Before the Taite Music Prize shortlist drops next week, Max Johns listens to whatever the New Zealand music industry has to throw at him. Again.

Read reviews of all 81 albums nominated for the 2025 award here.

Pity the people who run the annual Taite Music Prize. It’s nerve-racking enough for Independent Music New Zealand (IMNZ) that the prize honours Dylan Taite (1937-2003), a music journalist with unimprovable taste and an undeniable ability to always be noticed. On top of that, they need to find a winning album based on originality, artistic merit, creativity and excellence. You can’t just scan the music charts or chuck on a What’s Hot playlist.

So, how to unearth the successor to current holder Mokotron (for his subwoofer-shaking onslaught of deep Māori bass, WAEREA) or 2024’s Vera Ellen (Ideal Home Music, a fragile and personal wonder)? At stake is a $12,500 cash prize, a hefty T-shaped trophy, and one of the most treasured titles in our little country’s entertainment industry.

Luckily IMNZ have designed a very clever system that ensures underground obscurities have as much chance as smash hit platinum records. The secret? It’s an absolute free-for-all. 

Any of IMNZ’s 1,000+ members, or anyone who stumps up a hundred bucks, can nominate any 2025 album they like, even their own. It’s got to be local enough, long enough (6 tracks, 20 minutes), and 75% new songs. That’s it. The whole lot then goes a massive vote of around 1,200 musicians and industry types. This year there are 83 hopefuls.

It’ll get a little more formal next Tuesday when a ten-album shortlist goes in front of a secret, elite judging panel.

For a particular type of local music enthusiast, the longlist is an annual Aoraki of listening. It contains enough newish local music to fill seven work days, or one absolute bender of a long weekend. You know there’ll be some blindingly good shit, some deafening dross, and everything in between. You know it’ll sound like us.

So, let’s start climbing.

1. Te Rā, by Alien Weaponry

And we’re off with a massive bang. Alien Weaponry’s Māori-infused thrash metal has been earning fans around the world for years now. The best bits of Te Rā (‘Crown’, ‘Te Riri o Tāwhirimātea’) mix stonking riffs, te reo and haka in a way that could only be Alien Weaponry. Less distinctive English tracks replace decolonisation with nu metal angst. Precision, anger and energy burn bright, and Henry de Jong’s drumming is a headphone highlight.

One for the playlist: ‘Crown’

Taites history: Best Independent Debut Award winners and Taite Music Prize finalists, 2019 (Tū)

2. My Name Is David, by Alphabethead

An electronic album that squeezes a lot out of its machines, keyboards and turntables. Dancefloors, soundscapes, oldskool trance reboots and novelty chiptune throwbacks are all thrown together. Add kitschy vocal samples from Lucy Lawless and Thunderbirds, and it’s like listening to pop art. Fun fact: Alphabethead’s name is indeed David.

One for the playlist: ‘I’m Lucy Lawless’

3. The Nerve, by AW

Without the thumping rhythm section of Die! Die! Die!, Andrew Wilson’s trebly, fuzzy guitars scratch rather than punch on this lo-fi solo debut. That’s a jagged counterpoint to his heavily-echoing voice, but it’s almost as if the sounds want to hide behind each other. Some good lyrics are hard to pick up. A new experiment, but not his best.

One for the playlist: ‘HATE GUITARS’

Taites history: Finalist with Die! Die! Die!, 2011 (Form)

4. Raceways Of My Heart, by Baby Zionov

Raceways Of My Heart transports you to a daytime, all-ages rave. In the Vengabus. It’s stupid, it’s fun, it’s electropop on fast forward.

One for the playlist: ‘Space Holiday’

5. I’m Doing Better, by Bakers Eddy

Six tracks of pop-punk race by in 17 minutes, and it’s a positively deep experience after Baby Zionov. Professionally done, party-ready stuff that calls back to the 2000s while still sounding fresh. Consistent enough that every song has radio-friendly potential, catchy enough that something big might happen.

One for the playlist: ‘Caroline’

6. The Dark Backward, by Matthew Bannister

Bannister (The Changing Same, Sneaky Feelings, etc) tackles the concept of time with the unjaded curiosity of a youngster and the cultural touchpoints of a smart guy in his fifth decade of songwriting. Thoughtful lyrics include Byrds and Beatles references as his light rock switches between guitar, piano and keys. (Disclosure: Bannister is in my Wednesday night cricket team – go the Lumee Spuds – and didn’t realise that his album was nominated.)

One for the playlist: ‘What’s So Good About the 60s?’

7. Corner Coming Up, by The Bats

For most of their 44 years The Bats’ biggest strength, and weakness, was a catchy indie rock formula that barely changed. As The Spinoff said of The Deep Set in 2017, “this sounds like every other Bats album”. Not anymore. Corner Coming Up is slower and deeper, with texture and angles that a younger band couldn’t create. A couple of songs return to old patterns (see ‘A Crutch A Post’), but the reflective and more mature tracks are where the album will grow on you.

