SCHOOL OF MEAT "ENROL TODAY" RELEASE PARTY: the liva queens, tried for treason, school of meat @ underground arts, wellington; 28 april

Lenny's band is playing, and before hand they are having their traditional soup club, which they have every couple of weeks at a different person's house each time. Rorn isn't up to it. She's quite shattered. But I really want to go. So I spend the afternoon reassuring her and setting up the van with curtains on the windows and stuff so that she feels secure.

And then I head to soup club. There is soup, and it's delicious. A whole bunch of people are there, some I don't even know. We are all excited about the show. We decide that it will be a great idea to use a marker pen to give me a big tattoo on my back, in the style of all the straight edge kids up in Auckland. We chose the slogan "Hardcore is my God", and three Xs, with flames around them. Lenny does a great job, because she's seen the tattoos on one of her journeys to Auckland. She uses steelwool to correct the mistakes she makes: perfectionist, but luckily it doesn't hurt.

I look in the mirror at the "tattoo" and it makes me feel so tough. I can see why all these angry young men get these tattoos. I run into the lounge to show everyone. Anna and some other girls I don't know have a look of horror on their faces as I peel off my shirt to reveal a hairy chest. They're still not impressed as I show them the back.

It seems like several hours later that we all get on a bus and head to town. There's about 20 of us, all looking punk as. We sit down the back. There are teenage Metalheads down there. We laugh at and with them, as they smoke cigerettes on the bus. Girls kiss each other and claim to be lesbians, which drives the teenage boys wild.

We get off the bus and walk up Cuba Street to Underground Arts. It's now in a large warehouse off Abel Smith Street. I remember seeing the warehouse available for lease and wishing I could have got it: it seems they had the same idea, and the tattoo studio to pay for it. As we're at the corner of Cuba and Abel Smith we pass some large rednecks who've just come out of the Southern Cross Tavern. One of them says "Hey sexy, do you want a fuck?" I'm not sure if he was talking to the glue-sniffing prostitutes across the road or to Ramelia, but Ramelia is sure it's her. I quickly yell out "Yes!" This makes all this guys mates laugh at him, and his comeback is "I wasn't talking to you, you queer". I was hoping for a fight, but still, it was pretty funny.

I pay $7 at the door to get a free School of Meat CD: it was gonna be $5 anyway, so it's worth it, and when I see it's in a purple case and has a picture of a cow on it, I know Rorn won't be mad at my extravagance. We sit in Underground Arts for a while, quite a while really. I think it must be at least an hour. My friend Kieran arrives. I haven't seen him in ages, so I have a yarn to him. And then my sister is on stage, with her flatmate Lisa (also in The Carnys) and flatmate Blair (of the defunct Deaf Terrorists). It's The Liva Queens. It's their first gig besides playing at the party the night before, but they're really tight. The bass guitar is feeding back, screaming between every song; my sister is yelling: it's amazing to me that her voice suits this so well. It all sounds fantastic, really groovey simple Punk, and we're all having a boogie.

Next up is Tried For Treason. There is more of a crowd now; people are dancing. Mainly just this large guy in a Snapcase singlet. So I go and dance with him. I've started to realise that unlike Auckland, there are not going to be lots of sweaty tattooed males whipping their shirts off and rubbing up against each other in a homoerotic Punk Rock ritual dance. It's up to me. Sam is filming us with a video camera, and Snapcase is a little drunk and really going for it, and we're amused. And so I rip off my shirt, revealing my great tattoos, and I'm moshing beside him, waving my fist in the air as he is, and we're all just having so much fun, and the music is really Metal: Metalcore, with a ripped-off Metallica intro for one of their songs. It was fantastic.

When they finish Snapcase is talking to me. He reads my back: "Hardcore is my God? What do you mean by that? Are you from West Auckland?" This is great! Straight away he's got it. But I say "No, I'm from West Hamilton. Hamilton Hardcore represent!!!" It was great. His girlfriend comes up to me, and she grabs my chest, and she's saying "Oh wow! Your breasts are bigger than mine! Oh wow! It's great that you've got your shirt off!" and she's fondling me, and then she says "Can I bite your nipple?" I'm finding this all a little crazy, certainly amusing, and so I consent. She bites hard, and it's all I can do not to make a sound. When she finally finishes, she's left a bite-mark, and it hurts. But she's thanking me, and I thank her.

