘Ginger Giant’ made its mark, we also rolled out a large-scale street poster campaign. These posters are strategically placed to catch the eye of anyone passing through this cultural hub, making Mac’s new drink impossible to miss. It’s all about spreading the message far and wide, inviting everyone to experience what Mac’s Brewery has to offer.

By blending art, culture, and advertising, we create experiences that resonate with both the brand and the community. 

We’re stoked with this project, and we can’t wait to see how the Ginger Giant will inspire and delight everyone who encounters it on K’ Road.

Cheers to creativity, collaboration, and, of course, the legendary Ginger Giant!

With National Poetry Day fast approaching, we always find ourselves reminiscing about the important history of poetry in New Zealand.

With that sentiment in mind, we look back to our founders blog from 2011, an excerpt from Diary of a Billsticker.

‘We drove into Philly early in the morning of Memorial Day. There were not a lot of people around and it was very peaceful and quiet. This always sets the tone for a good poster run. Later in the day, it would get to be 95 degrees (Fahrenheit), but at just after 8 AM it was around 70 degrees – so it was relatively cool work and it was unhurried. The people you run into on a poster run are usually very friendly and they well understand what you are doing. It is just normal stuff to them. In fact, it is a craven-hearted individual who does not understand another person putting up a poster.

We put up posters by the following poets: Janet Frame, Chris Knox, Sandra Bell, Sam Hunt, Tusiata Avia (all from New Zealand) and Robert Creeley (USA). About 80 or 90 A3 posters were placed in the South Philly area and this took less than an hour. You put two up on each wooden lamp-post with a kind of semi-industrial stapler, you stop and photograph them and then you move on.

South Philly is a very cool and funky area. The local clubs and gigs use posters (of course) and the best I have seen lately are for the Mexican music acts. Their posters are ultra colourful and really do the work they are intended to do: they tell the local Mexican population where the gigs are. They breathe life and vitality into the streets.

Anyway, I was asked to explain how to do a poster run. So here it is:

1. You stand in front of a lamp-post with a heavy industrial stapler and a couple of poetry posters until you decide to do something about it. You always put the posters on the poles at an angle where they will be seen by the maximum number of people. You think of the way people walk past the poles.

2. You look right and then left for signs of the proximity of Homeland Security or anyone else who might think you could be a terrorist. You make sure your hair is short and that you have no beard. You must wear no unusual clothes. You decide that you are the same religion as the person who might question you and you also decide to be subservient. You will go into any difficult encounters by agreeing with the encounterer. As Hunter S. Thompson once said, “To get along, go along.” This will be your mantra. You will apologise to anyone if you have to and then you will ‘move along.’ The key is to hold onto your stapler.

3. You hold the poster up against the lamp-post and then you whack it with the stapler with all your might. You think of this as being something like getting rid of the dirty water off your chest. You may grimace. But, if you are putting up a poem poster by any of the six poets who have been mentioned, then you will instantly feel much better. By God, there’s some satisfaction to be had by doing something enormously simple over and over. There’s power in that.

4. After about four or five poles you will begin to loosen up and really get into the rhythm of it all. At that point, you may be able to look back and see people reading the posters and then you know you have done something good. That’s important. It’s just a small step, but it is a step forward. When you really get into the swing of it, you will not want to stop and you are always disappointed when you must. But tomorrow is another day.

5. After about thirty or forty poles (or notice boards in cafes etc), you realise you have made a difference and brought something to the lives of others. That’s the key to it all. But you must keep doing it’

Keep the Faith,

Jim Wilson