You can never catch up. Sure, you can pick out some of the great ones to go see, but that’s not the same thing as seeing what the great ones spring out of, which is all the crap.
~ Pauline Kael (1992)
My father, he just treats me like art
He's a critic, yeah he picks me apart
~ Theia, ‘Dollhouse’ (2023)
I’ll always remember watching the then-New Zealand Music Awards a decade or so ago, live on TV, and the roaming presenter’s interviewing “Alternative” nominee Emily Edrosa (Street Chant), who, looking around the room, dismissed the whole game, the industry and its representatives, in bleak and scathing terms. I thought at first she was overdoing the “indie” bit, but an hour or so later I could see she was the only person there who spoke the truth.
However, it is 2025, the music industry isn’t what it used to be, and one aspect of this is that the artists are trusted to make more of their own choices, indeed are being trained to do this, are being turned into their own keepers. They can be trusted now, because there are fewer scrappy underclass players like Edrosa or Tom Scott in the game, upsetting its expectations. There are more and more educated and well-looked-after people wanting to play the rock and pop game and make coin and fame from the genres invented by addicts and lunatics, runaways and perverts back in the ghettos of pop history. At the same time, by trusting the talent that’s internalized their values, the suits get a little more open to the variety of musical experience in awards season, and the AMA finalists list now has considerable overlap with that of the more independent Taite Prize.1 Full credit to Max Johns for listening to and describing every one of 81 Taite Nominees this year for The Spinoff, a brilliant feat of music journalism that I hope to see repeated for future rounds.
Hahko at Mt Noise has had a go at analyzing past NZMA and AMA trends, predicting that the Hip Hop category rewards longevity over freshness, in which case David Dallas (OG on Scribe’s ‘Not Many’ remix, 2001) will beat Jujulips fine Afro-trap EP Superstar and the 2024 work of RNZO, a modern hip-house rapper in the UK style who reminds me of Mr Traumatik, one of Sage’s favourites mentioned in my 2024 AOTY list.
Straight up, I’m there for Dallas for the existential honesty of his Vita. ‘Bourdain’ is the second dedication to the late chef I’ve enjoyed this year, after Asia Argento’s ‘My A’. Unlike Argento’s, Dallas’s school of hip hop largely eschews hypertrap beats and other modern touches, and dreams of yesterday’s banknotes, still redeemable, spilling from its ATM. Vita may not have the full trap sound but its ethos is exactly “factual pain music” and Dallas’ relatively humble flow conveys such devastating feelings that most of the other AMA finalists should be studying it.
The musical conservatism of Vita is baked-in, justified, part of its weight, but conservatism isn’t always a positive feature of NZ music. Corella, up for a group award as well as the Roots category, render perfectly the Bob Marley reggae sound that had a revolutionary impact in New Zealand, indeed helped turn NZ into Aotearoa, when the Wailers’ Catch a Fire hit the shops in 1973. Corella’s innovation is to sit a lovely female vocal on top, but, 50 years in, this is hardly revolutionary. Still, at least they haven’t gelded the sound like L.A.B., this year’s (every year’s) BBQ reggae favourites. Reggae is far from played out (dub is still an important concept, I’ve heard welcome traces of reggaeton in one or two te reo tracks this year, and I’ll get in to reggae’s influence on trap in the next blog), but you wouldn’t know this from the AMA listings.
The conservatism of the once-revolutionary is most obvious in the Alternative category; “Alternative” in NZ music terms is where we keep the Pakeha Roots music, i.e. the post-Boodle Flying Nun tribute acts. Don’t get me wrong, they’re good this year; Jim Nothing has crystalized the 1980’s Dunedin Sound to a perfection it rarely enjoyed in its heyday, making Grey Eyes, Grey Lynn Hayley’s favourite finalist.