One for the playlist (except it’s not on Spotify): ‘Song for the End’

Taites history: Finalists, 2012 (Free All The Monsters)

8. High Tide, by BB & The Bullets

Blues rock from a trio that I now really want to see live, because there’s some serious chops here. Plentiful cover versions draw on Booker T. Jones, Bo Diddley, Rufus Thomas, BB King and, most boldly of all, ‘I Want You (She’s So Heavy)’ by the Beatles. Brian Baker’s originals hold up but don’t get close to reaching the 75% mark that the Taite Music Prize requires. Good, but disqualified.

One for the playlist, and make it original: ‘Brian’s Boogie’

9. The Ship // The Sea, by Beastwars

Maybe – just maybe – there might one day be another New Zealand band that can match Beastwars for sludge metal riffs. But vocalist Matt Hyde’s controlled howls and jet engine screams? Never. The Ship // The Sea is possibly a little more melodic than previous albums, but no less heavy. It’s a low aural assault; a relentless storm. Genuine legends.

One for the playlist: ‘Blood Will Flow’

Taite history: Finalists in 2012 (Beastwars), 2014 (Blood Becomes Fire), and 2020 (IV)

10. Arcus Way, by Belladonna

Acoustic, understated and insular, Belladonna is everything that Beastwars are not. The gear change is almost physical. Belladonna’s compositions, just big enough to fill a bedroom, blend folk and country ballads. We are lifted out of sad-girl territory by artistic touches: beautiful harmonies, choir-like backing vocals, and lap steel guitar.

One for the playlist: ‘Comedown’

11. The Expectation and Experience of Dissonance, by The Bemsha Swing

A rock duo with more ideas than direction. Raspy vocals gain, but don’t always hold, attention as songs reach 7 or 8 minutes. Guitar pedals get a good workout through 11 tracks that show off a range of influences. Ideally you’d get the impression of lots of loose cleverness. Instead it seems aimless.

One for the playlist: ‘Destroyed Chords’

12. Episode II: The Force Between Us, by Black Comet

Smoother, slower funk than the space-infused Episode I. More soul, and more syrup too as a classy group covers a lot of ground. Serious moments pay tribute to young mothers and dead friends. Feel-good tracks take you back to a 70s dance floor.

One for the playlist: ‘Lightning Cracking’

13. Old People Are Revolting, by Bladymaniac

There was always going to be one clanger. Bladymaniac wants to tell it like it is, have a few laughs, and hopefully offend a few people along the way. Get that right, and it won’t matter that you’re not exactly a great musician. But the targets are obvious – ads are bad, drinking is fun, global warming alarmists are over the top – and the “it’s a joke, mate” defence works only if you’re funny.

One for the playlist: ‘Am I OK’

14. PRIMARY, by Emily C. Browning

Our first dose of out-and-out pop hits hard on the opening title track, and your head will keep nodding all the way through to the halfway point, a genuinely lovely 99-second interlude called ‘Fruit’. It feels like Browning is just taking a quick breath, but in fact she’s shifting to a quieter gear for the remainder. Radio-ready range.

One for the playlist: ‘Primary’

15. Feast, by Danica Bryant

We’re staying pop for Danica Bryant whose self-awareness, tinged with cynicism, makes for a very assured debut album. There are brains behind the glittery makeup. ‘Burlesque Witch’ and ‘Narcissist’ address her inner pop star, and suggest that other ambitions might be better. Some of Feast is made for the club, some of it leans more indie. It’ll be interesting to see which path Bryant picks. 

One for the playlist: ‘Narcissist’

16. Can’t Even, by Bub

Bar rock with strong vocals from Priya Sami, and some fantastic backing and harmonies thrown in too. A repeated chorus of “fuck yoooou” never sounded so good. Also standing out: retro, space age keyboards. Pew pew. Sami sings of boy troubles, friends who get too drunk at parties, and a very specific, longlasting celebrity crush (‘Mrs Casablancas’).

One for the playlist: ‘Another Girl’

17. Movement, by Harry Charles

Eclectic and well assembled, Movement explains itself through a vocal sample about the way each movement of an orchestral symphony moves its listeners, literally and figuratively, in a different way. Charles brings together electronica—some danceable, some contemplative—guitar ballads and funky hip hop into a work of art that I wanted to immediately put on repeat.

One for the playlist: ‘Smoke & Dust’ (feat. Senzu)   

18. Boxing, by Ben Chavasse

An engaging and mature blend of folk, rock and jazz. Chavasse writes songs for thinking to, and tailors a different ensemble for each (thoroughly credited on Bandcamp). Slide guitar, violin, various saxophones, cello and double bass combine in different, deliberate ways. His smart lyricism makes each song a story with few easy rhymes or cliches. High quality stuff.

One for the playlist: ‘Pip Dog’

19. Coast Arcade, by Coast Arcade

Hard, sometimes only hardish, rock from a young band with a sound that could have come from any of the post-grunge years. They know what they’re going for – a little bit indie, a little less metal – and they do it well. Out front Bella Bavin’s vocals and Arlo Birss’ guitar both get time to shine. From a Taite point of view, the “originality” box can’t be ticked, but that’s not the point of this album.

One for the playlist: ‘Greener’

20. Certain Death, by Elliott Dawson

Atmospheric, loud-quiet-loud jazz rock offset by a well-trained voice and a brass section that thickens already-dense arrangements. Engaging as. My wife dismissed the crescendos as “too bangy”, so I stopped asking for her opinion. Dawson has a new fan, and repeated listening will pay off. I’ll be back.

