Or at least a mirror to who we are and have been. He’s our Everyman and our sage minstrel.

Everyone in the audience at his Napier show (4 Nov at the Muni) saw some of themselves reflected in him, and it was a diverse crowd, different ages and stages, different backgrounds. Different pockets sang along to different songs as tracks resonate. A woman dared to call out: “Play something we know”, and those around her bristle and groan. Most in the room knew his back catalogue and they know Dave. He’s our mate. He understands us.

Dave Dobbyn is one of a handful of musicians who have written the soundtrack to NZ.

His music speaks of our wild places, our rivers and coastlines, our farms and our country roads, of road trips and big skies, horizons and stars, of our landscapes and the people who live within them. He says, “All the good songs come like a dream” and there is a dream-like quality to the stories he tells, a nostalgia, for a time that may not have ever existed.

He says things we need to hear. We need to believe we are still this little country that punches above its weight, that’s relevant on a global stage while still being 100% Pure New Zealand. Much of it may be myth, but we still love hearing it.

Dave has echoed the sentiment of New Zealand since the early 1980s and his oeuvre includes hot topics of the time in terms of politics and protest, our treatment of asylum seekers and destruction of the environment. He’s challenged us to nurture our social conscience and find hope in imagining an idealistic world where global issues are resolved. He’s always found ways to brighten up pretty grim subjects with a good ol’ singalong. He’s everyone’s favourite Uncle in that way.

Although it’s nice to throw on a frock and head out on the town, the one thing that’s discordant with this gig is that we’ve put this man-of-the-people up on a theatre stage. And we’re stuck here in sensible, polite rows. It’s a bit him vs us when it should be ‘we’re all in this together’.

We’d love him even more at the pub, not that he drinks, now that he’s found a higher power. And of course he’s been knighted so elevating him is probably appropriate. The guy is a legend, despite being common man, he’s done the hard yards and he deserves his place up there with his full band and Gavin in the truckers cap tuning his guitars. And when he rounds out his encore with Slice of Heaven, and the whole crowd knows every word, it cements his place in our hearts.

This gig is more about identity and whanaungatanga than it is about entertainment. It’s about that joy that comes from belonging and connection. We might be a bunch of strangers, but we all know Dave, and best of all he knows us.