Cue the thunderous roar of a thousand kettles boiling in unison — Phil Rudd, the human metronome with a criminal record hotter than a New Zealand summer pavlova left in the sun, is BACK, baby! 🥁🔥 After narrowly avoiding a life sentence for threatening to kill someone over a dodgy Spotify playlist, Rudd has traded his ankle monitor for drumsticks and is ready to bring the house DOWN (or at least rattle the windows at Bowl of Brooklands). That’s right, folks — the man, the myth, the legend who once tried to order a hit on his personal assistant because his solo album didn’t trend on iTunes, is now the rhythmic backbone of the Mānuka Phuel Full Metal Orchestra Rock Festival. And yes, he’s still somehow more stable than your last relationship. 💀🎶
So, what exactly is this *Mānuka Phuel Full Metal Orchestra Rock Festival*, you ask? Imagine if *The Phantom of the Opera* got kicked out of the opera house, wandered into a metal concert, and decided to conduct a symphony with a flaming guitar. That’s the vibe. It’s a full-scale outdoor rock festival where violins meet distortion pedals, cellos battle double-bass drums, and the only thing more intense than the pyrotechnics is the collective existential crisis of the audience wondering how they ended up here. 🎻⚡️
Leading this chaotic symphony is *Full Metal Orchestra* — a supergroup so stacked it makes your local cover band look like a primary school recorder ensemble. We’ve got Phil Rudd, the 71-year-old drumming relic who once said his favorite thing about AC/DC was “the part where I’m not in jail,” alongside Jon Toogood (ex-Shihad), a man who can scream so hard he once made a wine glass shatter from three suburbs away. Add in THE COME TOGETHER BAND, Milan Borich (who probably invented rock), Jennie Skulander (the musical equivalent of a precision timepiece), and Seamus Johnson (the guy who definitely knows what a diminished seventh is), and you’ve got a lineup that’s basically the Avengers of Rock — if the Avengers were all slightly deaf and had questionable dietary habits. 🍻
They’ll be tearing through metal anthems from METALLICA, IRON MAIDEN, BLACK SABBATH, AC/DC, TOOL, VAN HALEN, and more — all while an actual orchestra tries not to die of exhaustion. Picture it: “Enter Sandman” played with violins, “Crazy Train” with a French horn section, and “Highway to Hell” conducted by someone in a tuxedo who definitely doesn’t approve of mosh pits. It’s high art meets high gain, and it’s happening in Taranaki — because why should Auckland get all the fun? 🤘
And let’s not forget the supporting acts, because apparently one orchestra and a recovering rockstar wasn’t enough. DEVILSKIN will be there, probably screaming about fire and damnation (or maybe just the state of New Zealand housing prices). BLINDSPOTT is also on the bill, which is perfect because half the audience will be blind from the pyrotechnics by the second song. And for those who need a breather between sonic assaults, there’s a DJ set from Kane Hawkins — because nothing says “metal” like a man with a laptop and a dream. 🎧
David Higgins from Duco Events said the response has been “beyond anything we anticipated.” No kidding, Dave. You’ve basically created Woodstock for people who own noise-canceling headphones and still blame their tinnitus on their cousin’s wedding band. And Alex McDonald from Mānuka Phuel (which, let’s be real, sounds like a fancy bee product you’d rub on your elbows) called it “a night to remember.” Assuming, of course, you survive the auditory trauma and the inevitable rain-induced mudslide that is New Plymouth in March. ☔️
The Bowl of Brooklands — a natural amphitheatre with more history than your nana’s photo album — is the chosen sacrificial altar for this auditory apocalypse. Thanks to the New Plymouth District Council and Venture Taranaki (who clearly have a death wish or a really good insurance policy), this is set to be the biggest, loudest, most gloriously excessive rock event since someone decided it was a good idea to play “Free Bird” at a wedding. Tickets go on sale December 18, and if you’re not there, frankly, you’re just not trying hard enough. 🎟️
Meanwhile, Phil Rudd continues to be the most chaotic good character in rock history. He once said he’d only rejoin AC/DC “for the fans and for Bon.” Buddy, you once tried to have someone whacked over a Spotify algorithm — I think we’ve all earned a little redemption arc. And if you think he’s washed up, remember: the man recorded the drums for “Power Up” while probably on house arrest, and still managed to sound better than your entire Spotify Wrapped. 🏆
So grab your earplugs, your sense of adventure, and maybe a will because this festival sounds like it could induce early-onset hearing loss. But hey — if you’re going to lose your hearing, might as well do it to the sound of an orchestra playing “Ace of Spades” while a man who once threatened to kill someone over a marketing budget beats a drum like his life depends on it. 🎼💥
See you in the pit, you beautiful, deafened heathens. 🤟
Chord F. Discord, the Beethoven of Buffoonery, is a self-taught expert in music who once claimed he could “play the kazoo in four languages.”
Born in Crescendo, Indiana, Chord’s first brush with fame came when he accidentally entered a yodeling contest thinking it was a pie-eating competition—and won both categories.
Chord F. Discord: proving that laughter, much like a poorly tuned ukulele, is truly universal.
