Irish music had always been synonymous with "good times" for Ashton Road, and when the idea of forming an Irish band sprung up from the mire of endless summer jobs a couple years ago, there was an initial enthusiasm that has always stayed with them like the ghost of a dog's saliva stain on your favourite trousers.
Once the idea was hatched, the obstacles before them were actually pretty few - they had the fervor, all they had to do was work out how to play some of those instruments…

Jim had played the fiddle and pipes antenatally, but to master the mandolin he was forced to go back even further. On a couch in a Shirley front yard with his personal trainer Jameson, and passing boy-racers as rhythm, Jim's mandolin vigil was shared by two wailers and some Classic Dry - but by 5am he had it sussed and the world was his BBQed oyster.
Needless to say, rhythm and Kate were synonymous and both contained the letter t, which only a fool could have ascribed to coincidence. Drum kits and side drumming had always been the best of friends, and the tin whistle was little more than a hollow metal chicken drumstick, ready to drum out a sweet marinated melody with sesame seed coating.
For Todd, however, things had always been a bit different - Phat bass was not so much an instrument as a weapon of survival in the highlands of Kaiapoi. And where's there's phat, there's fire, or at least an Element - white hot and seared forever into Todd's synapses like a mince pie left too long in the warmer.
And when you see Courtenay play, you can see that this guy is having a good time. And isn't really sure what exactly is going on. But while not carrying the memories of a long career as a professional musician (or any other heavy stuff if he can help it), it's certainly true to say that Courtenay definitely knows how to clean his guitar.

From there it was only a matter of time until Ashton Road's initial manic episode had passed, and they were ready to settle down to some serious gigs and appreciative crowds at fine institution of Sullivan's Saloon. With the occasional away game and private function to keep them guessing, yellow singlets and minivans quickly became part of the scene at the Ashburton Domain, where they would occasionally play late night gigs, under the pseudonym "Dennis O'Reilly's Domain Band" to keep that famous Christmas Eve crowd from travelling out to the Flash, running amok and trashing the venue.

And there you have Ashton Road up to the minute. Naturally, from there recording studios would be the next step, jet lag and problems with roadies and crazed fans would become our only concerns, and we could play Dirty Old Town until the crowds were finally silenced and only Todd was left screaming for more…