One for the playlist: ‘Going Nowhere’

21. Blue Irises in Hologram, by Brandon De La Cruz

A short, quiet and very pleasant listen. Eight songs whip by in 18 minutes. Whispered vocals and acoustic guitar are the centre. They’re augmented by theremin, Hawaiian slide guitar, and little touches of choppy, sampley production. Arty and interesting.

One for the playlist: ‘Every Little Boy in Auckland’

22. Dream, Believe, Achieve, by Dick Move

A short, loud, and deeply political listen. 13 songs whip by in 25 minutes, driven by high paced drumming and Lucy Suttor’s in-your-face vocals. Production budgets have gone up, but Dick Move’s anger and energy are unchanged in this full-on party punk assault. Men and money, and especially men with money, are targets; urban workers are championed. You’ll wanna yell along to ‘Up The Bus’ (“Thank you driver!”), and to the repeated closing refrain, “Power! Tripper! Mother! Fucker!”

One for the playlist: ‘Scared Old Men’

Taites history: Finalists, 2024 (Wet)

23. Be a Little Kinder, by Dropper

Like Coast Arcade (#19), Dropper are here to work within their chosen rock genre, not to push boundaries. And, again, it’s one of those sounds that has been relevant for decades now. Their poppy, alternative punk comes with some sharp guitar solos and hints of August Is Falling.

One for the playlist: ‘Is the Worrying Working?’

24. Echomatica, by Echomatica

Echomatica’s sound is built on broad synths and slow guitars. It’s atmospheric and cinematic, a little like Explosions in the Sky without the explosions. Although song tempos vary, the energy level stays too consistent throughout this album. In a single listen I couldn’t quite pick up the source of the sameness, which detracts from some good tracks.

One for the playlist: ‘Heartbeat’

25. Ed’s Sun, by Aidan Fine

A mixtape from a genuine genreblender. If there’s a base flavour, call it psychedelic hip hop. At its more animated, we hear UMO-like electrofunk. Around the edges are tiny hints of everything from industrial to trap. Energy oscillates nicely, with a mostly upbeat front paving the way to a more laid back Side B.

One for the playlist: ‘Heatstroke’

26. Low-Key EP, by 花溪 Flowerstream

There are six tracks, so this 10 minute, 18 second wonder qualifies as a Taite album. Played on Chinese instruments with western beats and very few vocals, each sets a mood that you can only just catch before it’s over. This EP is short, sharp, and gorgeous. ‘Hua’ lasts about 80 seconds before closing on a captured studio exchange:

“That was perfect.”

“Yes.”

One for the playlist: ‘Hua’

27. Elemental, by Fly My Pretties

When Wellington was the centre of the NZ music universe, all brass and backbeats, the ever-evolving Fly My Pretties collective was its ultimate form, with charming collaborative shows that mixed ramshackle and polish. Elemental is more serious and less captivating. It’s no rehash of the old days, with Māori performers and te reo brought to the fore. Pleas for cultural unity almost flatten down to “can’t we all just get along”, and the cast are less musically inventive than you’d hope. The highest energy comes towards the end, but my attention was waning.

One for the playlist: ‘The Boldest Truth’

28. That’s Life, Baby!, by Foley

Straight from the earworm farm, Foley’s danceable pop is fun and unchallenging. Shiny songs about love, relationships and feelings all have some nice production touches. The Taite has been won from the mainstream before – in 2014 Lorde handed the prize money to the other finalists – but it’s probably the toughest lane.

One for the playlist: ‘That’s Life, Baby!’

29. How Love Bends, by Reb Fountain

One of two previous Taite Prize winners on this year’s longlist, Reb Fountain sings, “Note to self, There are no second comings” (‘Over Joy/ed’). There’s plenty of the deep, slow and poetic alt-folk that we’ve come to expect, with some welcome expansions into other territory, as on the fuzzy bass-led ‘Drake’ and the quicker ‘City’. There are layers to work through: lyrical nods to the Stone Roses and Sinéad O’Connor left me wondering what I’d missed.  

One for the playlist: ‘He Commands You to Jump Into the Sea’

Taites history: Winner, 2021 (Reb Fountain); finalist, 2022 (IRIS)

30. PIKIPIKI, by Geneva AM

Bilingual, accessible album with heart and thump. Mostly pop, but varied arrangements bring in strings and other accompaniment for Geneva AM’s great voice. The beautiful and brutal ‘Urban Planning’ describes a home where maunga and awa have been turned into airports and motorways. Yet positivity seeps out even in sad songs. ‘Meet Again’, sung to a dead friend, has a comical touch on Heaven’s dancefloor. With ‘Pōkarekare Ana’ done as rock, ‘Tūtira Mai Nga Iwi’ reformed for the dancefloor and ‘Purea Nei’ pulled into d&b territory, only seven of its 10 songs are originals. Disqualifying, but worth it.

One for the playlist: ‘Urban Planning’

31. Arts Colony, by Grecco Romank

Grecco Romank have lost their way. After the thunderous, psychosexual horror show of Wet Exit (2023), Arts Colony drops the masochism and replaces it with a blend of uninsightful politics and… observational comedy about getting to Rainbow’s End? It’s driven by flat retro-electro beats, overly long at an hour-plus, and sometimes dangerously close to being a novelty record.

