Key Points:

Neil Tennant, Pet Shop boy, smirks: 'Tonight, we will bring to you a night of electronic entertainment."

Yes, that's right people, up there on stage for the first time ever in New Zealand are the Pet Shop Boys - and they're here to entertain us.

And might I say, what an impeccably dressed crowd, daahling.

Tennant doesn't look 52 and his plain, yet distinct, voice is well and truly intact.

While he doesn't move much, he strikes a wicked pose and resides over proceedings like a ringmaster.

Meanwhile, Chris Lowe, the other Pet Shop Boy, who's resplendent in seedy mirror shades, stays glued to his synthesiser and occasionally breaks into a cheeky yet shy grin.

The pair, who formed the Pet Shop Boys in 1981, leave the dancing to an energetic bunch of lads who have numerous costume changes tonight, including glittering gold cowboy get-ups, posh suits with tails, and one of them bobs around in a giant top hat during Always On My Mind.

They do back flips, break dance and leap around, and it has to be said, they're not that good really, but that's the idea.

They're a mix of high camp, staunch bravado, and it's all just a bit of fun, like a school production.

When they pirouette and perform other ballet-like moves while dressed in hoodies, sunnies and caps, it's clear the Pet Shop Boys' tongues are firmly in their cheeks.

It's refreshing that even after more than 25 years as a band they don't take themselves too seriously. They're just having fun and the crowd over three levels of the St James are happy to indulge, too.

The only one who doesn't look like she wants to be here is the back up singer. Great lungs - but pick your lip up, love, because no one likes a sulky soul diva.

The set list is, in Tennant's words, "some old, some new, some in between, and some like this ... " and they launch into I'm With Stupid, a song from last year's album, Fundamental.

Only a few in the crowd whoop to the tracks from this relatively unknown album, but the rest of us make up for our ignorance by rapturous screams for songs like West End Girls (sounding as fresh and moody as the day I first heard it back in 1986) and Opportunities (Let's Make Lots of Money).

One momentary yawn is the acoustic interlude of Home and Dry, from 2002's Release, where Tennant plays guitar. Even he looks like he's itching to end it and he bounds out of his seat with the flamboyant opening of Always On Mind.

Hearing the beautiful "love song" Rent, the rousing Suburbia and even their cover of Where the Streets Have No Name, makes you appreciate how many great songs they've done.

The highlight comes near the end with It's A Sin, a banging club anthem for gay and straight alike.

The late 80s never sounded so good. What have we done to deserve this, indeed?