Live at San Fran, 8pm 12th 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.