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Image: Tina Tiller
Image: Tina Tiller

Summer 2022January 2, 2023

Jonah Lomu Rugby is still the greatest rugby game of all time

Image: Tina Tiller
Image: Tina Tiller

Summer read: What made Jonah Lomu Rugby on the PS1 so good – and why has no other rugby game come close to recapturing the magic in the 25 years since it was released?

First published March 31, 2022.

Demented moles. Ballydown Park. Laksanasompong. This collection of words might sound like nonsense to anyone under the age of 30, but to a generation of gamers and rugby fans, every syllable will make perfect, beautiful sense. 

This is the language of Jonah Lomu Rugby for PlayStation 1, which first hit New Zealand consoles 25 years ago and remains the beginning, middle and end of the conversation about the best representation of footy on a gaming console, with a timeless quality and cult status seldom seen among sports video games. It’s such a national treasure there’s even a copy in Te Papa.

But as we celebrate the game’s milestone birthday, we also need to ask the question: why, in the quarter century since its release, has no other rugby game managed to recapture Jonah Lomu Rugby’s magic?

When the game arrived back in 1997, the All Blacks had just won an historic series against the Springboks with a side considered to be one of the greatest ever. Undoubtedly the biggest name in that squad was Jonah Lomu, who had bulldozed his way to becoming rugby’s first truly global star. Along with his endorsement deals with Reebok and McDonald’s, it seemed natural for him to have his own video game, developed in the UK by Rage Software and published by Codemasters, whose previous hits included Pete Sampras Tennis and Brian Lara Cricket. 

All Blacks winger Jeff Wilson was 24 years old at the time of Jonah Lomu Rugby’s release, and remembers seeing himself portrayed in a PlayStation game as being “pretty funny”.

“I was lightning quick in the game, but any time anyone got near me I bloody dropped the ball. I had to laugh, but I didn’t take offence to it because I’m pretty sure I was the fastest player. No one could move as fast as me.”

It paid off on tour for Wilson and his teammates as Lomu would always have a PlayStation on hand. “We gave it a crack, some of the boys were really into it but we all gave it a go. There hadn’t really been a game that had captured rugby at all. It was the big fella’s game, but all of a sudden players from all over the world were getting put on a stage like that. Gaming was a part of the professional era, we all got used to it pretty quick.”

Part of Jonah Lomu Rugby’s charm was its licensing workarounds – the game’s main stadiums were Ballydown Park (Ballymore) and Tallyfield (Twickenham). It also included a host of lesser rugby nations like Hong Kong, Germany and Thailand, whose first five Laksanasompong became something of a cult hero among the game’s fans. But Lomu was of course the game’s most potent weapon, with the ultimate challenge being to take on an entire team made up of 15 clones of the legendary winger.

Jonah Lomu Rugby’s playability ensured the game remained popular at the start of the new millennium, when a young Brad Weber would regularly play with his brother and mates. “Honestly, Jonah Lomu Rugby was my favourite game,” the All Blacks halfback remembers. “I had the package deal that came with Shane Warne Cricket 99 as well. We’d spend hours upon hours on it.

“I was already a pretty keen footy player but this took it to another level. My favourites were the special teams, the Rage All Stars with the winger Mather. He was tiny but fast, so I could see a bit of me in him.”

Weber says he still remembers all the button combinations for fending and offloading, but the part of the game that sticks in his memory the most is the legendary commentary provided by the late, great Bill McLaren and current World Rugby head Bill Beaumont (the Lomu-sized irony being that the governing body has long been criticised for not investing more heavily in gaming, with the issue forming part of the last challenge to his leadership). McLaren’s references to halfbacks “digging like demented moles” and forwards “marching up the field like a bunch of Sherman tanks” have even spawned a tribute Twitter account

“‘That’ll put him in ward four’ … ‘I hope not Bill, that’s the maternity ward!’” Weber recites with a laugh. “As a kid I had no idea what that meant, but I knew it was funny somehow. Even now, when we’re out on the golf course and someone skies a tee shot, we all shout ‘that’s a huge Garryowen!’”

Most fans agree the reason Jonah Lomu Rugby stood the test of time is that it made a complex sport easy to understand and play. It embodied what the vast majority of rugby fans want to see in the game in real life: there are no substitutions, most penalties and other hold-ups are stripped away, mastery of offloading is critical and kicking in general play is almost always pointless. The old adage of rugby being 14 players trying to make space for the 15th to score is the key to success.

Which is why it’s baffling that follow-up attempts at rugby games have taken the opposite approach and overcomplicated the gameplay. Only EA Sports’ Rugby 08 has received anywhere near the sort of love shown to Jonah Lomu Rugby, but despite being made a full decade later, it still hasn’t aged as well. 

