I went to Paekākāriki for the first time this Easter, and I wasn’t prepared for how satanic it felt. Driftwood fences, an abandoned (for the holidays) train station, dark green hills looming over us. Anywhere south of Auckland, it seems, has this evermore warp to the weft of time- are we when or then? And the further down you go the more uncertain it gets.

Ben Woods’ Hovering At Home follows this same course, sinister chords slip in and out, drawing in tension and teasing its release, pulling you along to somewhere unknowable and resolving in an ominous squall, like a dissonant orchestra collectively losing its mind.

And yet, no matter how lyrically reserved he is, heart is always present in Ben Woods’ music, if a little fuzzed up around the edges. It still sounds like a straight line between Woods’ intention and this transmission; to join him on the plane he walks between memory and dreams, clarity and distortion, looking out and looking in- that classic kiwi gothic indoor-outdoor flow.

Ben Woods Dispeller is out July 15th on Melted Ice Cream.

Review by Charlotte Billing.

If there was one band I trust to rehash a kiwi anthem as Iconic as Dominion Road by the Mutton Birds, it’s DARTZ. The band have combined forces with Sports Team to put together a hot video for their new single ‘Dominion road (Dumpling House)’, and it is a very tasty take indeed. 

The video follows the boys (joined by some other Tamaki Cuties) on a culinary journey, hitting the plethora of hotspots along Dominion road. It contains a few of my favourite things, Dumplings, Slow-motion eating shots, Rollyz, and of course the infamous Gogo’s Music Café.

Gogo’s is arguably the best place to eat in Auckland. There, I said it and I stand by it. Meat on sticks? A whole fish? Kitch Décor from its western-themed predecessor ‘Cask and Cleaver’ which has been untouched since the mid 90’s and gets increasingly more confusing and problematic as time goes on? It’s got it all. There’s even a very small and inexplicably high stage which teases the prospect of Karaoke, which adds a thrilling ‘will they won’t they’ element to your dining experience. Few have actually witnessed this, but it is really something. Once, I was mid crispy chicken skin skewer when an adorable young girl took her spot on that incredibly high stage, and started singing into a crackly microphone. It was beautiful, and it really added to my cumin spice high. What is this cumin spice high you ask? Well, it is exactly what it sounds like. Picture this: the place is jam packed, you're on your 27th skewer, you’ve had more than enough beer so you’ve moved onto a pineapple jelly soda, you’re sweating, the food is hot, the smoking step is already full and the stairs are far too steep to risk heading down to the car park, and things start to get a bit weird. The room gets louder, and the skewers keep coming at a rapid pace. It’s a lot. If I was to write a song about Gogo’s it would go a little something like “Cumin, cumin everywhere, on my clothes and in my hair”. It’s a work in progress. Damn, I bloody love that place. 

I digress. 

Dartz even sit down to a dumpling or 12 at New Flavour restaurant (or is it Barilla? Or perhaps Spicy house?) with the Don himself.  The band took McGlashan and his manager out for dinner, and according to all sources he does, in fact, approve of their remake. 

One moment of the video that I find particularly poignant is when the friends dine alfresco beneath the significantly sized stompers of (white) Boy Walking, Artist Ronnie Van Hout’s 5.6m hyper-realistic sculpture in Potters Park. As The Boy confidently treads on what I can only assume is a succulent Chinese meal, I can’t help but wonder how much Dominion road might have changed since the songs original release 1992. This moment to me, is as juicy as the contents of those polystyrene containers. It lends itself to a much greater discussion about the gentrification of these iconic Tāmaki Makaurau areas that I can merely scratch the surface of in this already-well-over-suggested-word-count response, so I will just leave you with that. Food for thought, heh.  

Good shit boys, Love ya work. 

Review by Lucy Suttor

First things first, I know nothing about music and this is the first song I have heard by Hans Pucket. BUT I do listen to a lot of christmas music, through choice, in the last two months of the year, and so I will be assessing this song on it’s qualities as a christmas song.

