As the smoke of a thousand joints mingled with the haze of cheap booze, the Big Fan venue was plunged into the chaotic embrace of another Auckland trio: Cut Shapez. Through my bleary eyes, I caught a glimpse of a familiar face behind the drum kit, a harbinger of the sonic mayhem to come.
The onslaught began with „piss, shit, cry, snot“ a blistering opener that shattered the thin veneer of sobriety in the room. The crowd, a seething mass of bodies and bad decisions, erupted into a frenzy of cathartic release.
„Dog Cunt,“ „Sober Drive“, „Duck Duck Goose“ — the songs crashed against the audience like waves against a doomed ship, each riff a siren call to abandon reason and dive headfirst into the night. The air was electric with rebellion and reckless abandon.
And then, as if conjured from the depths of a fever dream, came „Trans,“ the final incantation of this unholy ritual. As the last chords faded into the ether, I stumbled out into the neon-lit streets, haunted by the ghostly echoes of Cut Shapez’s sonic assault. Another band down, but the night was far from over…🍻💥🤘