If there’s a game studio that can finally catch lightning in a bottle again, it’s probably right here in Aotearoa, according to the NZ Game Developers Association chairperson Chelsea Rapp. “There’s no question that New Zealand has the talent and the skill necessary to build a high quality rugby game.” she says. “Our studios have shown that they’re leaders in the global games industry. In fact, earlier this month, our largest game studio PikPok announced that it’s launching two games on Netflix.”

Rapp says the local game industry is growing on average 38 percent every year, and there are now more than 60 studios and over 1000 people who work in game development full time. “Currently the only limit to this growth has been the ability for studios to access highly skilled talent and early-stage funding. New Zealand is unmatched in our passion for the sport, so it’s safe to say that if NZ Rugby chose to make a game, several studios here would be keen to be a part of it in one way or another.”

When asked about the possibility of a remake, NZ Rugby’s chief commercial officer Richard Thomas said they “have not explored this at this time but we are aware of its popularity for a certain generation of gaming enthusiasts and rugby fans.”

“We believe an ongoing and likely increased investment in marketing our brands to fans globally is a critical part of rugby’s future, under any scenario. While we haven’t had specific discussion as to how gaming may relate to that, we do have a very strong view, shared with Silver Lake, that digital experiences which connect with our fans in new ways are a key part of the future.”

Given the amount of cash about to start flowing into NZ Rugby from Silver Lake, it seems like a direction worth exploring. After all, the generation captivated by Lomu’s deeds both on the field and on the PlayStation are grown up now, ready to transfer that passion to their kids. Jeff Wilson, now a commentator with Sky Sport, says it’s a no-brainer.

“It should be a focus for NZ Rugby to grow its own version of NBA2K, because that’s how the next generation consumes their information. My son can tell me more about the NBA than I can tell him, because he plays 2K and it connects the present to the past. He knows about players who played in the 70s and 80s because it’s all on 2K, all their characteristics and stats. 

“There hasn’t been another rugby game like Jonah Lomu Rugby. If they (NZ Rugby) truly want to connect with a generation of gamers, they need to create another game that is world class. It’s something that rugby definitely needs.”

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Anna Rawhiti-Connell
— Senior writer
Keep going!
Malay
James Ho, known as the superproducer Malay, helps artists craft raw, intimate songs. (Photo: Supplied / Treatment: Archi Banal)

Summer 2022January 1, 2023

Meet the secretive super producer behind Lorde and Six60’s success

Malay
James Ho, known as the superproducer Malay, helps artists craft raw, intimate songs. (Photo: Supplied / Treatment: Archi Banal)

Summer read: American music maker Malay has never spoken about his behind-the-scenes work with two major Aotearoa artists – until now.

First published October 8, 2022.

“Hang on a second … I’ll just flip this around,” says James Ho. The American super-producer’s Zoom screen suddenly spins to show off his California lounge. Autumn sun streams through his blinds, landing on a collection of off-white leather couches, pot plants and a large glass coffee table. “We had a microphone set up right here in the middle,” he says, pointing at the ceiling. “We did all the vocals in the living room … They all stood in a circle. We did the whole album like that.”

Ho, more commonly known by his production moniker Malay, could be talking about any of the superstar artists he’s helped craft supremely intimate records. Musicians like John Legend, Frank Ocean and Zayn Malik seek him out when they want to record their most vulnerable, personal songs, and Ho’s production credits are full of stripped-back fan favourites. Lorde knows this: Ho helped craft her second album Melodrama, and he also worked on her hushed third record, Solar Power. 

Lorde
Malay helped Lorde make her last two records, and she was instrumental in introducing the American producer to Six60.

But the living room set-up Ho’s describing for The Spinoff was for Six60, Dunedin’s reggae-roots gigantosaurs who have scaled peaks no other local artists have managed to climb. He’d first heard of the group while spending time in Auckland collaborating with Lorde back in 2018 and kept seeing their name around town. “It was unavoidable to not see Six60 on billboards, Six60 on buses,” says Ho. “I asked [Lorde], ‘Do you know these guys? What is this?’ I thought it was a boy band, just because of the name.”

He discovered he was on a Six60 collaboration wishlist, and soon several members of the group arrived in his Los Angeles studio as part of a match-making songwriting session. Singer Matiu Walters couldn’t believe his luck and tried not to let his nerves get the better of him. “The first time we met I was intimidated,” he admits. “Sometimes I pinched myself  … like, why is he working with us?” He calms down by telling himself: “Maybe we’ve got something that is worth him believing in.”

They combo clicked and after writing the song ‘The Greatest’ together, Six60 invited Ho to help them finish work on their third self-titled record, the one that sent them soaring into the stratosphere. Soon, songs like ‘Please Don’t Go’ and ‘The Greatest’ – all co-written and produced by Ho – would ring around Western Springs Stadium, then Eden Park, as Six60 became the first band to headline both venues. “That became ‘the people’s album'” says Ho, who quickly became firm friends with the band.

