Where: Powerstation
When: Last night
At home in England, Paul Weller commands elder statesman status and seasons at the Royal Albert Hall.
Here, on the first visit of a restless 30-year career dating from modpunk trio The Jam and soul-pop duo The Style Council, Weller and band gets three sold-out
nights at the Powerstation. Such are the vagaries of the Britrock hero exchange rate.
On his first night, the taciturn Weller occasionally expresses some worry about what we of his colonial fanbase is familiar with. His last two solo albums, 22 Dreams and Wake Up the Nation, are among the best of his career. But they can't hope compete with side one of 1980's Sound Affects or Long Hot Summer or anything else from Weller's remarkable first decade. That was one which saw him go from gifted angry young man with a sixties fixation in the days of punk to a member of the original Live Aid chorus.
And despite making early deliveries of Jam tunes Pretty Green and Eton Rifles - their sneery, shouty spindly anthemic qualities intact and greeted with excitement by us middle aged suckers for post-punk revivalism - it takes a while for things to really connect.
A sound mix which buries Weller's voice for the early stages doesn't help and at times it seems the Modfather is in one of his moods. Especially with his guitar tech who is having a bad day at the tuning office.
But somewhere along the way, it gels. It helps when Weller downs his guitar for time on the keyboards too.
A sprightly Shout to the Top! from the Council days helps dig things out from the workmanlike beginnings. So does the similarly soul-shaped Broken Stones and the gorgeous ballad You Do Something To Me from his mid 90s solo album Stanley Road.
In between the combo of Pieces of a Dream and Trees - off the latest Nation - delivers a madly psychedelic centrepiece which proves Weller's recent ambitious studio adventures translate into something confounding live.
Into the closing stages and encores and Jam A-sides like Start!, a singalong That's Entertainment and A Town Called Malice vie neatly with songs of more recent decades. And by then, Paul Weller's first New Zealand has shaken off an ordinary start to become something worth the wait.