Vera Ellen adds something modern - anxiety, self-obsession - to a sound that, on the lo-fi title track of heartache for jetlag, reminds me of the arty end of NZ indie, Bill Direen and i.e. crazy, almost looping back to its very root, Phil Judd’s performance on Split Ends’ Mental Notes (1975). The most innovative, indeed alternative of the 3 albums in the “alternative” category is the one actually produced by a Flying Nun alumni, Louisa Nicklin’s The Big Sulk; Shayne Carter has fully realized the potential of Nicklin’s vocal and its interaction with the sound of electric guitars, lovingly played and recorded; Nicklin’s songwriting on The Big Sulk stretches from the barnstorming rocker ‘Thick’ to drifting Tom Yorke-ish art songs.
But why isn’t Fazerdaze Soft Power called “Alternative”? It’s a fuzzy version of Alt—pop with more dancable beats, albeit slowed, and nostalgic perhaps for 90’s chill-out dream pop (‘So Easy’ reminds me of, of all things, All Saints). It’s the sort of thing I’m happy to listen to and enjoy, and it’s better and more varied than I expected. ‘Bigger’ starts with an indie I-IV bass strum like a Smashing Pumpkins song, then - a subtler version of the ‘Psilocybin and Daisies’ trick - Amelia Clarke, unexpectedly, hits breathy Lana Del Rey notes that pull the listener into the present.
As I’ve said before, Born To Die (2012) was a watershed in the history of pop, a genre creation event comparable to Black Sabbath (1970) or ‘That’s Alright Mama’ (1956) or whatever Rolling Stones record kicked off garage punk. On the strength of Posey Parker’s performance in White Lotus 3 we watched her 1995 film Party Girl recently. I enjoyed it, 7/10, and indeed recommend it as an essential text for understanding modern dance music, while Hayley gave it one point, for its take on 90’s fashion. There’s a scene where Posey’s character, the Party Girl whose quest is to become a librarian for some reason, reorders all her DJ flatmates’ vinyl under the Dewey Decimal system. This actually makes more sense than the dated point-of-sale classification used by the AMAs; we’d find Fazerdaze close to Reb Fountain’s gorgeous ‘Come Down’ and Death and the Maiden’s Uneven Ground (in the AMAs for its cover artwork, but UG shoulda been an AOTY or Alternative contender).
The sounds most “Alternative” to my ears are to be found in the Electronic section; CHAII’s Safar achieves, on ‘Drippin In Gold’ (cowritten with Tom Scott, but that’s not important) a new rhythmic feel, something Kiwi music can always use. I’m a fan of Orientalism, defined as the incorporation of East-of-European ideas into the latest Western forms, as well as its converse (those Miley Cyrus chords in a Bollywood song at the restaurant last night), and everywhere on Safar there are musical reminders of Chaii’s Persian roots, which is, though my introduction to Persian music, still Kiwi as if you live in Auckland, helping to make it an imaginatively realized and unique version of 2025’s genre-and-culture blending global dance-pop. ‘Night Like This’, also up for best video, is the first Kiwi tune I’ve heard smashing a reggaeton sound, and the thrill of accelerationism hitting our shores is all through these grooves.
All 3 electronic albums are good. Lee Mvtthews Exit (the work of the two DJ team of Graham Matthews and Tom Lee) is a diverse set of essays in d’n’b hyperpop, and ‘Circles (feat Amila)’, like the new single ‘Ready 4 it’, is the modern equivalent of a freakbeat track, rocking around its few changes, winding up the tension. Amila’s voice here is an airbrushed blur, giving the project an abstract, high art quality; I may prefer it when autotune accentuates a singer’s personality, as it’s used on Safar, but this is good work indeed.
Mokotron’s WAEREA, a critical favourite, starts by dropping on-point d’n’b licks (“electro bass” in his words) into a te reo chant, in an immersive work of Māorifuturism (“Tino Rangatiratron”).2 On his Bandcamp, Mokotron, in civilian life professor of Māori and Pasifik studies, lists Westcyde amongst iwi, and trauma among his inspirations, and the supernatural feel of tracks like ŌHĀKĪ goes over my language barrier better than the dub reggae. In my record collection I have what may be the first Māori electronica recording, Douglas Lilburn’s setting of Alastair Campbell’s poem The Return (1967), its powerful te reo centre section voiced by Mahi Potiki through a ring modulator, and I can hear WAEREA as a further step in this tradition, while also acknowledging its links to indigenous electropop - where would ‘Poi E’ be without its awesome bassline?