I walk over to my sister, and she's grinning. "Hey, I saw that girl grabbing your breasts eh?" I tell her how she even bit me. Lenny's laughing. "Look at you, standing around with your shirt off! Who would have thought?" The girl comes over to the two of us and grabs onto both of us, pulls us close. "Do you want to hear some poetry?" We agree, and she recites to us some wonderful sounding poetry, quite a feat I feel, because she was a bit drunk. Lenny really likes it, and so do I. Lenny tells her a special saying: "Blair Jones, Blair Jones, say it twice for good luck". It's a fantastic saying, I couldn't get it out of my head for weeks.

I go outside for a while, but then head back in as School of Meat go onstage. There's quite a large crowd by now, but I manage to make my way down the front, and take my shirt off again. I'm dancing like mad, screaming "Hardcore!" and "Straightedge!" in the gaps, and making an X above my head with my arms. It's fantastic! School of Meat are Grind/Hardcore, and it's great, although I find it's almost harder to dance to than slower, more groovey stuff. Maybe I'm just getting tired.

When it's over I go to their kitchen to try to get a drink of water. They're large skinheads, and they have a fridge full of beer. They ask me if I want a drink, and I say I'd like some water. They tell me to help myself from the tap, but if their leather jackets go missing they'll fucking kill me. I don't want their leather or their wrath, so I leave their jackets on the bench and go outside. Everyone is sitting on the sidewalk drinking, and so I don't even go back inside for the last band. Kieran is offering me his alcohol, but I'm not interested. I don't bother to go back inside for the last band. I'm just waiting for it to be time to catch the bus back home. I amuse myself by trying to ride Little Dan's skateboard. It's been years since I've been on one. I can see why. It's pretty crazy.

Eventually I manage to find the time, and it's time to go, so I catch the 01:00 bus back to Island Bay. Right to the end. Rorn is there, nice and safe in the van. We try to get some sleep.

Daemon @ The Southern Cross Tavern, Wellington; 27 April

There's a party going on at Ross' house in Newtown, a place our friend Karma used to live. I load everyone into the van and drive them all to Newtown. It's still reasonably early. Rorn wants some alcohol, so I walk to the bottle store. I decide just to go to the supermarket instead because it's closer. So I'm walking down the road, and then I see this poster, and it says that Daemon are playing in town tonight. These guys are old friends of mine, and I'm really excited at this amazing coincidence!

I get Rorn a bottle of wine and then head back to the party, and tell Rorn. She's not so excited, but my sister is insisting that I go, and so I do. My sister walks me down to the bus stop, and I get on a bus and head to town. It doesn't go quite where I'm hoping it will go, so I jump off at the Basin Reserve and walk the rest of the way. I've somehow consumed an energy drink, and the caffiene is starting to rip into me: I'm really not supposed to have that evil shit. I stop at a petrol station and use their toilets: they don't know how much they've saved my night.

I get to the bar, The Southern Cross Tavern, on Abel Smith Street. It's going to be in the front bar: a new little one called The Cross Bar. I look in the windows, and nothing seems to be happening. I talk to a guy at the door: he doesn't know where the band are. I'm trying to get in free, but in the end I give the guy $2, and he's stoked, because every little bit helps, and there's no way they're making profit off this gig. The stamp is a pattern of leaves, and the guy is looking at it and wondering what it is. I tell him it's leaves, and confuse him by saying "It's like autumn on my arm". I leave, look through all the other bars, scoping the Friday night crowd for Metalheads. No luck.

The guy at the door has told me that it doesn't start until 23:00. It's only about 21:30. I walk down Cuba Street. I get to Cuba Mall. It's full of people, as I expect. Swirling like a flashback. Nothing's changed since the days me and my brother used to hang out here: goths, drunks, and lots of assorted random people all loud, colourful, active...

I get to a bus stop, and check out the timetable. I was hoping that there would be a late bus, because I remembered that there used to be late buses on Friday and Saturday nights. But the bus timetable says "Late buses: 1am, 2am, 3am: Saturday & Sunday nights". So I'm thinking that the latest bus I can get is 23:50. If the show starts on time, I'll get to see most of it, so I'm not too worried.

