Johnny Stevens of Highly Suspect performs at Auckland's Spark Arena on December 1. Photo / Leonie Moreland / Red Raven
Johnny Stevens of Highly Suspect performs at Auckland's Spark Arena on December 1. Photo / Leonie Moreland / Red Raven
Review by Amberleigh Jack
Hitting the stage garbed in baggy white pants and a hangover, Highly Suspect frontman Johnny Stevens appeared to rock them both with ease at Auckland’s Spark Arena on Sunday.
And he seemed to have come for a party. It was during the opener, Bath Salts, that he demanded a circle pit from those who’d braved the packed space in front of the stage (the set of which, by the way, featured a couch. It may not scream “rock assault”, but was no doubt handy for the singer, who got “f***ed up in your town” the night before).
This, though, was a “f***ing rock show”. So a circle he got (for those who didn’t grow up creating empty spaces in mosh pits while running around the edge and into each other, a circle pit is… well, that).
“We’re in a rock ‘n’ roll church right now.”
The chaos (and fun from afar) of the pit was fleeting, but hands – including one attached to a brave forearm in a green cast – remained raised, and heads bounced in unison going into the decade-old song Claudeland.
Bred in Cape Cod, Massachusetts, High Suspect kicked off their final New Zealand show with fervour, led by a frontman with swagger, a penchant for skipping across the stage and bluesy, perfectly suited rock vocals that couldn’t be faulted with regard to fronting an arena stage.
Johnny Stevens woos the crowd with his guitar and vocals during Sunday night's concert. Photo / Leonie Moreland
What Highly Suspect did prove on Sunday night was less memorable or enjoyable moments in a gig are often forgiven if you sandwich them between crowd favourites, moments of magic and the kind of brutal and excessively loud energy that gets a crowd riled up.
Elsewhere, some extended musical interludes dragged and seemed to sap the crowd’s initial delirium, mellowing them from a collection of heads bouncing as one to a group more static and quiet than expected. The security – at least near our seats – seemed a bit more intense than at recent shows, although I didn’t witness the initial crimes of the few we saw being escorted towards the exit.
One highlight came when Stevens demanded Henry McConnell, from Wānaka band Powder Chutes, boost it from the crowd and get on stage for the band’s biggest hit.
Days earlier, he’d mentioned the local band on Instagram. The “lads” had been in the front row at the Christchurch gig on Wednesday and tossed him a merch hat. It got them invited to play the Wellington gig on Friday.
Clearly losing his mind with excitement, McConnell was handed the mic and took the role of lead vocals for Lydia – possibly a risky move from Stevens but performed with, to use McConnell’s own words, a giddy “WHAT THE F***” intensity.
Later, Serotonia got locally adapted lyrics to cheers of recognition, 16 provided a sing-along and Run For Your Death saw the crowd on the floor jumping harder than I’d seen them yet. The opening bars of Wolf received a yelp of appreciation from my seatmate.
But it was the four-song encore that sent these fans right back to that energy level generated by the set’s opener, with synchronised jumping, singing, overhead clapping, cheering and their arms raised in the air like work on a Monday wasn’t a reality.
Little One had them bouncing and arms shot up for Suicide Machine (I’m pleased to say Green Cast survived the set), suggesting New Zealanders still hold a special place in their hearts for this group.
Ryan Meyer of Highly Suspect keeps the band's tempo in check. Photo / Leonie Moreland
It was my first time witnessing the act live, but they’d played Aotearoa almost exactly a year ago, selling out smaller venues and adding dates. A year later, Spark Arena had plenty of empty seats and reduced capacity, but arena fans still turned up. Stevens has a pinned TikTok making light of the US band only being famous in New Zealand. It’s filled with comments assuming they were, in fact, a Kiwi band.
And now, he tells his final crowd of the Aotearoa tour, he wants to return to Queenstown in 2026 to “make happen” an MCID festival (My Crew is Dope – it’s an album name, and the adopted fan phrase).
Fans enthused, the show ended with Pink Lullabye – the energy of the filled stage matching the last-ditch frenzy of those below, and Stevens gave some parting advice: “Don’t let them kill your vibe.”
In that moment, it seemed clear New Zealand still has a hunger for loud, live rock music. It’s hard to complain about that.