Theia, a contender for Best Single with ‘BALDH3AD!’, describes her persona as Māori fairy and makes pop music that sometimes toys with the idea of bad-girl traprock, like a PG Alexis Munroe. It’s hard to make this stuff work 100% if you’ve had a not-awful childhood and can find the resources to do it comfortably, but ‘Crucified By U’ from 2023’s anti-Christian Dollhouse EP, a highlight in Theia’s career so far, was excellent.
3
In the olden times songs were played on the radio, and this was the proof of the pudding. Coincidentally, though I hardly ever listen to the radio these days, I heard two finalists the other day; it’s not surprising that Tony Stamp on RNZ’s sampler played the latin jazz track ‘Escape Capsule’ from Best Jazz finalist Lucien Johnson’s Ancient Relics, but how beautiful it was, the Coltranes meeting Horace Silver, with Johnson’s perfectly embouchured sax bringing forth a series of melodic pearls, as good as anything you might be tempted to compare it to.
Going through the Best Singles, Cassie Henderson’s ‘Seconds To Midnight (11.59)’ mildly aroused my pedantry, then got my back up with its ABBA-esque 70’s discopop arrangement and early 2000’s A-pop voice. Are all these retro touches actually adding up to the current thing, is this supposed to sound like Chapel Roan or something, I can’t tell. But I was wowed a little at hearing this tosh on a ZM station next to Olivia Rodrigo in a few seconds of channel surfing on the car stereo. The system works!
Something I didn’t expect to like as much as I did is Troy Kingi’s desert rock pastiche Leatherman And The Mojave Green, up for Best Album. Kingi’s an artist so capable and prolific that he approaches glibness, a bit like Frank Zappa without the kinks and the chip on the shoulder. On Leatherman he approaches 21st Century US hard rock with a cheerful can-do attitude, and comes up with something that I actually find preferable to the real thing, reminding me of The Pretty Thing’s Electric Banana psych-rock pastiche album. I don’t expect to find depths in here, but their lack isn’t obvious, the sounds and Kingi’s joy in making them are compelling, and the fist-pumping goodness of ‘Silicone Booby Trap’ is one of the best things on the AMA’s list.
I really wanted to like the Devilskin entry, to acknowledge the Kiwi Metal tradition, and women in Metal, and celebrate having cover versions on albums again, but the actual music, the stunted riffs, the attempt at ‘Barracuda’ that immediately pointed out every special element in the original by denying the lot, defeated my pretensions. Maybe next time. Also, what, there’s no other Metal acts in Te Motu?
I’ll leave with the effort that Hayley, no great trap fan yet, said has “more soul than the rest of them put together”, JessB’s ‘Power (feat. Sister Nancy & Sampa The Great)’.
Hypertrap and reggaeton are two styles that Kiwi music has largely resisted, and in the AMA’s we find that a handful of Tauiwi disrupters are asking the Māori and European partnership to eat their dust when it comes to adapting these innovations - at least, according to the AMA’s Official Version - something to think about!
(Winners announced 29 May)
Outside the Algorithm - Diaz Grimm ‘STUCK ON THE BENEE ft. Matt Mille’, from Maui & the Sin, one of the Taite nominees that didn’t make the shortlist or AMA finals, a good set of indigenous hypertrap.
Part 3 of Dave Moore’s A-pop series offers a less resentimental way of understanding the change.
Māorifuturism is an intersection of culture, technology and the future. It will explore new territories of possible futures or alternate realities for Māori culture through speculative narratives, considering mysticism, metaphysics, identity and liberation.
Jessica Young, 2017 Auckland University masters thesis
Theia hails from Christchurch, who can blame her.
Hadn't heard that Jim Nothing records before. Great stuff!