This was not the Fat Freddy’s Drop show anyone was expecting.

When the rain comes down tell me where will you be?

They huddled under awnings in damp jackets and squelchy shoes. They danced in ponchos and puddles. Some sat in deck chairs, pretending things were different and everything was awesome. At Go Media Stadium on Sunday evening, I saw several groups of brave souls sitting on picnic blankets in the grass, trying to have a good time even though the water dripping down their faces very much said otherwise.

When organisers booked Fat Freddy’s Drop to play Lilyworld on January 26, it’s unlikely anyone considered the conditions might be dark clouds, chilly winds and constant drizzle. When punters bought tickets to what was meant to be a fun summer show from a band now into its third decade of delivering sunny vibes, they probably imagined they’d be wearing shorts and singlets, not boots and jackets.

Fans take in the Fat Freddy’s show at Lilyworld. Photo: Chris Schulz.

All day in Tāmaki Makaurau, the rain fell. All evening too. So, at the venue inspired by the haphazard but legendary Big Day Out stage, bean bags sat unused under a tree, while pools of water rendered an outdoor ping pong table unusable. The owners of several deserted ice cream trucks appeared to be cursing their life choices. Some sought shelter inside the covered Lilyworld bar, watching last night’s Auckland FC game unfold.

The only person loving life seemed to be the woman selling ponchos outside the venue for $10 a pop. Walking past her and into the venue around 7pm, I had a thought I might be about to see something I’ve never seen before. What’s it like when our most prominent summer band, one that has graced greenfields and wineries almost every summer for 26 years now, is forced to perform an outdoor show in the rain?

I didn’t get to find out. It may have rained for every single act on the undercard, but at 9.15pm, as the seven members of Fat Freddy’s Drop arrived on stage, the rain stopped. Like, seriously, it just disappeared. To celebrate, a man in front of me was hoisted onto his friend’s shoulders, removed his shirt and began swinging it around. Another breezed up to me, patted me on the bum, and invited me to the front of the stage with him. I politely declined.

Fat Freddy’s Drop at Lilyworld. Photo: Chris Schulz.

Taking the rain’s place was exactly what was expected when this show was booked: large slabs of fat dub plates, chunky horn riffs, Dallas Tamaira’s soothing tones, and extended jams and remixes of new songs and familiar ones. (They did not take the opportunity to play ‘Rain,’ but perhaps that may have just invited it back.)

So, ‘Blackbird,’ played early, morphed from its familiar sonics into a spacey freak out, while ‘Slo Mo,’ the title track of their new album, was boosted by the inclusion of Louis Baker on guitar. Some moments, like an extended dance-jam powered by a harmonica, reminded of the band’s early years, their regular stints playing long, meandering and sometimes drug-addled jams around various Wellington venues.

By now, Fat Freddy’s are a well-oiled machine. They’ve just returned from playing dozens of shows through Europe, and they know how to pepper their shows with peaks and troughs. Yes, they played ‘Wandering Eye’. They used ‘Hope’ – their breakthrough single from 2003 – as an encore that became the night’s biggest singalong. The main set ended with horn player Joe Lindsay, the band’s most energetic performer who had by then stripped to just a pair of sparkly hot pants and a singlet, heading into the crowd and blasting his tuba in amongst it all.

Had it been raining, that might not have happened. Much of the night might not have happened. But, after a wash out of a day that threatened to spoil Auckland Anniversary weekend, Fat Freddy’s Drop made the rain stop for two hours. It’s impossible to be mad about that. Any chance I can get a refund on my poncho?

Fat Freddy’s Drop play Nelson on February 1 and 2, Electric Avenue on February 22, and Havelock North on March 1; tickets are available here.

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