IDKWTGYFC (DIRLY) steers away from the “sincere belief in the magic of Christmas” themes that dominates the genre, and focuses on the universal practicalities. Online shopping time frames, appropriate gift choice, consumerist waste. All definitely relatable seasonal concerns. So ticks there. Also it’s actually about love, and that is very christmassy. May as well be a hallmark movie. Tick tick tick. But if you are a holiday skeptic this also won’t grate on you! There are no bells or choirs or christian imagery. It does not evoke winters in another hemisphere or reindeer dashing and prancing by the window. But it’s a little beautiful and relatable and realistic, and there’s a place for that this time of year.

I would pair it on a playlist with things like Phoebe Bridgers If We Make It Through December EP and the Beths excellent version of ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’.

The nice thing about Christmas music is there is something for everyone.

Review by avid Christmas Music listener, Leroy Beckett

It is not often I consider a tab on Chrome to be a little pocket of peaceful darkness from which beauty can be tapped into. All week I have kept Samara Alofa’s Bandcamp page open, tucking it behind emails, social media, Google Docs. Its favicon has soothed me, a black square with a bright blue multi-layered, multi-featured face in its centre. When I have spare moments, I play B.T.T.G (Back to the Gods) quietly to myself. 

The song seems to resonate out of darkness, like the moon catching tips of waves at night-time. Layered translucent vocals, gentle beats and rhythmic synthesised tones build a slow soundscape. Here is a place where sounds shift, are dismantled, turned anew, and reemerge. Here is a place made of soft, textured dissipation: ‘Kiss me o so softly.’ Here is the sky, blue and suspended with tiny droplets of water, moonlight misted: ‘oh feel so lovely’. This is a song materialising the unseen, asking for the past and the future. They are calling forth something, and I, tuning in through my browser window, am enchanted.

Review by Gabi Lardies.

I’ve heard enough yuletide songs. I even wrote one once. It’s not exactly a genre of music I feel excited by anymore. So when the subject of the email from Ant is “250 words on this? ‘Pop Punk Xmas’ “ I wasn’t thrilled. I guess playing in emo covers bands garners a certain reputation. 

And yet. This song is sick. Checking off the pop-punk formula like Santa’s wishlist,  “Not Another Pop Punk Christmas” by How to Escape Reality is immediately reminiscent of the bands I grew up on. Almost too much.

I’ve no idea who’s behind this act but I am certain that A) They can play the hell out of a guitar and B) They love the Black Parade. Vacuum packed into 3:30 of stacked JCM900 guitars, halftime drums and octaved leads the song's cliche approach is betrayed by a sing-able hook that I am angry I enjoy. Pre-bent melody lines in the downchorus bridge just work. The production sits in a way that I could easily fit this song in a “This Is Pop-Punk!” playlist between New Found Glory and Paramore.  This is all carried by a brick wall arrangement but suspiciously there’s no backing vocals. No keys or real ‘riff’. The vocal line is the hook. This is a good thing - I think song instrumentation should be as slim as possible and I didn’t hear a single jingle bell or chime.

Thank god. Good work team. 

Is it too much like a My Chemical Romance song? I don’t think so. It’s not quite whiny enough, and nobody’s screaming at me yet. It’s certainly in the self-pity ballpark, but feeling sorry for yourself at Christmas time is a New Zealand tradition, like backyard cricket. At least in my family. Tackling a familiar “what-about-me” sentiment, rhyming “year” with “dear” and “do” with “blue”, I’d normally be pretty dismissive of the attempt but somehow I have played this 20 times and do not feel bored, I just want the payoff pinch harmonic solo again. There’s a ramshackle, adolescent NZ poetry to it all.

At any rate. It’s miles above any Christmas song I’ve ever written, and really, in the same way people watch Die Hard all year round, should be enjoyed the same way. There’s been a real resurgence in this genre in 2021, and I hope that I’ll be receiving exactly what I asked Saint Nick for - more of this good shit. 

Review by James Mac.