KEY POINTS:
It was a gig that showcased two very different personalities in New Zealand rock: the Datsuns, the introverted but technically boisterous boys, and Shihad, the outspoken but crowd-pleasing men.
This was their second joint gig on a summer tour that will take them from Mangawhai to Wellington. And while most probably wished they were taking it in on a beach, both bands did their best to transport us there, performing with a vigour that would work off three Christmas dinners.
The result was a bit like the Auckland weather at this time of year - flashes of brilliant sunshine, a couple of damp spots and some downright stormy squalls.
New Datsuns drummer Ben Cole didn't just keep up with the band's frantic pace - he often accelerated it. MF From Hell started fast and ended faster as the band thrashed their hair to a maelstrom of breakneck riffs, virtuosic solos and Led Zep-era rock'n'roll.
Their skill was mostly a thrill, such as on old favourite, Sittin' Pretty, and Outta Sight/Outta Mind's Blacken My Thumb. But sometimes their watertight musicianship threatened to outstrip the raw nature of the music, and it felt we were being played at, rather than to.
After fixing a technical problem, the Datsuns seemed to relax and enjoy themselves, and so did the crowd. New songs System Overload and Stuck Here for Days showed they're still capable of producing the jittery rock racket of old while allowing Dolf de Borst to flex his vocal muscles, and Christian Livingstone to alter the textures with slide guitar.
There was also some respite on Harmonic Generator, which they allowed to settle into a groove before self-destructing. The highlight was the exhilarating dynamics of closer Fink For the Man. That took the audience on a journey rather than bombarding with rock theatrics.
Shihad were just as much about the theatrics, even if theirs seemed destined for an arena twice the size of the St James. Looking more cleancut than ever, they relied mostly on the rousing material from The General Electric, which rooted much of their set in the summer of '99. They are loveable for their sheer enthusiasm, even if bass player Karl Kippenberger overdoes the cheesy smiles and frontman Jon Toogood makes goat signs as if they're going out of fashion. And they know how to push buttons to get a crowd engaged.
The band were at their most visceral on the gruntier, metal tracks, such as All the Young Fascists and My Mind's Sedate, songs that are easy to get physically involved in on the floor.
Elsewhere, the sense of majesty felt contrived rather than earned. It was a shame that Pacifier, easily one of their best songs, came so early in the set.
Shihad also aired new material, and judging by Beautiful Machine, with its chugging 80s groove and catchy chorus, plus another new track with its foundations in pop-reggae, the next album will be the antithesis to last year's Love is the New Hate; they might have to change their name back to Pacifier.
It wasn't until the encore they played Bitter from Killjoy, followed by a sweet - by their standards, anyway - new song. And bittersweet was the taste left in the mouth by a set that felt forcefully uplifting.