As I'm walking back up Cuba Mall, wearing my pink hoody of course, a guy comes up and starts talking to me in a European accent: "Hey, how's it going?" - "Alright" - "What are you up to tonight?" - "Um, I'm just going to see a band. What are you up to?" - "I'm just looking for some friends". I start to get the feeling that this guy is trying to pick me up. "Where are you from?" - "I'm Dutch, but I live here in Miramar" - "OK, that's great". I don't really have anything to say to this guy, and he soon gives up on me.

I get back to the venue, and Dead BC sees me through the window; points and says loud enough for me to hear him "Look, it's Slow!" I get inside and they're all really excited to see me. It's been over a year. I explain the amazing coincidence that has led me to be here tonight. "That's a nice hoody you have on. Is it red?" - "No, you can't tell in this light, but it's hot pink actually".

I talk to band leader, the singer/guitarist Xanataph about stuff. It seems they have a new EP out, that they've somehow managed to score a video grant. That things in Nelson have mellowed out, that they've all mellowed out. Xanataph tells me how he's been meditating, how he's been feeling more energy, that he's realised that it's better to put out positive energy if you want to get it back. This is quite amazing coming from a Satanic Black Metaller. I have also been finding new energies lately, and I'm amazed again at the coincidence. I'm getting an energy from just having this conversation with him. Really buzzing.

It must be about 23:30 when they finally start to play. Someone is going around with a hat trying to get the old drunks [this is a down-market bar filled with slot-machines and old drunks] to make a donation to see Daemon. This leads to complaining and heckling. I get to hear the first song, and then they start to play a new song off the EP, the one they've got a video grant for. It's sounding great. But then I notice that my friend Brunka has arrived. She is over the other side of the room. I'm only 99% sure it's her, so I'm staring at her. She gets up and leaves. I'm now sure it's her. I get up and follow her out. "Brunka! Brunka!" She turns around, and it takes her a while to recognise me. She's excited to see me and gives me a hug.

She's going down Cuba Street to check out another gig at Indigo. I walk down with her. I have to go anyway. I get there. Tell her that we're gonna be living down here, so I'll call her sometime. And that's the end of that. I get to the bus stop, it turns up, and I'm on my way back to Newtown, wondering how the party has turned out.

The next day I realise that the buses did go on Friday and Saturday nights: it's just that technically that is Saturday and Sunday morning. I can't believe my stupidity at missing Daemon because I couldn't read a bus timetable properly, but it was probably all for the best, because everyone was counting on me to get home from the party.

k5k, DJ D>Form @ k5k's house

On Saturday 14th there is a party at k5k's. It is the going away party for MC slypussy. We arrive there at about 20:30. No one is there except for k5k and Honor. We sit with them in the lounge. About 21:30 one of MC slypussy's little sister's arrives with some friends of hers and some bottles of wine. They leave again, unimpressed with what they see.

People finally arrive about 22:00: Prose and his girlfriend; Unique; DJ D>FORM: all the kids from out west. DJ D>FORM sets up his turntables on the bench in the kitchen. Unique is talking about how he has a meeting with Sony in a few weeks: he's talking like he's about to blow up. He's wearing very expensive clothes and gold jewellery. He talks about buds, says he only smokes "gold pearl" or something. We've never met anyone who makes such claims. In this country buds are buds, and they're all top quality.

DJ D>FORM starts playing. He's a Hip-Hop DJ. It's kind of loud. He plays «CREAM» by Wu-Tang; the rest I didn't recognise. MC slypussy turns up with Herr Denton: they've been out on a mission. Now they're both E'd up. Most of the people end up outside on the veranda. I stay in the lounge, watching Prose and Unique clowning around with their DJ buddy; watching the bored look on Prose's girlfriend's face.

Herr Denton comes in and talks to me. k5k starts playing his set. Prose's girlfriend looks madly unimpressed. It's enough to make everyone go outside. It's loud and noisey. Rorn gets me to get them to turn it down a bit. People are floating around. We talk to Herr Denton a lot. We decide to leave. It's only midnight. But she's too tired. MC slypussy and Herr Denton find out that we're leaving and try to beg us to stay: they like our company. But it can't happen, and we head home, leaving everyone else to party while we sleep.