Review: Cold Chisel scorch in Queenstown

Review: Cold Chisel have brought their acclaimed 50th Anniversary Tour to New Zealand, headlining the Summer Concert Tour with shows in Queenstown, Taupō, and Whitianga.

After wowing audiences across Australia, the ageless pub rockers have only enhanced their reputations as Australasian rock royalty. Mike Thorpe went to Queenstown to see what they’ve got left after 50 years of hard rock.

Rarely, at Gibbston Valley, has the headline act been met with the sort of surge in excitement that erupted when Cold Chisel walked out onstage to an adoring crowd of over 14,000 on Saturday afternoon.

Anticipation had been building since the gates opened, along with sweat levels and an unprecedented queue of traffic on State Highway 6.

The day had been a scorcher under the intense Central Otago sun with temperatures in the high 20s (if not early 30s) and the average age of the crowd much, much higher.

Affectionately dubbed ‘Boomerpalooza’, the Gibbston event attracts a mostly mature audience from all over the South Island.

It has a reputation for running quality events—even with the extreme weather roulette that concertgoers have rolled the dice on since 2011. It’s seen virtually everything but snow in that time—and in 2017 that seemed a distinct possibility.

If you’ve never been to the Gibbston Valley site, it is a vast paddock with a gradual incline that provides perfect tiered seating for thousands of revellers and just as many folding chairs. At the bottom of the property is a large stage that has hosted a myriad of international names of yesteryear—"legacy acts”, I believe they’re called.

The imposing backdrop is provided by the vast Crown Range. A beige, sundrenched landscape that is both a place of great beauty and that relaxes

When Jimmy Barnes takes the stage he stalks the opening bars of “Standing on the Outside” like they owe him money. Dressed in a black shirt, black patent leather boots, and black leather pants (the temperature had dropped to a more manageable 19C by then), the 68-year-old’s intensity demands that the crowd get on their feet. They do. Old, young, GA and Corporate.

If 10/10 is maximum effort, Barnes rates an 11—with facial expressions that most of us reserve for standing on Lego. Even the way he counts himself in is aggressive, bouncing like a boxer looking for an opening... but when the snarl becomes a smile during “Cheap Wine” it’s obvious that Chisel’s frontman (since 1974) is back in his happy place.

His mates by his side and his life’s work on show. By his side through it all is the uber-talented Ian Moss. The 69-year-old lead guitarist and vocalist sends his glittering silver fingernails dancing across the frets during “Breakfast at Sweethearts”. There’s no sign of silver in his hair – and there’s no hint of deterioration in his voice as he takes the mic for “My Baby”.

In their 51st year together, Barnes and Moss have an obvious and enduring chemistry. The thought that this tour could be their last together seems wasteful, not just because of their on-stage partnership but because they both have so much more to give. Barnes’ performance of “Choirgirl” is as soulful now as it was in 1980 and Moss’s cover of “Georgia” (Ray Charles) was utterly spectacular.

Backing them both up – the three female singers (including Mahalia Barnes) whose vocals on “When the War is Over” induced goosebumps.

But the rock soon returned and my watch warned me that I was in a loud noise environment (like I didn’t know that already) as Jimmy Barnes, Ian Moss, Don Walker (keyboard), Phil Small (bass), Charlie Dreyton (drums) and 14,000 sun-soaked followers belted out “Forever Now”.

At 5.15pm Gibbston’s famed weather roulette wheel spun again.

“I think we’re making it rain!” said Barnes, before ripping into “Shipping Steel”, “Nothing I Want” and “Flame Trees”.

The brief shower was over by the time Cold Chisel launched into the anthemic “Khe Sanh” and “Bow River” but the crowd went home drenched in

Earlier, Cromwell High School group Mistep had warmed the crowd up with a setlist of covers. The student band had been hand-picked to open the show by the ‘nice guy of grunge’ - Art Alexakis. Alexakis is the lead singer and founding member of Everclear, who battled heavy traffic to make their slot, arriving on stage 15 minutes late.

Due on at 12.30pm, they arrived at 12.40pm and wasted no time between getting out of the car and on stage.

“Five minutes. I put my ears in, took stuff out of my pockets [and went on stage],” says Alexakis.

The band is celebrating the 30th anniversary of “Sparkle and Fade” (1995), the album that launched them into charts all over the world with hits like “Santa Monica” and “Heroin Girl”.

Alexakis told the Herald he’s proud to have been part of the grunge era.

“That’s like the second golden age of classic rock!” says Alexakis.

The 62-year-old was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis several years ago – but continues to put out high-energy performances. That said, it seemed as though the promoters had erred with the order of the line-up. Bic Runga was a more obvious opener to build momentum.

“We haven’t been the first of anything since like 1994!” Alexakis says with a smile.

Opening with “So Much for the Afterglow”, bassist Freddy Herrera assured the crowd that they’d play “all the hits”.

“Hey! Who remembers the 1990s?” asks Alexakis.

He does. In an era that was teeming with rock legends, Alexakis produced a distinct sound that set him and his group apart from the rest.

“I always thought I was the lame duck. Every singer back then either sounded like Layne Staley (Alice in Chains), Eddie Vedder (Pearl Jam) or... well, no-one sounded like Chris Cornell (Soundgarden), they wish! I just always had my voice,” says Alexakis.

And he still has it. The vocal speed of “Wonderful” might be getting harder but that sound that stood out in ‘95 is just as unmistakeable 30 years later.

Everclear finished with a bang – “Local God” and their biggest single “Santa Monica”.

Bic Runga did what Bic Runga does, flawlessly navigating her way through her catalogue of Kiwi classics. Runga shared her surprise with the crowd that she had seen “Katie”.

“She gave me my first gig when I was 15. She wheeled me out at Cafe Bleu!” announced an excited Runga.

It was a fantastic set – but it would’ve been a better fit at 12.30pm.

The Gibbston weather roulette wheel landed on “twister” at 2.40pm with a sudden and violent gust of wind blowing dozens of hats to new owners and launching a vintage sun umbrella 30 metres towards an unsuspecting family. Nobody was hurt and a short time later the day’s first stretch of cloud cover offered some welcomed respite.

The third notable act of the day was Icehouse, returning to the venue for the first time since 2017. Iva Davies is the consummate frontman with a voice that charts even richer depths as he gets older. His vocals on “Hey Little Girl” showcasing just how good he still is.

That track also featured a show-stopping solo from saxophonist Hugo Lee.

Davies was accompanied by the crowd on “Crazy” before an impassioned performance of “Don’t Believe Anymore”, a song of desperation.

“I find it difficult to perform every night because of what’s associated with it,” Davies told the Herald ahead of the tour.

Icehouse rounded their set out with “We Can Get Together” from their debut album and a song that could easily be the soundtrack to Gibbston Valley - “Great Southern Land”.

The final chapter of the Gibbston Valley venue had some lows, including the brief re-appearance of the MC dubbed “turbo tonsils” who has bellowed inanities at audiences for years, and the odd over-zealous security guard (give the kids their beach ball back!) but this place went out with a bang... and an afternoon of bangers.

28,000 hands clapping in unison as the last tunes out of Gibbston had almost gone.

Where will the South Island leg be next year? Watch this space. The Summer Concert Series shifts to Taupō (Saturday 25th) and Whitianga (26th) this weekend.

Nobody knows for sure if the Whitianga show will be Cold Chisel’s swansong. You’d hate to think so—and you’d hate to miss it, just in case.

This article was first published by the NZ Herald by Mike Thorpe and is republished here with permission.