Wheeling out the memories

The last show I went to at the Christchurch Town Hall was Old Crow Medicine Show, an American folk/country band famous for co-writing the song Wagon Wheel. The band took to the stage and the singer addressed the crowd.

‘‘We met an interesting bunch of fans from Rangiora at dinner.’’

Cue: the fans from Rangiora going crazy. ‘‘Play Wagon Wheel,’’ someone in the group shouted.

The band started playing. The first song finished. ‘‘Play Wagon Wheel.’’

And so on after each song until the singer spoke to the shouter. I can’t remember his exact words, but the spirit of it was: ‘‘We’re going to play Wagon Wheel. But it’ll be at the end. When you hear Wagon Wheel you’ll know the show’s almost over. Until then, enjoy the show.’’

Since then Wagon Wheel has only increased in popularity, and must be the most requested pub song in New Zealand. In my opinion, it’s the new The Gambler.

While Old Crow Medicine Show was the last gig I saw at the venue, it wasn’t the first. I’d grown up there.

I sang there in the school choir as a kid. I got dragged along to heckle Piggy Muldoon as a very young child. I sang along to Rolf Harris when he was more of a family-friendly entertainer and less of a convicted sex offender.

I had the pleasure of hearing Tony Bennett turn off the house PA system and sing unplugged to demonstrate the magnificent acoustics. I saw Brian Wilson perform Smile in its entirety.

I missed the legendary Tool Aenima gig that defined the look and feel of so many of my peers in the years that followed. Dammit.

But that’s just my story. I know plenty of Cantabrians have their own history with the building, as special and unique as mine. Now the refurbished Town Hall will again be alive with the sound of music, reopening this weekend with Christchurch darlings Shapeshifter and Handsome Marlon Williams.

It’s come in over budget. Who knows exactly how much? What amazes me is how the corporates whose job it is to review budgets continue to be out by tens of million of dollars, yet manage to line up at the next trough to condescendingly tell us how much the next megaproject is expected to cost.

But I’m not here to grizzle about cost overruns. I don’t care. In a rebuild that’s felt more like a marketing drive for construction than an actual construction project, I’m glad money has been burned on something tangible. I don’t care about cost overruns because this is personal for me. In a city that’s done nothing but change, I hang on to small parts of my personal history.

Forget the Cathedral. It was only ever accessible to a particular strata of society.

Not the Town Hall, with its magnificent brutalist architecture. Even bogans got to go there. So I look forward to the gigs not yet imagined. I look forward to a time, years away, when people can see that Christchurch had a history before the earthquakes.

But that’s just my story. What do you remember? What do you reckon was the best gig that came through this special space?

Back to Old Crow Medicine Show...

‘‘Play Wagon Wheel,’’ they shouted throughout the gig. Until the triumphant moment when the band kicked into it: ‘‘Rock me mama like a wagon wheel/ rock me mama any way you feel/ hey hey mama rock me…’’

As the song faded and the applause smattered out, a lone voice: ‘‘Play Wagon Wheel again.’’

Christchurch, sometimes you makes me so proud. And other times? Well…