17 year old Aidan Ripley grew up wrapped in alternative music. He’s always been intrigued by the juxtaposition of an “intense emotional reaction” to the “apathy of the modern world”. Drawing inspiration from epics Gorillaz, Radiohead and Tame Impala, Ripley “amalgamates hyper emotion with complete detachment”. The resulting sound is intriguing and impressive. Ripley made his Spotify debut this year with three singles, each complex and fascinating.

Clown is a sinister and experimental piece of writing. The opening bars reminded me of the brilliant Eels, but the track quickly walks in several different directions. The weird synths and dripping water percussion lock into a groove, and Ripley croons about how “tomorrow cries for yesterday”. The chaotic energy in the track feels perfect for the unhinged nature of 2020. The piece plays around with reverb and repeating synth lines, building an immersive and consuming soundscape. I particularly loved the bassline, which does an awesome job of making Clown feel winding.

All of Clown was improvised as it was recorded, which explains the unpredictable nature of the track. Ripley uses surprise falsetto to unnerve the listener – the melody goes where it shouldn’t. In combination with eerie flute and a trumpet outro, Clown is somewhere between a bad trip and ingenious. I live for the chaos though; I can honestly say the track is wildly different from anything I’ve heard in a while.

Aidan Ripley feels like an act to watch. I’m interested in following the direction of his music – it’s amazing the complexity and maturity he’s found in his sound already. You can follow him too, on Instagram.

EJ Barrett is a musical phenomenon releasing music that straddles soul, blues and jazz all while using nothing but her voice, body percussion and a Boss RC-505 loop station. The unique New Zealand based artist writes about her adventures in polyamory as a queer, neuro-divergent, millennial parent. The resounding success of her music and steadily growing followers suggest that she fits a niche in media that an underrepresented community needs filled.

EJ’s latest track Paint Me A Picture is unique not only in sound, but lyrical content too. It opens with Kimbra-esque backing vocals, and a breathy “shaker”. The sultry soundscape moves into the lyrics “paint me a picture of how you hold your wife at night, and how I might fit there too”. EJ wants to send the message that monogamy is a social construct, and by no means compulsory. 

Paint Me A Picture is accompanied by a mesmerising music video showcasing EJ’s circus arts training. The video was created in collaboration with Tairawhiti TV. EJ fire dances on a dimly lit stage, delivering the song with confidence. The video ultimately ends with her swallowing the fire, making the video a spectacle to view. I would love to see EJ Barrett live; you can almost sense the energy of a live show through the screen.

Keep up with EJ Barrett and her music making, fire eating, world changing shenanigans on Instagram and Facebook.

Photo Credit : Katie Fromings

Following the success of her earlier single Lucky Stars, the effortlessly cool Mikaela Cougar is back with See Straight. Mikaela Cougar is a free spirit from West Auckland’s black sand beaches whose music reflects the eerie beauty of her environment. 

Cougar wrote See Straight at a time when she felt “alone and helpless in this big world”. She surrounded her lyrics with “sounds that reflected her yearning for support and belonging”. The track begins with an eerie repetition of the title “can’t see straight”. She uses her natural affinity for words to describe herself as “honey dipped… but I don’t feel like it”. She uses the metaphor of “getting dusty on (a) shelf” to capture a sense of feeling left behind. This poetic lyricism makes the song otherworldly, and despite the vulnerable nature of the subject matter the See Straight somehow feels empowering.

The production of See Straight is creative – the use of a combination of synths, backing vocals and strings give the track a building, foreboding feel. See Straight is heading towards the swelling bridge, which almost becomes overwhelming. This moment is meant to provide a “glimmer of hope” as it dissipates into a final chorus. Just as the intensity of the song has passed, so too will the space Cougar was in when she wrote it.

See Straight is accompanied by a self directed and edited music video showcasing beautiful New Zealand beaches and retro indoor scenes. The music video is artfully paced to compliment and emphasise emotional points in the music. 

For those of you (me) who’ve fallen in love with this up and coming artist, I have good news. Cougar is releasing not only a third single, but a full EP later this year. Keep up with her on Instagram and Facebook.

From the ‘As Told By Ginger’ artwork to the small town NZ lyrics, Belladonna’s debut EP Salty Dog will punch you in the gut with nostalgia. Belladonna may be new to releasing music, but her songwriting is far from amateur. There is a maturity and sincerity in her writing that promises to impress. Salty Dog is a collection of songs about “adjusting into late adolescence through a pretty New Zealand perspective”.