One for the playlist: ‘Don’t Get Caught’ (with Princess Chelsea)

32. Little Wild Singable Songs: Play, Help, Wonder, by Claudia Robin Gunn

One of two albums of kids’ music on the list, and why not? It’s a genre that requires full commitment, and the audience is judgemental as hell. (Children, yes, but also sleep-deprived parents listening for the 500th time.) Gunn’s won national awards, and she’s a genuine musician who gives each song its own character. Once is enough for me but if you’ve got preschoolers, get in. Diggers, rainbows, bath time, all the classics.

One for the playlist: ‘The River Song’

33. The Lightning Tree, by Barry Holt

Outsider folk and a complete – and welcome – change of direction from March Of The Anorax (2024). With guitar in hand Holt, who is no perfectionist, knocks out some pleasant-enough solo ditties, plays alongside synthesised strings, and throws back as far as Sherwood Forest. 

One for the playlist: ‘Riddle Me This’

34. Kawakawa, by Huia

Huia’s pop stays light through the opening third of Kawakawa, until Baitercell’s d&b breaks hit in ‘Kākano, Seed’. Energy shifts like that are effective, since musically there’s nothing groundbreaking here. It’s sung almost entirely in te reo Māori, leaving this monoglot with nothing to say about its lyrics.

One for the playlist: ‘Ao Pō, Daynight’

35. We Lived Our Lives On Top Of This, by Lake South

This annual Taite Music review marathon is worth every hour when you find gems that you’ve overlooked til now. WLOLOTOT is about cities, suburbs and streets; leaving, arriving and being home. It’s an electronic album that far exceeds that short description, a singer-songwriter’s creation that welcomes you into their life. Here’s hoping that Taite voters are less ignorant of it than I was.

One for the playlist: ‘Long Grass, Wet Shoes’

36. Moonlight Hotel, by Tom Lark

Laidback acoustic rock with a country shuffle. No surprises are in store for anyone who remembers Taite finalist Brave Star. Things get a wee bit psychedelic in ‘Fuselage’, but otherwise Lark plays it pretty straight. There are no low points, but a mid-tempo sameness sets in towards the end.

One for the playlist: ‘Fuselage’

Taites history: Finalist, 2024 (Brave Star)

37. Mā: Matariki for Tamariki, by Loopy Tunes Preschool Music

This was in my ears while I walked among the other adults at my local mall, and it was a really weird vibe. Genuinely buzzed for Matariki now, though. It’s a pretty cool theme for a kids’ album (the songs are star-inspired so Waitī’s one is about protecting rivers, Tupuarangi’s introduces the Māori names for various fruits, and so on). I did not do the Ururangi Dance, but I kinda wanted to.

One for the playlist: ‘Ngā Whetū O Matariki’

38. Disco Witch, by LOU’ANA

Track one on Disco Witch is called ‘Disco Witch’. It’s a disco song about a witch called Disco Witch. It is seven minutes long, and not to be mistaken for track seven, ‘Disco Coven’ (or track three, ‘Disco Heart’). With its jumping bass and high strings, this album faithfully revives a genre that was never known for nuance. Admittedly the final track, ‘Aphrodite’, has a bit of modernity. It comes after two remixes of ‘Disco Witch’.

One for the playlist: ‘Roseberry Avenue’

39. The Lighthouse, by Love Square

Jazz, with a touch of funk, from a trio (and guests) who know how to have fun and share the spotlight. Entirely instrumental, with most solos on trumpet or sax, and grooves that stretch from blues to samba.

One for the playlist: ‘Cape Blues’

Taites history: Saxophonist Nick Atkinson was a finalist with Hopetoun Brown in 2017 (Look So Good).

40. Blame It On The Weather, by MĀ

MĀ is seriously talented, and I wish I’d known this album already. Scenes shift from the city to the bush, words shift from te reo Māori to English, music shifts from R&B to rap and beyond. The Taite Music Prize looks for art that entertains (or entertainment that’s art), and often goes to albums that sum up the times we’re in. With its eye on the climate crisis, Blame It On The Weather would be a deserving finalist. In the bluesy, boozy rap of ‘Miss U’, MĀ picks up Tom Scott’s (#64) old baton – another nod in the right direction.

One for the playlist (except it’s not on Spotify): ‘Mahi’

41. I Want to Rock and Roll, by Jazmine Mary

On the cover Jazmine Mary is slung back on a motorbike, stripped half naked with a cigarette hanging out of their mouth. Rock n’ roll as, but it’s a bluff. On the record they sing delicate, bluesy, dark-tinged folk. Their voice floats above the bar smoke, occasionally dropping to surprising lows. An original and careful album that feels like a contemplative late-night conversation.

One for the playlist: ‘Narcotics Anonymous Meeting’

Taites history: Winner, Best Independent Debut Award 2022 (The Licking of a Tangerine)

42. Empathy for My Future Self, by Maebh McCurdy

Literally a once-in-a-lifetime album, “dedicated with sympathy to the boy I once was, and with empathy to the woman I will be”. A transitioning McCurdy is our main character and narrator as time shifts around and perspective moves between child and adult, internal and external, male and female. Eloquent, vulgar lyrics address God, genitals, the classification of species, sex, the taking of pills and of names, and cucks. EFMFS is a crash of mashy electronica, post-punk, industrial moments, freeform sax, indie rock, guitar solos…even if it was instrumental it would still be an absolute mindtrip.

