A force of charisma and uniquely gifted musician
Aaron Arana Tokona
musician b October 28, 1975 d June 20, 2020
‘‘See the life force from the sun Can you hear your heartbeat?’’
Aaron Tokona, who has died suddenly of a heart attack, was a star on any stage, stylish and effortlessly cool.
He was an insightful musical genius and composer, and a national treasure who could make his guitar ‘‘talk’’, but he was humble too.
Born in Tauranga, descended from Nga¯ i Te Rangi and Nga¯ ti Maniapoto, he got his first guitar aged 8 and would get up at 5am to practise before school.
He went from busking in Wellington with his dad, to jamming with friends in Bongmaster (the start of Fat Freddy’s Drop), to Weta, to Cairo Knife Fight, to Ahoribuzz, and Fly My Pretties.
He also performed on albums by Fat Freddy’s Drop, Marlon Williams, The Eastern and ‘‘some rich guy’’.
Tokona was a big-hearted, beautiful man with a flair for the flamboyant and dramatic, and a proud and devoted dad to daughter Asha. His laugh was frequent, enormous and contagious.
Wild, relentless and unapologetically himself, his catchphrases ‘‘mick’’, ‘‘wha cup’’, ‘‘mean’’ and ‘‘buzz’’ entered the lexicon of anyone who knew him.
He and his siblings were raised by his dad in the Lower Hutt suburb of Naenae. He was especially close to his sister, Mabel, and as a teen developed a strong bond with his foster sister, Wanda.
His musical touchstones were Jimi Hendrix, Steve Vai and Eddie Van Halen. As a teenager he was nicknamed the ‘‘Steve Vai of Naenae’’.
His musical gifts were discovered early on, and he was expertly assisted personally and musically by his ‘‘other mum’’, a classically-trained teacher at Taita Intermediate.
He won a musicianship award at Smokefreerockquest with his high school band, Pride and Joy.
Asked to perform at the Taita College prizegiving, he flipped from the quietly beautiful John Williams classical piece he was playing and started shredding a Jimi Hendrix song.
His dad enrolled him at Naenae College the following year.
Clinton den Heyer met him when they were both 16. ‘‘The first time I saw Aaron was on stage competing in a high school rock band competition.
‘‘From the moment I first saw Aaron put on his black fender Stratocaster and turn around my life changed. I was totally consumed by his all-encompassing force of charisma. All I wanted to do was to make music with him.
‘‘We met backstage that night, I shifted to Wellington, we became best friends, we formed Weta.’’
When the four-piece rock band was launched in 1995, Tokona was lead vocalist and guitarist. It signed to Warner four years later. With its debut platinum album Geographica, and boasting hits Calling On and Got the Ju, during the late 1990s the band toured alongside Shihad and HLAH, and opened for Soundgarden, Foo Fighters and Everclear, among others.
In the early days the pair wrote songs in a basement.
After a period in Melbourne, Weta disbanded in 2001.
This week Shihad frontman Jon Toogood recalled playing in an AC/DC covers band at a friend’s birthday: ‘‘Aaron Tokona was the other guitar player in the band and after the first rehearsal spent trying to keep up with him I felt like an absolute novice. I have never played with anyone so naturally talented on that instrument, or any instrument for that matter . . .
‘‘The world has lost an incredible talent and one of the most beautiful humans around.’’
Shihad’s hit Pacifier was written about Tokona’s early struggles with mental health and his ongoing struggle with selfmedicating.
‘‘The lyrics of Pacifier have the simplest, strongest and ultimately truthful summation of our feelings for him as a peer,’’ Tom Larkin told Stuff.
‘‘It was a lyric that held his gifts and talents in awe and we wished him to see in himself what we did.
‘‘And when you’re out there
No, they can’t catch you
Precious star, you are the best at what you are’’
‘‘Aaron affected us deeply as musicians and as people. He was a friend and family member for all of us and stands as the one of the most singularly talented peers we have had the pleasure to work with,’’ he said.
‘‘We meant it when we said ‘You are the best at what you are’. We miss him deeply and his influence on us is immeasurable.’’
After his bipolar diagnosis, Tokona moved to Christchurch with his wife and daughter. It wasn’t long before he set up a music studio in Lyttelton, connecting with Marlon Williams, Aldous Harding, Delaney Davidson, Ben Brown, Shane Bolingford and members of The Eastern along the way.
In 2008, Weta re-formed briefly and performed at Southern Amp festival in Christchurch but Aaron was focused on the duo project, Cairo Knife Fight, he shared with friend Nick Gaffaney. It took them to stages around the world. They opened for Gomez and Them Crooked Vultures.
Tokona adored close friend Anika Moa and she featured on his Ahoribuzz songs, as did other notable New Zealand artists including Ladi6, MC Tali, Lauren Mitchell, Hollie Smith, Anna Coddington, Laughton Kora and many more. Fur Patrol’s Julia Deans was also special to him as they shared many shows together, and so too were the Tikidub and Shapeshifter families.
Moa and his other musical sisters sang Calling On at his funeral on Thursday in a poignant tribute.
Some didn’t get the name but Ahoribuzz was the funk/rock/soul vehicle for Tokona to share the spotlight with his gifted yet shy bass-playing relative Hori Pirere. It was simply meant as ‘‘Hori’s buzz’’.
With Tokona as ringmaster, Ahoribuzz crafted incredible songs – Turnaround, Glitter in the Gutter, Sugar, Providence – and in 2015 released an EP, Into the Sunshine. The band was a popular addition at summer festivals.
After making a new life in Titirangi, with partner Karma Russell and her family, he had recently started making new music with a long-time lyrical collaborator, Lyttelton-based poet Ben Brown.
When he finished Into the Sunshine, Aaron took Ben and me for ‘‘a hoon’’ around Christchurch’s Port Hills with it playing on repeat on the stereo.
Aaron’s driving was not for the fainthearted. It felt glorious and wild and free.
‘‘Riding with you, bro, like having a taniwha by the tail,’’ Ben wrote this week and his words hit me right in the chest.
I guess the show must go on, but it will never be the same. – Vicki Anderson