This Saturday, I’m seeing The Black Keys at the Powerstation. It’s only $55, and there are still tix available. (I am, tangentially, disturbed that I’m using the words ‘only’ and ‘$55′ together in a sentence. I am old and bourgeois.) I haven’t been to the Powerstation for several years, since the Kings Arms became The Smallish Venue Where It All Happens, but back in the 1990s it seemed as though I went there every week, and not only because they never looked twice at my dodgy fake ID. I’m not the only one overcome with nostalgia: there’s even a Powerstation in the 90s Facebook group, with a startling 104-strong membership, and 32 shaggy-haired stripey-teeshirted photos uploaded. How sweet. I wonder if it will seem bigger or smaller to me than it used to? One thing is certain, though: it doesn’t matter what they do to the building facade, because it will always look dated and dodgy.
Ahhh the Powerstation, that brings back memories! I first went there to see Veruca Salt in 1997 (“Dave Grohl’s an asshole!”) when I was up with my parents to check out AIT.
Right after I first moved to Auckland at the start of 1998, I was supposed to go to Lagered! with a friend’s boyfriend’s friend, but he ended up standing me up, so I went by myself. And then there were legendary Shihad O’Week gigs there, not to mention Placebo where my fake ID let me go into the upper area with the older boy I was with… good times.
Errr, also I hope that comment didn’t make me appear to be endorsing Lagered!, cos I’m not. It was hideous music. But going by myself was kind of fun and I’m really proud that I did that at age 17.