One for the playlist: ‘Comfortable?’

43. The//Glow, by Mild Orange

Airy rock soaked in echo and reverb. There’s a timelessness and, yep, even a glow to it all. Unhurried and content, The//Glow could soundtrack afternoon beers or a summer roadtrip. Similar vibes to the Phoenix Foundation and Tame Impala – high quality touchpoints indeed. ‘Drive Character’ is a triumphant closer.

One for the playlist: ‘Searching For’

44. Forest House, by Jenny Mitchell

Contemplative country from a spacious place where life isn’t always easy. Dad’s hopes are in the dirt, age slows us all down, and it’s hard to pack up and follow your dreams when you’re with a man who you love for some goddamn fool reason. Some songs feature front-porch fiddle, others are more modern and rocky. Either way it’s a gritty landscape, but there’s always hope at home. 

One for the playlist: ‘Wives Who Wait’

45. Everybody’s Watching and Nobody Cares, by Napoleon Baby!

Prickly, bluesy indie rock with something aggressive hidden under the surface. It seethes at targets external (“I don’t want to see you dance”) and internal (“I’m not a person anymore”). Double-tracked vocals near the top of Dan Jones’ range pull in the same direction as Jack White, and ‘God Damn Enthusiast’ makes great use of a Psycho Killer bassline. A dark, controlled debut.

One for the playlist: ‘Sunrise’

46. Neon Cowgirl, by Tami Neilson

A grandiose opening, all sweeping strings and thumping pianos, makes you wonder whether this Neon Cowgirl is related to a certain Rhinestone Cowboy. But Neilson soon shifts through quicker gears, hitting the dancefloor at an old-school Nashville party. And, far out, that voice! Guest stars get blown away: victims include JD McPherson and Neil Finn. Whether boogying or balladeering, she’s an absolute country queen.

One for the playlist: ‘Borrow My Boots’

Taites history: Finalist in 2015 (Dynamite!), 2019 (SASSAFRASS!), 2021 (Chickaboom!), and 2023 (Kingmaker)

47. The Noise Orchard, by The Noise Orchard

A recording collective that sounds like a country blues bar band, if not the same country blues bar band each time. The songs aren’t tied together and the cast of vocalists rarely combine, which feels like a missed trick. The brassy numbers work best and it sounds like a good time was had by all. 

One for the playlist: ‘El Toro’

48. Out of Body, by Isla Noon

We’re past the halfway point now, and Isla Noon’s pop, sometimes with indie or whispery touches, struggles to stand out. In the classic loud/quiet/loud pattern that she follows, the bigger moments are better. There are some smarter-than-average lyrics and one interestingly introverted banger.

One for the playlist: ‘I Need To Go Home’

49. Wildwood, by Ny Oh

Ny Oh ranges from country ballads to jazzier songs, none of them loud and some with a touch of Latin rhythms and guitar flourishes. A couple of tracks break the pattern: ‘Conduit’ is cool in 5/4, and the verses of ‘Bloom Baby Bloom’ are a single note chant that will stay with you. The misfits are the best bits.

One for the playlist: ‘Conduit’

50. River Dark, by Greta O’Leary

Another quiet one. A girl, a guitar, and an understated backing band thread their way from country to alt-folk. O’Leary has a sweet, clear voice and a mournful sort of love on her mind: “I’m so lucky my baby left me”. ‘Baptised At The Desktop Computer’ gets weird and wonderful results by throwing the template away and giving a starring role to a very old drum machine.

One for the playlist: ‘Baptised At The Desktop Computer’

51. While I’m Distracted, by Arjuna Oakes

T’would be easy to believe that this was a new remix album from a 60s jazz and soul singer. Classic chord progressions and solidly structured songs are made ethereal and experimental by choppy, non-linear production. Arjuna Oakes changes octaves like actors change costumes. If two songs can capture the album, ‘Lay Low’ strips away the layers and shows Oakes’ plaintive class. Then a deep headnodder, ‘Before It’s All Over’, is built around a reversed drumbeat and escalates into swirling, sampled voices and strings.

One for the playlist: ‘Before It’s All Over’

52. The Bell, the Swan & the Golden Thread, by Aridni Orca

Indira Force’s second solo album comes under a new name and with a lot of space and surreality. Its world is slightly off-kilter and dreamlike, with operatic voices, plenty of harp, staccato percussion, and layered instruments from around the world. Björk could never be copied, but she’s a definite touchstone here. Playful experiments, haunting scenes, and plenty in between.

One for the playlist: ‘Will o’ the Wisps’

53. People of The Sun, by People of The Sun

Slow-burning desert rock with indigenous influences and big ambitions. Spirits are drawn from the earth, as on the campfire chants of ‘Elders’, and the PA is blasted with deep jams (‘The Seed’) and heavy riffs (‘Sky’). But most of this album is caught in between moods and overly literal, scene-setting verses dampen the vibe. There’s something here though. Keep an eye out.

