Martin Phillipps and the Chills, Newmatics, Blam Blam Blam at True Colours, St James

By REBECCA BARRY

The first hint came within half an hour when the bar sold out of red wine.

The second, when the St James began to fill with sweet plumes of smoke - cigar smoke, that is. And by the time the first act had taken to the stage, it was clear to these 23-year-old ears that most of the crowd had come of age listening to this stuff. Almost.

When the spotlight hit Martin Phillipps and his polka-dot shirt, a Grey Lynn type with matching locks and a raised Steinlager shouted, "C'mon, ya mongrel!"

Showing off his relatively young new line-up which was lacking only its keyboard player (whose wife was in hospital producing the next generation), Phillipps took up the challenge with energetic new song Liberty or Love.

From there, the band got harder and faster as they raced through technically thrilling renditions of Come Home and Pink Frost, minus the organ.

"It's been 20 years and I still love playing these songs," Phillipps proclaimed before launching into a Neil Diamond number and another haunting new track, Falling Off Your Throne, perhaps an ode to his turbulent past few years.

Finally, drenched in sweat, the band rocked out to I Love My Leather Jacket, before suitably attired members of the crowd, from Rena Owen to Hugh Sundae, headed to the bar.

The Newmatics declared a new dress code when they arrived on stage in suited splendour, enigmatic drummer Benny Staples the most eye-catching in a blood-red shirt and skinny punk tie. The ska band who provided a musical backdrop to the cultural climate of the 1981 Springbok tour went full-throttle into a rollicking dance set, saxes blazing. But things became noodlier and less riot-squad as it drifted past the 40-minute mark.

Still, for a sound that blasted out of the early 80s with youthful arrogance, the Newmatics were easy to like, as engaging as their brassy grandchildren, Salmonella Dub.

After a 20-minute interval, reformed three-piece Blam Blam Blam enticed the drinkers back inside with the Dr Who theme and lyrical classic Like My Job, living up to their name as the most voluminous of the acts. While still an intriguing Split Enz-Midnight Oil hybrid, their sound was the most dated, a point that drummer-vocalist Don McGlashan made when he joked they'd be getting the fast ones out of the way before they got too tired.

Nevertheless, enhanced by old photographs of the trio flashed on the backdrop, the Blams played the tightest, most polished and musically twisted set of the night.

Perhaps the younger crowd members will be going to their next gig - if they feel the urge for another reunion.