Live gigs still deliver the same thrills

By ALAN PERROTT

Even if you can't remember the last time you were at a live gig, the view from the cheap seats hasn't really changed - stars still strut, bass players worry about looking cool and the roadies need to lose weight.

And although the Big Day Out is pitched at kids who think the Rolling Stones are so "whatever", rock and roll continues to be about funny haircuts, tight pants, playing loud and having a good time.

The only differences you might notice are that some bands sound like bands but don't appear to be playing any instruments and others sound like bands but seem to centre on some guy playing records.

Even if you have no intention of heading to Ericsson, this bluffer's Big Day Out guide provides a few tools for conducting a basic conversation on some of the groups you've never seen.

Metallica: These guys look like Hell's Angels prospects and are survivors from the new metal of the 80s before it became the nu metal in the late 90s. Soundwise, chop up a Black Sabbath album, randomly join it up again so the rhythm leaps about every few bars and then play it twice as fast as recommended. Oh, and look really, really angry while you do it. Ideal soundtrack for panelbeating.

Darkness: Hold the phone, Freddy Mercury lives again, but he's wearing tighter pants and has added a few Slade members to Queen. This is metal before it got all new: Maiden, Priest and Purple, they're all here and they're having a damn fine time. Ideal to get drunk and stupid to.

Basement Jaxx: Industrial-strength funk Prince would be proud to own, drenched in samples which straddle time, continents and genre. As with other producer combos like the Chemical Brothers and Groove Armada, they employ an army of vocalists to add a human touch to their nob twiddling. Made to measure for leaping about.

The Strokes: Dig out an old Television album and you've pretty much got it. This is a return to the heroin-chic of 70s New York punk. Think pasty young men in old t-shirts who know they can't sing like Sinatra or play like Hendrix and don't care. Ideal for oh-so-meaningful, late night conversation.

The Flaming Lips: Began as the quintessential 90s college band, mates having a laugh with hair dye and musical in-jokes, but have somehow morphed into nu Pink Floyd as produced by Brian Wilson. Their vocals are their trademark, either climbing to a strained Mick Jagger falsetto or grooving into a blend of Donovan, Cat Stevens and, oddly, Gilbert O'Sullivan. Excellent for laidback, sunny afternoons.

David Holmes: If you are standing by the water cooler as your workmates discuss this adventuresome DJ/ producer, simply cross your arms, furrow your brow and in an authoritative voice say "I think he's just sooooo cinematic". Then walk off before anyone can answer. If someone catches on, try saying he's a bit like Fatboy Slim, but with a better record collection to get his samples from. Great for driving to Thames.

Lostprophets: Sadly, nu metal has spread to Wales, which means big guitars which get bigger in the chorus, then even bigger in the bridge. Forget Tom Jones, they more than tip their hat to old not-so-nu metal faves Faith No More, but without their eccentricity. Ideal for spotty teenagers who've just discovered the joys that volume can bring.

The Dandy Warhols: A one-band 80s glam revival and even if you don't know them you probably do. Single Bohemian Like You has been used in a Vodafone ad on the telly. Anyway, think breathy vocals over tracks that could have felt at home on Bowie's Scary Monsters or sundry T-Rex albums. A couple of Duranies helped out on the latest album to provide that extra touch of glamour. Probably ideal for the ladies before a night out.

Pigging out

The 45,000-odd music festival punters heading to Ericsson Stadium today can expect a big pig out.

There's sufficient variety in a huge stockpile of tucker to cover food tastes ranging from traditional chips and hotdogs to Middle Eastern cuisine.

The food and drink mountain will include 10,000 pottles of chips, 4500 hot dogs, 9000 iceblocks and icecreams, 18,000 bottles of water, 20,000 assorted softdrinks, 300kg of butter-chicken and rice, 3000 sausages, 1000 chicken burgers and about 65,000 cups of beer.

Anyone who tires of the 250 performers presenting more than 60 acts in almost as many genres can slip away to the tent city of henna tattooists, body piercers, clothes sellers and hair braiders.

Another alternative will be the belly-rattling distractions of the Moto-X zone, super loop and Easter Show rides.

* nzherald.co.nz will feature updates throughout the day from the Big Day Out beginning at 12pm on Friday.