One for the playlist: ‘The Seed’

54. Aseurai, by Phoebe Rings

Crystal Choi has assembled a proficient, smooth indie jazz band, but I wonder whether Phoebe Rings is only a side project for too many of them. The backing is overly predictable and sprinkled with 80s keyboards. Choi’s voice could take you anywhere, but this feels like we’re stranded in a hotel bar.

One for the playlist: ‘Mandarin Tree’

55. Bots, by Pickle Darling

Bots’ quiet songs are assembled from fragments, like musical mosaics. Acoustic guitar, keyboards and whispery vocals are made warm and headphone-ready by studio (well, laptop in a bedroom) trickery. Lyrically, it’s about a spiraling relationship. Pickle Darling’s voice is sometimes direct, sometimes distorted and pitch-bent into different characters. Delightful earworm ‘Massive Everything’ lifts the whole album. 

One for the playlist: ‘Massive Everything’

56. Hard Road, by Merv Pinny

I’m just about to write that Pinny stays deep inside the bounds of country blues, when suddenly he slaps me with an electro-Celtic jig, complete with bonnie lasses. This is why we listen all the way through, people. Otherwise Hard Road is steadfastly American with call-and-response preaching, heaps of drinkin’, devil women, freedom and rights, and well-arranged brass that lifts some numbers up nicely.

One for the playlist: ‘Too Much White Too Much Red’

57. Powder Chutes, by Powder Chutes

Hard rock and fast riffs played with full energy. They’re raw and capable young metallers who have thoroughly researched the 90s and 80s for good influences. Every song is moshpit-ready except the obligatory acoustic closer. Clarke West’s guitar is a fully-formed highlight, surrounded by a good band with space to keep getting better.

One for the playlist: ‘Dutchies’

58. Moisturise & Decolonise, by Rei

Rei’s here to spark an indigenous revolution, and to ensure you take better care of yourself. Distinctly NZ music includes high-quality hip hop, pop, pacific reggae and even 80s disco. It brings you back to the air, the whenua, the chiefs immortalised in the stars. In spoken interludes narrator/guide Jessica Aotea keeps you primed for the fight, and stresses the importance of self-care routines. There’s pin-sharp bilingualism (take “I’m from Aotearoa / I don’t even know what a Zealand is”, or “They talk the talk, we walk the hikoi”) and an entire track designed to give Chris Bishop an aneurysm (‘Toitū’), right down to its Don McGlashan reference.

One for the playlist: ‘Haka Through the Pain’

59. Enter Now Brightness, by Nadia Reid

Nadia Reid is a three-time Taite finalist, and this is her fourth album. You do the maths. Here a deeply talented singer-songwriter looks to prove her prowess beyond alt-folk or Americana. It’s an expansion, not a complete departure. She’s joined by a full rock band for some tracks, backed by trumpets on another. A new-ish mother, her songs reevaluate life priorities with a grown-up self-assurance.

One for the playlist: ‘Hotel Santa Cruz’

Taites history: Finalist in 2016 (Listen to Formation, Look for the Signs), 2018 (Preservation), and 2021 (Out Of My Province)

60. The Lord Is My German Shepherd (Time for Walkies), by Ringlets

A seriously inventive and talented band (and also a personal favourite). You never know where Ringlets are going next, but their songs always tie together nicely. Angular and poetic, they swerve between arty post-punk, math rock, shoegaze and more – sometimes all in the same song. Technical chops, a sense of humour, and a stronger voice than 2023’s self-titled debut. Highly recommended.

One for the playlist: ‘Street Massage’

61. ACTIVATE!, by Robots in Love

Ever wanted to go headbanging at a rave? ACTIVATE!’s collision of metal riffs and electronic beats works better when frontwoman Elenor Rayner commits to the bit, putting entertainment above art. The softer, less experimental tracks get dreary. A sharper album could be excised from the full 57 minute experience.

One for the playlist: ‘The Sequel’

62. Boundary Issues, by The RVMES

A summery blend of funk, soul, reggae and rock that carries an unmistakable New Zealandness. There’s a kinetic energy to the whole thing, and it’ll feel familiar even on a first listen. Fits in more than it stands out.

One for the playlist: ‘Ecstasy’

63. Augenblick: Side A, by Sanoi

Deep ambient beats and soundscapes packaged into nine short tracks. There are organic touchpoints – is that whalesong? – and far out moments, as when a space princess explains that it’s the year 10191 and we travel not by moving, but by bending space. Side B will be out by the time you read this and the whole thing will fit on a less-than-futuristic cassette. Half a sonic adventure.

One for the playlist: ‘It Might Take Some Time’

64. ANITYA, by Tom Scott

Technically a solo debut from a singular talent with a hell of a back catalogue. Scott’s work keeps getting more autobiographical, reflecting a life neither totally straightforward nor happy. The album is personal, slow and introspective as he turns over a lot of stones and admits a lot of fault. Addressing his son: “I’m sorry that your home got broken”. To his new love: “I don’t believe in love no more”. Scott sings more than ever, but remains a phenomenal rapper. Ironically ANITYA is an open book without many ways in for the uninitiated. This one’s for him, for the longtime listeners, for his family.

