Simple Plan at the St James

Hell hath no fury like a screaming teenager. Simple Plan are the Beatles as far as these fans are concerned. They've been queuing up Queen St since dinner time, and although the Canadian pop-punk band are yet to come on, the overworked bouncers at the foot of the stage are already hauling over-excited, light-headed girls out of the throng.

When the five-piece finally arrive, dressed in different manifestations of black and white, they're met with unbridled enthusiasm, the kind that makes you realise how stuffy you've become in the appreciation of your favourite music.

Musically, their name sums them up. Their sound is emotionally charged, formulaic pop-punk, but Simple Plan know how to push all the right buttons.

Their songs have big, obvious singalong choruses, and they play them with a vigour that transcends the boundaries between them and the fans, pogoing around the stage and scissor-leaping with balletic precision on certain chords.

The lyrics are not profound, but their odes to teenage frustration, stifling parents and the tribulations of being young clearly resonate with this sell-out crowd.

They are also loud - so ridiculously, distressingly loud, that when a friend calls, he texts back in horror that his ears are ringing.

This gig is going off. If it had a name it would be "Anarchy, an introduction to".

Songs such as Me Against the World, Worst Day Ever and I'm Just a Kid have the rows of girls in the mezzanine monotonously punching the air; the crowd is surging like a department store sale below. Even the handful of parents in the mezzanine look as though they're enjoying it.

The highlight is Crazy, a great pop song that could have been a massive stadium rock hit in the 80s; when it notches up a key the place is throbbing so hard it feels like it's about to collapse.

They also throw in covers of Snoop Dogg and The Darkness, and mohawked drummer Chuck Comeau goes for a cheeky climb up the side of the stage.

With their irresistible combination of cocky sex appeal and tightly honed power-punk, Simple Plan are a bit like the rock version of a boy band. Instead of undies being hurled on stage, they get marshmallows. When they play their most downtempo song, Untitled, the crowd wave cellphones, not lighters.

Some fans have even brought banners, NZ Idol-style, with marriage proposals and love hearts. When the crowd sings back all the words to Perfect in the encore, the band proclaim this was one of the best gigs of their lives.

Without a doubt, the fans will agree.

Who: Simple Plan
Where and when: St James, Saturday night