Radio One 91FM

There are some that say surf rock has had its day in Ōtepoti, but not if 4-piece outfit The Audio Visual Drop Kicks (nicknamed ‘The Kicks’, with adoration) have anything to say about it. Having kicked (pun intended) up a name for themselves within the student scene over the past couple of years, they booked in a classic Crown Hotel slot for their ‘Betterland’ debut-album release gig. Myself and Radio One leech Peter Barclay were ecstatic to head down to jump, sway, and sing along. 

Right on the dot of when he was supposed to be on stage, Dibs (the solo project of Caribou lead vocalist, Mario), casually sauntered in dressed in a baby pink zip-up jumper, matching pink and sky blue cargo pants, and an off-centered 2010s Justin Bieber-esk cap that read ‘Hi Haters’ in vintage cursive. Now that’s what I call a fit. On stage, he dives straight into a thrashy cover of Misserlou with only drums to accompany his distorted guitar tone. His songs and covers move from fast-paced bangers to slower lo-fi ballads, and then bounce back with more loose yet punchy original tracks. The whole time I'm feeling like I'm watching an early Surf Curse set. Dibs yells into the mic, and even though I had zero clue what he was saying (I think one of the songs was about buying a mattress), his passion was magnetic. Raw is the word to describe this act, but it’s to their advantage. It’s playful. It’s fun. It’s got energy coming out of its Converse high-tops. It doesn’t give a toss if you like it or not, and it definitely makes people move. 

Purple Dog is the second opener. They’re a band that has solidified their spot in the current student scene, bringing more of a (welcomed) pop-oriented taste to the landscape. It’s the kind of music that promotes dancing, with lead singer Imogen’s sunny-side-up vocals beautifully reminiscent of 2014 indie-pop. Singing lead without an instrument can be awkward, and possessing an engaging stage presence is as much of a talent as ripping a mean guitar solo. But there’s no sign of awkwardness when Imogen twirls around on stage, reaching her hand out to the audience with an infectious smile across her face - her microphone a tool to harness rather than something to be afraid of. Covers of Go Your Own Way, Message In A Bottle, and Just Like Heaven go down a treat with the crowd. But it’s their own single Cricket Enthusiast at the end of their set that really brings down the house. 

This is the last stop on their album release tour for AVDK, and they kick (hah) off this show with great energy. Kaia’s vocals are confident and strong. Drummer Shaarav is locked-in behind the kit, leaning forward into the music and rapid with the sticks. Bassist Jeremy balances vocals and bass, still keeping up an enigmatic presence for both. Lead Guitarist George closes his eyes and grooves along, truly in touch with his own playing and appearing cool as a cucumber on-stage - he is captivating guitarist to watch, with such sudden yet precise movements. If you’re as much of an avid enjoyer of Surf Rock as I am, you can’t go wrong with this act - the riffs, the reverb, the builds; all the hallmarks of the genre during its 2010s-revival period are present in spades across their album. 

During a slower track (Blue Orchids), we’re encouraged by the band to find someone to slow dance with. A line of us link arms, swaying along as the song builds, and thrashing our heads when it culminates into an almost Stone Roses reminiscent third act. When they break for a re-tune, Jeremy plays Simon Says with the audience - clap, hand on head, “dance to this next one, now take two big steps forward”. Kaia teases more fun games - is this a gig or a birthday party? Either way, I'm into it. The creative crowd interaction is kept up, we’re told to let loose and, “who knows where we’ll end up!” (Peter turns eagerly towards me: ‘Caro?’) The band ends on a cover of Boys In The Better Land which gets everyone jumping one last time, and then we head out the door after watching Dibs eat all of the ‘Jonesy Special’ pies.

The first thing that hits you when Vera Ellen walk on-stage is their dedication to the bit. Bob haircuts, baggy dress shirts, matching ties: all giving a beautiful sense of '90s I-Don’t-Give-A-F**k energy. The percussion is heavy, at times contrasting with Vera’s soft vocals, before complimenting them when she wails into the microphone in her signature perfectly-imperfect style. With her ferocious bite, a song like 'Broadway Junction' (the stand-out of her set, by far) becomes a piercing exercise in vulnerability. Vera opens her heart to the audience, and they gladly take it, as they bear witness to the anger building — not only in Vera’s own performance, but in every guitar strum and drum beat. The power of live music is being able to be a collective part of something like that, summed up simplistically but accurately by a fellow audience-member who whispered to me as we cheered: “Gives you goosebumps”.

With an off-kilter violin sending a dizzyingly, spellbinding effect across the crowd over sludgy bass, Reb Fountain takes the stage. She stomps her feet with aggression as her hands dance delicately in the air around her — she performs not only with her voice, her body becomes its own instrument. The lyrics wound you as much as the experiences she’s singing about may have wounded her. Her growling vocals and the haunting, swampy quality of the instruments flawlessly match the ‘witchy’ exterior of the band. When the instruments cut and only Reb’s voice hits the air, the audience goes mute. We are mere mortals compared to her and we savour every little crack in her vocals as she declares; “I carry myself like a f***ing boss”. The musicians' talent can be subtle at times, adding small yet powerful details to the overall sound, but when she compels us to “come dance in the shadows”, it builds to a murkier, dirtier, darker level; becoming an overwhelming noise backing Reb’s intoxicating request. These are the shadows you are now dancing in, and it is glorious. She leaves us with ‘Don’t You Know Who I Am’ and even the most stubborn audience-members are moving now. Reb points her finger across the crowd, her voice and eyes accusing every one of us. Going from delicate whispering to screaming into the mic, Reb’s finale ends in a monumental round of applause carrying on even after the band has completely left the stage.

Voom’s approach to their performance was a departure from the previous acts, immediately obvious from Buzz Moller’s compliment to the Dunedin weather (a quick trick to getting the crowd on your side). The music was, of course, extremely tight — especially the drumming. Scratchy, almost twangy vocals that still held a youthful aggression were encased in reverb and distortion. Most impressive was Buzz’s storytelling. Between each song, he’d give us succinct and witty tales behind its creation, sending ripples of laughter across the crowd. But when the music kicks in again, you feel as though you’re perpetually in the ending sequence of a 2010s-indie flick (in the best way possible). The guitars carry the emotional core of the songs, and the vocals pull in and out as if adrift at sea. Simply, it was a very fun set to watch — especially when Buzz sang ‘Martin Phillipps’ to the actual Martin Phillipps.

Each act delivered something different: Vera’s raw edginess, Reb’s wistful art ballads, and Voom’s tight indie-indie anthems. Yet there is one thing that ties them all together, a golden thread of vulnerability through performance, lyrics, and sound. You cannot come out of this show having not been deeply touched by their music.

This piece was written as part of a wider review of the Voom, Reb Fountain and Vera Ellen tour by the SRN (Student Radio Network) and originally published on UndertheRadar.