One for the playlist: ‘probably me’

Taites history: Winner, 2019 (with Avantdale Bowling Club); finalist with Home Brew (2013 & 2024) and @peace (2013, 2014 & 2015)

65. Traces, by Rhian Sheehan & Arli Liberman

It’s a pity that this came so soon after Sanoi, because it’ll sound unoriginal when I use the phrase “ambient soundscapes”. But, verily, it is what it is. Sounds that grow and shrink in no rush, the music of breathing slowly, slipping into dreams. Carefully assembled, but unlikely to be a Taite contender.

One for the playlist: ‘Immaru’

66. Corridors of Light, by Silk Cut

Bright rock from a band that makes something relatively original from a standard template – two guitars, major chords, verse-chorus-verse. Slightly jangly with vocals forward in the mix and some lovely harmonies. Touches of Britpop, or Apples in Stereo with less of a 60s swing. The first half hits harder; the second lacks variety until they happily turn up the amps for the last two minutes. More of that, please.

One for the playlist: ‘Good Morning’

67. Life Advice, by Soft Bait

Post-punk band Soft Bait revolves around vocalist Joshua Hunter, who owns every minute of Life Advice. More yelling than singing, his lyrics twist cliches and conversational tics into something cynical and confronting, while frantic energy feeds in from clattering guitars and thumping bass grooves. Take ‘Safe As Houses’, where classic kiwi housing market chatter becomes a thoroughly engrossing attack on your neighbourhood. It’s great stuff.

One for the playlist: ‘TNT’

68. New Tomorrows, by Sola Rosa

Less extroverted than you might expect from Sola Rosa, New Tomorrows comprises three R&B grooves sung by AKOSIA, three jazzier jams with Lewis McCallum, and a couple of slower numbers with Joe Probert. It’s a loungy, late night after party with more rhythm than soul.

One for the playlist: ‘New Tomorrows’

69. Electric Love, by Sounds Escape

Slow-to-medium instrumental rock is very hard to do without it sounding like something’s missing. Logan Wedgwood must enjoy hard mode, because he takes on that challenge fully DIY, writing and recording everything himself. It’s no insult to say that he’s no guitar virtuoso, which cuts down on melodic possibilities. Built around chord progressions and arpeggios, these sound like backing tracks.

One for the playlist: ‘The Dark Side of Melody’

70. Good Woman, by Michaela Tempers

Artistic folk musician with a vibratous voice. Six songs with a serious veneer and playful undertones. Drums repeatedly gate-crash the title track, changing its tempo and time signature. ‘Nothing To Lose’ starts as a ukulele number, but by its end is all sweeping piano and classical strings. Cleverly surprising.

One for the playlist: ‘Good Woman’

71. Girl, In A Savage World, by Theia

High and breathy, with a childlike innocence, Theia’s voice belies the seriousness of this short album. It gives her songs the air of fairy tales, but they’re much more Grimm than Disney, stalked by the underlying evil of colonisation. In ‘Patupaiarehe’, a white-as-snow girl with blue eyes has her land stolen for 1000 years. The 3/4 beat of ‘BALDH3AD!’ recalls the music of a merry-go-round, then of Ka Mate. ‘Bury Ur Children’ only needs 44 seconds to make its point. Discomforting, utterly singular, and so very good.

One for the playlist: ‘Hoki Whenua Mai (Return the Land)’

Taites history: Winner, Best Independent Debut Award 2023 (as TE KAAHU, for Te Kaahu O Rangi)

72. Blush, by There’s A Tuesday

Indie rockers of a controlled, mid-tempo sort. Dual vocalists Nat Hutton & Minnie Robberds fit together very well and songs are carefully constructed to show off their harmonies. The Beths-like Silver Scroll nominee ‘Margo’ stands out.

One for the playlist: ‘Margo’

73. Heritage Trail 2 – The Partnership, by Tipene

Activist Māori hip hop with a number of guests and some very well selected samples of speeches from Kīngi Tūheitia, Hone Harawira, Moana Jackson, and Hana-Rāwhiti Maipi-Clarke, among others. It’s an uplifting and uniting album, staunch in its pride and politics, and clear about the work to be done together. In Taite terms, Tipene shares a lane with at least two more inventive acts, Theia (#70) and Rei (#58).

One for the playlist: ‘Pepeha’

74. Take Control, by Vanessa Tottle

An amateur passion project inspired by early trip hop. Songs are hook-free, based on one or two loops and a trebly drum machine – Blue Lines on a tight budget. It’s a thin sound and Tottle’s voice doesn’t rise above.

One for the playlist: ‘Phoenix Rising’

75. Love, Loyalty, Respect, by Triggar Happy

Had to double-check this, because there’s not a note of New Zealand in its deeply American country rock. Regan Tucker is highway driving with the radio on, he’s raising a glass to old timers, he’s bootstomping with his darling. There’s grit in his voice and plenty of blues in his guitar. Not groundbreaking but definitely enjoyable. Oh, and look up Triggar Happy’s unlikely story of local chart success.

One for the playlist: ‘TAP TAP’

76. 2000: The Beginning of a New Era, by Vic Vega

Gangsta rap from an autistic 20-something. All the cliches are here, especially tough days growing up (“I remember PE and social studies / I remember getting hated by all the hunnies”). There’s an occasional flash-forward to his “famous rap superstar” future but the redemption arc lacks a middle. Ghettos, guns and violence flash by in rhyming couplets: “I’m tired of losing friends and the people I care about / I lost too many friends that I don’t even know their whereabouts”.

