At Mikey Havoc’s Push Push reunion show, everyone was old – and that was OK

We are in the middle of an unprecedented nostalgia boom – somehow it makes sense to see Mikey Havoc on stage screaming ‘Freedom!’

They arrived with beards and bald spots. Their faded black tour tees told stories of ancient times: The Cure, Blondie, Shihad. At the bar, they ordered cans of Gisborne Gold and bourbon – lots of bourbon. “I said, ‘Easy on the ice,’” grumped the man next to me. We watched as the bartender stacked six cups with cubes then poured Jim Beam over them. “That’s not, ‘Easy on the ice.’”In the foyer, cigarettes – proper raggedy roll-your-owns – were being smoked. At the door, the man behind me shuffled forward with the help of a walker. On stage, one of the few still sporting a full head of lanky long hair had a question for those who had braved gammy legs, bad backs and the slow, brutal passing of time to be there. “Who here is under 20?” he asked. Just a single hand shot up.

At the Push Push reunion show, everyone was old – and that was OK. You had to be old to understand what was happening. It’s 35 years since ‘Trippin’ spent six weeks at the top of the charts, a song that introduced Aotearoa-bred glam-rock hair metal to a new generation. I remember watching the strobe-heavy video on RTR Countdown for the first time, transfixed. Afterwards, I proudly declared to my parents: “I like metal now.”

Everyone likes metal now, especially the good old stuff. We are in the middle of an unprecedented nostalgia boom, with anyone who ever picked up a guitar in the 90s doing so again. Last year, Lenny Kravitz, Metallica, Tool, The Pixies and Suicidal Tendencies all played across two crazed November weeks. This year, it’s only February, and David Byrne, Nick Cave and Iggy Pop have all paid us a visit.

When Mikey Havoc emerged and bellowed “Hallelujah!” into the microphone, it meant a little more than usual. Push Push’s mid-90s break-up was fraught. Despite occasional live appearances, no one ever thought a new, better-than-it-needed-to-be EP, and a proper tour like this weekend’s four-date trek would happen again. These Rangitoto College kids are all dads. They live in different countries. They are, like everyone else who was in the crowd, properly ancient now.

So if Push Push’s hometown Double Whammy show began a little nervously, you couldn’t blame them. If they were pacing themselves, so were their fans. Small jolts of nostalgia began emerging from ‘Beating Up Bullfrogs’ and ‘Do Ya Love Me?’, songs from the one and only Push Push album A Trillion Shades of Happy. Feisty new songs ‘The Truth’ and the Blind Melon-y ‘Sleep in the Morning’ slotted right in. ‘Song 27’ really set things alight.

No one seemed happier to be there than Havoc, who offers a multi-media brand of nostalgia spanning radio, television and music. In the crowd I spotted several Shortland Street actors, a couple of DJs from the rock-orientated radio station Hauraki, and two members of fellow rock group Elemeno P. Havoc made them all scream, “Freedom!” He made them all hug a stranger. And he kept dishing out kisses, on the tops of his bandmates heads, then into his palm to fling into the crowd.

It was always leading towards one moment of nostalgia nirvana. As soon as the ‘Trippin’ riff began, any tentativeness fell away. A woman leapt up on stage and danced with Havoc. The man in front of me turned, put up his devil horns and poked out his tongue. “Fucking good,” declared another man behind me. Havoc seemed to instantly shed a decade. “Fuck yeah,” he declared, between choruses. He grabbed his own phone and began filming everyone else who was filming him. He couldn’t stop smiling.

The man with the walker had been helped out early. After a brief encore that included a cover of The Chills’ ‘I Love My Leather Jacket,’ everyone else emerged sweaty, smiling and still singing ‘Trippin’ into St Kevin’s Arcade. Watches were glanced at: it was nearing 11pm, past everyone’s bedtimes. At home, I lay on the floor and grabbed an orthopaedic-approved foam roller. Tonight, the nostalgia boom continues apace with Jarvis Cocker’s Pulp, and my lower back feels tight.

Push Push play Helensville’s Kaipara Tavern tonight and Totara Street in Mount Maunganui on Sunday.