Be very afraid: The notorious Spooky Men's Chorale are about to make their long awaited first assault on New Zealand shores.
Christchurch born Spookmeister, Stephen Taberner, in a daring gambit hatched in a secret hideaway in the Blue Mountains of New South Wales, has finally resolved to unleash his vast, rumbling, stupid, steam powered black behemoth on the land of his birth.
Armed with no more than their voices and a sly collection of hats, the Spooky Men's Chorale have become famous for seemingly accidentally rendering audiences both moist eyed with mute appreciation and haplessly gurgling with merriment, as they ask the really important questions, such as: what is the appropriate way to deal with a mastodon carcass? and, does my bum look big in this?
Their iconoclastic combination of pin-drop ballads, Georgian table songs and vaudevillian trash has already made them darlings of the Australian festival circuit and deliriously successful four time conquerers of the UK. (And you might have also heard them singing on that beer ad where the guy punches the pig).
This sprawling itinerary of concerts and workshops offers a splendid opportunity to snort with laughter whilst simultaneously noting the pitch-perfect bottomless black harmonies, recoiling at the sartorial effrontery and appreciating the sly commentary on the tragic and hilarious contradictions of the modern man.
An evening with the Spooky men is liable to leave small children spellbound, women tearstained, and real estate salesmen vaguely aware that somewhere, there'a a whole world they forgot to experience.