The title track begins with an engaging synth before rolling into a classic indie soundscape. It’s an endearingly apathetic piece of writing; the little details like calling her Mum, who’s “got more on than (her) most days” ground the track in whimsical reality. Belladonna’s dreamy vocals bring a sense of fantasy to the every day. In the second track Hands she thinks of sweet every day moments like wearing someone else’s sweater. This track is accompanied by a lyric video compiled of footage from the early naughties show ‘As Told By Ginger’; it’s a genuine coming of age love song. I love the simplicity of the sentiment “you didn’t have to be the last to leave, but you were, and I think I like it.” Hands is a track sewn together with first time butterflies.

Calling Out Your Name brings a change in vibe with a brighter tone, and the use of a quirky synth lead in the chorus. The chorus is catchy and well written— I’m expecting to hear this track on my next trip to Countdown. I love the embrace of the New Zealand accent and the dynamic groove. This track in particular I could see being very fun to watch live.

The song that hit home most for me was Perfectly Good. It held hands with some of my high school memories. It made me want to travel back in time to make hot chocolates for friends processing the emotions that Perfectly Good embodies. The song resonated bitter sweetly with memories that are both vivid and fading.

Salty Dog is a collection of songs that I’d love to see live. The production is polished and fun, and Belladonna is to be congratulated on an excellent first release. Head over to Newtown Library in Wellington to celebrate on the 28th of August.

Aidan Verity is a breath of fresh air from Wellington, New Zealand. Her music, written in a  retro time lapse, sends the listener straight to a 1960s prom. Classically trained, Verity uses her musical knowledge and intuition to walk between acoustic and electric soundscapes. Her latest release Believe in Me is thoughtful and clever.

Believe In Me was written from the pits of self doubt. Verity found herself swaddled in a blanket lamenting her inability to back herself. She explores her struggle with changing her own mind, and asks the question “how long until I can say I believe in me?” This question eventually fades away, unanswered.

Heavily influenced by Christine and the Queens, the track has a mesmerising, swaying feel to it. A quarter of the way through Believe In Me develops with epic use of affected backing vocals. Verity demonstrates her skill as a writer and performer, concluding the piece with an almost spiritual use of reverb.

Keep up with her on Facebook and Instagram.

Can’t Know All The Songs begins with an epic 80s drum fill and groovy synth. Once again, Gecko has achieved the near impossible of writing “comedy music you’d actually add to a playlist”. The track is characterful and well produced. He’s made such an impact with the song that Wheatus (remember Teenage Dirtbag?) tweeted about it.

Verse one jumps into a Gecko-style internal monologue. He strings metaphors together to paint a ludicrous picture of what it’s like to have the audience yell “play Wonderwall” during your original set. Can’t Know All The Songs is an anthem for anyone who’s ever played a gig.

We had the pleasure of seeing him perform this single at a Sofar gig early this year, and the audience was in stitches with laughter. Gecko manages to translate his personality into recording with flair. His comedic timing and tone of voice allow the jokes to translate to the recorded medium. The song pulls back for a mock emotional bridge before finishing with a final epic chorus. Don’t miss Gecko— he’s an absolute riot.

We bumped into an old friend from uni the moment we entered the bar. Much like the artists, we’re back in New Zealand while we give the other continents space to breathe for a while. It’s sort of comforting though, to be in my hometown while the world is crumbling. There was an electricity in the air; kiwis had been clawing at the walls to get out for a pint, and New Zealand was 21 days corona free. Time for a party.

Wunderbar is a local treasure— the beer taps light up like christmas, and the baby head lamps give it a certain je nes sais quoi. The bar was brimming with socially starved millennial, and the gig space was packed. We thought we might not find space in the room, but managed to weasel our way to front stage. It’s a good thing we did, because what followed was the most incredible, intimate acoustic set I’ve seen since sofar.

Eddie Kiesanowski of Pretty Stooked opened the gig like he owned the bar. New to solo sets but no rookie on the stage he seemed comfortable, and so stoked to be there. His stage presence is laid back and welcoming. Charisma aside, the man’s songwriting is phenomenal. He shared a smorgasboard of songs; some old, and some written over lockdown. It’s difficult to pick one facet of the performance to focus on— we were impressed by the sense of witty humanity in his lyrics, but perhaps most floored by the power in his vocal performance.

Pretty Stooked was a tough act to follow, but MIM rose to the challenge like a helium balloon. She too seemed incredibly comfortable on stage, and chatted to us like old friends. Her emotive voice had the audience leaning in to catch each detail as she regaled us with tales of introspection and mental illness. Moments later she would unleash her insanely powerful voice for a long held note that demanded applause. For the second half of the set MIM was supported by friend Seb Warren, who added another layer of beauty and colour to the evening with his guitar playing and backing vocals.