For Castle St, Six60’s fourth record and first not to be self-titled, the band found themselves sitting around Ho’s Los Angeles home, swimming in his pool, drinking his collection of pinot noir, feasting on his home-cooked banquets, and recording songs on studio equipment balanced on boxes and paint tins around the lounge. The results, say Walters, are some of the band’s best songs yet. “You can’t make [an album like] this on a laptop in your bedroom,” he says. “It takes relationships, it takes people, it takes history … this is the most important album I’ve ever made.”

Malay
James Ho, aka Malay, at work in his studio. (Photo: Supplied)

How Six60 ended up recording an album in Ho’s lounge is a classic Covid story. In mid-2021, Six60 travelled to America to perform at two festivals, but thanks to Aotearoa’s strict August lockdown, they found themselves in the same situation as many overseas New Zealanders: stranded, trying to score a ticket from a tense MIQ lottery system and a two-week mandatory hotel quarantine. “We were bouncing between AirBnBs, trying to make it work, trying to survive,” says Walters. His wife and four-month-old daughter Boh had joined him on tour. “We were kind of stuck.”

Ho was busy converting his upstairs guest house into his dream home studio when he heard about Six60’s situation. Despite the construction mess, he quickly invited them to move in. There, they set up bits and pieces of studio equipment and began crafting music together. “I don’t like big flash studios,” says Walters, who admits it wasn’t how Six60 had planned on making their new album, but the laidback style suited them. “His generosity is unbelievable … It made the process so much more effortless.”

Malay
James Ho with Matiu Walters’ daughter Boh in his makeshift home studio in California. Photo: Supplied

Ho knew they wanted songs that could continue to echo around the stadiums Six60 were used to playing in back home. So he told them to start daily jam sessions, and he began recording the results. “Each day we would create a whole bed of music that would end up being what you hear on the album,” says Ho, who invited Canadian songwriter Simon Wilcox to help in songwriting sessions. Mistakes weren’t just allowed, they were encouraged. “The last album we spent a lot of time trying to iron out creases,” says Walters. “This time we’re shining a light on imperfections.”

The stripped-back results, which fans heard for the first time yesterday, are a capsule of this time. Yes, fourth album Castle St is a mellow affair that’s covered in Ho’s fingerprints, with light touches and a prominent less-means-more attitude. But it’s full of sudden outbursts, joyous melodies and chantable choruses, all of which were recorded together in Ho’s lounge. ‘Good Wine’ is a song named after the bottles of pinot noir that fuelled these sessions. After The Spinoff’s interview with Malay, Six60’s record label sends footage of the group swaying under a microphone in his lounge, clutching wine glasses while recording backing vocals together.

It’s that kind of magic, of a group performing together in a room, that Ho says he’s always looking for when he hits record. He says his job is to help capture it, but it’s impossible to manufacture. “I’m not trying to boss them around and tell them what to do. I’m listening and seeing what feels the most exciting, energy-wise,” he says. He describes his job as, “How can we take the best of each guy and make it still make sense?” Spending so much time as friends with Six60 has helped. “I know their personalities and those personalities come through their instruments.”

Despite all their success at home and across Australia, Six60 are yet to make that giant leap into America like Lorde has done. Could Castle St be the album that does it? “It’s such a strange time,” says Ho, cautious of making predictions. “Some of the biggest artists release music and it doesn’t connect.” If it happens, he believes Six60 have the songs, and the experience, to catapult quickly. “They have the ability to take it over the top within a second because they’re so ready. They’re basically undiscovered on this side but when people hear it and see it, they become fans.”

Ho remains one of the group’s biggest fans and spends much of our chat, his first interview talking about his work with Aotearoa acts, happily talking Six60 up. “Matiu has an insane voice, he’s one of my favourite singers I’ve ever worked with,” says the man who produced Frank Ocean’s breakthrough album, Channel Orange. He also points out drummer Eli Paewai’s work on this record. “It’s like Radiohead-level,” he says. “He’s an incredible drummer.”

Now, because of his work with Lorde and Six60, Ho’s career is intimately tied to two of the New Zealand’s biggest artists. As a result, he travels to Aotearoa regularly, and it’s not always just for work. As well as visiting several times to make music with Lorde, Ho’s holidayed here, visited Queenstown and stayed at Walters’ family bach in Mangawhai where he cooked one of his infamous banquets. He even lists Depot among his favourite restaurants. And he’ll be back here soon, early next year, to attend Six60 bandmate Marlon Gerbes’ wedding on Waiheke Island.

Their relationship looks set to run the distance. “He helped us tap into a primal feeling,” says Walters. He talks to The Spinoff on a break from rehearsals, where they’re carefully working out how to slot their new album in among their old songs. After their warts-and-all movie, which exposed some of the group’s darkest moments, Walters says Ho has helped spark new life into the band. “Malay’s got it, he believes in us, it’s such an awesome thing when you’re in a studio setting like that,” he says. “We’re a match made in heaven.”

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Alice Neville
— Deputy editor