Verb Wellington’s Saturday programme unfolded as a full‑day tapestry of literature, conversation. Earlier in the day, audiences moved between The Long Game of Reclamation with Witi Ihimaera Smiler and Puawai Cairns, the hands‑on craft session A Riot of Words led by Sasha Francis, the powerful whakapapa‑centred discussion Carrying the Past Forward featuring Hana Buchanan, Lauren Keenan and Terri Te Tau with Matariki Williams, Dame Silvia Cartwright: That Woman with Anna Fifield, the memoir‑focused panel Seasoned Self, Disclosing Self with Tusiata Avia, Joseph Trinidad and Ingrid Horrocks, Brannavan Gnanalingam’s U.X.O. session, and the haunting archival conversation What the Walls Remember with Doireann Ní Ghríofa, Noelle McCarthy and Claire Mabey. And Jon Toogood.
This was also part of a book tour for Jon, promoting his memoir of his time in Shihad.
Jon Toogood’s memoir Home Again was co‑written with journalist and author Karl Puschmann.
The book grew out of months of long, open conversations between Toogood and Puschmann, with Puschmann shaping those stories into sharp, vivid chapters while keeping Jon’s voice intact. Their collaboration allowed Toogood to dig deeply into childhood memories, the rise of Shihad, grief, faith, and the personal cost of decades on the road — all while maintaining the immediacy and honesty of Jon speaking directly to the reader.
 |
| Photo: Rebecca McMillan |
The stage setup was simple: Jon, a guitar, a couple of chairs, and Bollinger’s steady, measured, curious presence. But the conversation ranged wide.
Toogood spoke about growing up in Wellington, absorbing his parents’ record collection — everything from rock staples to Tom Jones’ It’s Not Unusual, which he joked was one of the first songs that made him realise music could be big, bold, and a bit cheeky.
He recalled early gigs too: Shihad as teenagers supporting punk bands at The Clarendon on Taranaki Street, better known now as Molly Malone’s. Those shows were chaotic, loud, and formative — “the kind of nights where you learn fast or get eaten alive.”
He praised Tom Larkin in particular. Noting that he started out with "'the most perfect drummer'' first up. Also gave many references to Tom's calming elements especially when Jon was spiraling over petty stuff like reviews "I'd find 9 good, one bad. He remind me of the good ones! Focus on that!"
The tone shifted as Jon spoke about the losses that shaped his solo album The Last of the Lonely Gods.
He described the heartbreak of saying goodbye to his mother, Yvonne, over the phone during Covid lockdowns, unable to return from Melbourne. He also spoke about being stuck in Aotearoa for three months while his brother‑in‑law deteriorated rapidly from cancer — unable to get back to his whānau in Australia because of border closures.
These moments, he said, “forced" the songs out of him. Nick suggested that the album felt a bit like a "hug", and indeed It was, Jon agreed - "comforting and cathartic".
Songs stripped back, Jon played several songs solo with just his guitar. That included Lost in My Hometown — about revisiting old haunts in Island Bay (“where I used to steal cars — just joking”). And Run — originally from the Pacifier era, written after the wild ride of The General Electric: “every door opened and we didn’t know how to say ‘no’. I kept taking every opportunity, beacuse it was the first time, I didn't want to miss something, I just kept going and going and going - until I crashed. ”
He explained how songwriting often begins with a tune, but lyrics can take a year or more to settle into place. Hearing these songs stripped back made them feel raw, almost newly minted.
The conversation also touched on Jon’s political interests — the themes running through Old Gods, FVEY, and other Shihad albums. Jon said hes alway been interested in humans - being that he wants the best for people and this was his hay of speaking up for them against the dark forces.
Then came one of the night’s most tender sections: the story of meeting his wife at an Auckland Museum event, Dana, who grew up with an American accent because she was the daughter of a diplomat (She is from Northern Sudan). She didn’t care that he was in a famous rock band — something Jon said was “a relief" and "a revelation.”
He spoke about converting to Islam to marry her, in Khatoum, describing her generosity as something grounded deeply in her faith.
One woman stood up during Q&A to say her first Shihad show was at Meow Nui, actually the band's very last. She came with her son. She'd never thought she'd like "that music". Now she's a convert.
It was one of those Verb days where every venue felt alive — but Toogood’s session was the one people walked out of buzzing, wiping their eyes, or humming a riff.
Of course, he had to finish on the book's title theme - Home Again. A poignant reminder that Jon has already been one of the Capital's favorite sons. It was good to have him back.
No comments:
Post a Comment