One for the playlist: ‘The World Is Fake’

77. Heavy Machinery, by Velveteen

Metal that comes with an aggressive solidity at times, balanced by more accessible tracks. Jai Oakley has an ear for a good melody and plenty of energy. The lyrical angst suits the musical mood. Another rock entry that has roots in the mid-90s without sounding dated.

One for the playlist: ‘Hypertrophic’

78. Pocket Clocks, by Hannah Virk

A true oddity in which simple instruments chop their way around stream-of-consciousness lyrics. Imagine you’re seven years old and the weird kid from school invites you over. Most of their toys are broken, but they have a ukulele and an old keyboard with preset beats. There’s no time to rehearse, so you make the best of a bad situation.

One for the playlist: ‘Modern Folk’

79. Something Good Is Happening, by Voom

A mere 19 years after the last Voom album, SGIH picks up right where they left off. It’s another mix of fuzzy songs pulled together from solo home recordings and more complete band sessions. No pretense, probably not many rehearsals, just lo-fi indie rock done very well. There’s structure and heart under its tumbledown exterior: a deceptive number of genuine love songs, all joyful in different ways.

One for the playlist: ‘Trouble’

80. Cowboy Practice, by Sig Wilder & Friends

Quiet country from an American New Zealander (and friends). It’s fuller than a campfire sound but scarcely louder, with subtle piano and harmonica amongst Wilder’s carefully arranged ballads. He sings of the boundless outdoors and the small lives of characters who inhabit it. It could be a simple life, but for human complications. 

One for the playlist: ‘Birmingham, Al’

81. Te Whare Tīwekaweka, by Marlon Williams

At only 35, Williams is an elder-statesman-in-waiting of Aotearoa music. On Te Whare Tīwekaweka, sung entirely in te reo Māori, he blends contemporary touches into a range of musical traditions. There are serious show ballads, schoolyard kapa haka, country tunes, gorgeous waiata, and a bit of the old Māori strum. New songs meet familiar sounds, complete with special guest stars (Lorde!). I liked it but, monolingualism being what it is, I literally didn’t know what I was listening to. Any Māori speakers who want to join me for 2027’s Taite Music Prize reviews, please hit me up.

One for the playlist: ‘Aua Atu Rā’

Taites history: Finalist in 2016 (Marlon Williams), 2019 (Make Way For Love), and 2023 (My Boy)

82. One Is Always Heading Somewhere, by Womb

Slow, considered work by a band that exists mostly to create dream-like settings for Cello Forrester’s high and whispery vocals. Pleasant and moody, but mostly the same mood. The opening and closing tracks cleverly reflect each other, while the ghostly ‘Interlude 2’ breaks things up and makes one wonder what happened to ‘Interlude 1’.

One for the playlist: ‘One Is Always Heading Somewhere’

83. Slow Crush, by Alisa Xayalith

Ten months old and almost every song has hundreds of thousands of Spotify streams. Unimaginable numbers for many in this list, but they look small for Xayalith’s solo debut. She is guaranteed an audience, but they’ll bring heavy expectations after her Naked and Famous past. To be the voice of ‘Young Blood’ (342 million streams, 2010 Silver Scroll, etc etc) is a debilitating privilege. Unsurprisingly the electropop of Slow Crush is less pacey and more mature than TN&F. Songs are openly romantic, soaked in heartbreak and hope. The voice of a pop star, the story of a woman who’s figuring some stuff out.

One for the playlist: ‘What The Hell Do We Do Now?’

Taites history: Finalist, 2011, with The Naked and Famous (Passive Me, Aggressive You)

Now headphones off, and exhale.

It’s my third year doing this, and this is the longest list yet. Most music industry news seems to be doom and gloom these days, but the creators keep creating. To every single one of them: you’re awesome.

If there are any trends to pick out this year, they’re not too different to 2025. We’re lucky to have so many musicians who value creativity over perfect formulas. Country is still cool. Today’s young rock fans are at huge risk of listening to music that their parents would recognise. Te reo Māori is an ever bigger part of what we’re making and listening to these days, as it should be. I’ve had a great time.

And now to predictions, which I hate. According to my scrawled notes, there are 20 albums that I reckoned would make the shortlist (of 10) on Tuesday. My own personal top ten is even longer. So, after a short, brutal moment with a red pen, my 10 personal votes go to:

• Alien Weaponry
• Beastwars
• Elliot Dawson
• Dick Move
• Lake South
• MĀ
• Napoleon Baby!
• Pickle Darling
• Ringlets
• Soft Bait
• Theia

Yes, I know there’s eleven of them and no, I’m not going to fix it. Anyway, my predicted actual Taite shortlist for 2026 is:

• Beastwars
• Dick Move
• Reb Fountain
• Maebh McCurdy
• Tami Neilson
• Arjuna Oakes
• Greta O’Leary
• Nadia Reid
• Tom Scott
• Marlon Williams

If that’s half right, I’ll take it as a win. Speaking of winning, the Taite Music Prize will be awarded in April. Plenty of time for you to make your way through the playlist and find a sonic treasure that you wouldn’t have discovered any other way.