Interview with Mark Hamilton, bassist from Ash

As Ash prepare to return to New Zealand next week as part of their 1977 30th anniversary tour, bassist Mark Hamilton got on the line with Paddy McCann to reflect on the band’s origins and the intervening decades since the release of 1977.

“I know we sound the same,” says Paddy, “but I’m actually in Wellington. I’m not just sitting in Ireland pretending.” Hearing them talk, you’d be forgiven for thinking he might be. Paddy grew up in Belfast, about an hour’s drive to Downpatrick in Northern Ireland, where Ash formed. For him, talking to Mark is a bit of a dream come true. “It’s awesome to have a chat with someone whose music I’ve grown up with,” he says. “1977 was one of the first CDs I actually owned. I think I wore it out!”

Paddy mentions discovering the infamous hidden track at the end of the album, “Sick Party”, which features all kinds of random audio of the lads in the studio, including someone vomiting. Paddy had it playing at the restaurant he’d been working at, and everyone was a bit startled when the track came on. “It was just us “messing around in the studio”, really,” Mark grins, “I think we were waiting for Tim to finish writing lyrics. I think a lot of people got caught out like that with “Sick Party””

1977 was actually released in 1996, and Ash are currently on a 30th anniversary tour. They have upcoming dates in Australia, New Zealand, Japan, Singapore, and Hong Kong, before returning to the UK for more shows later this year. “What does it mean to still be taking that album around the world?” asks Paddy.

“Every time we get asked to come back, it’s like a total honour,” says Mark. “And we’ve got friends in New Zealand as well, so it’s always good fun. We love the Kiwi sense of humour.” He mentions the long flights and jet lag that are promised with a trip to the other side of the world, but remarks that, by doing the Aussie shows first, the band are “pretty all right” by the time they get to NZ.

Ash formed in 1992 as a three-piece band, with Tim Wheeler on lead vocals and guitar, Mark Hamilton on bass, and Rick McMurray on drums. Aside from the success of 1977 itself, it’s pretty impressive that these three have stayed together all this time. The very same trio who originally recorded the album are still playing together, touring these 30th anniversary shows in 2026.

“What’s the trick?” asks Paddy. “I play music, and I can’t be in a band with anybody without someone falling out.” “I think that’s really the key thing,” says Mark. “Egos or personalities can clash, but Tim and I met when we were 12 years old. We were just children, and we grew up as friends… You become almost like brothers, you know so much about each other.”

It was really only a few years after meeting as kids that the two formed Ash with Rick McMurray, and the rest is history. When Paddy asks if Mark had always intended to play bass, he replies “the concept of the band was first, rather than actually me or Tim having instruments. It sounds ridiculous, but the dream was always to be rock stars of some sort.” Mark references the 1989 comedy film Bill and Ted. “It was really inspiring. We were thinking, “oh yeah, just a couple of guys can change the world.” We came up with the concept of a band before any of us had instruments.”

“There were other guys from school who were going to be in the band, and I was originally going to be on the keyboard. Then the guy who was going to be bassist quit the band before it even existed.” (I bet that guy lies awake at night…) “It became a question of which was more important, keyboard or bass. Then Tim said to me: “you get the bass then.” I was like, “all right.””

Tim and Mark asked Santa for guitars that Christmas. “We thought we were taking the piss because guitars were expensive. But there were mail-order guitars for around 90 quid, and we managed to convince our parents. It was Christmas Day or Boxing Day and we got together. On our first try, we couldn’t play. We just didn’t know what we were doing. It was like, “What are we going to do now?” There was no YouTube you could look up. We started working it out ourselves – if you played the same number on the fretboard, it would sound the same. We just started writing songs, like, on day one. It was only bass and guitar playing, so it sounded ridiculous. We have recordings of those early songs, and they’re hilarious. We had these little two-watt amps powered by nine-volt batteries. They were quiet, little starter amps, and the batteries ran out after like half an hour. We were just playing the same notes over and over, really simple little riffs, but it got us in the mindset of writing our own music, which was really important.”

“I saw you play in Wellington in 2024, at San Fran.” says Paddy. “I noticed you were playing with a three-string bass. Is that something you’ve done for a long time?”

“That goes back to the early days as well. In Downpatrick, there was one shop that sold guitar strings. They sold CDs, sheet music, and bits and pieces; but they only sold bass strings in full sets. You couldn’t buy individual strings. When you’re 13 or 14, the G string is the thinnest string, and it breaks first. It was 20 quid to get a new set of bass strings. When you’re young, it’s just too much money to be changing the G string every time. So, I just left it off and started playing without it. I didn’t use it, so I just didn’t need it. Then it just stuck.”

As for the band’s longevity, Mark says it’s like “a vindication.” “We’ve been plugging away, it’s nice to see things rise again. The last few albums went Top 15 in the UK after maybe a decade of not charting at all. A lot of people say, “you’re that band from the ‘90s or early ‘00s, what have you been doing since?” But we’ve been putting out albums and touring ever since. It’s nice to see the uptake again.”

“Ash songs have turned up in some unexpected places, too,” says Paddy. “I was playing Burnout on Xbox and heard you guys. What are your favourite incidences of coming across your music?”

Mark lists off an impressive resume. A bunch of computer games (including the third Gran Turismo and an NHL hockey game), a Jackie Chan movie called Rumble in the Bronx, and the titular song (“A Life Less Ordinary”) for a Danny Boyle film starring Ewan McGregor and Cameron Diaz. “”Orpheus” was on the Shaun of the Dead soundtrack. “Meltdown” as well. A fan sent us an edit of “Orpheus” in Shaun of the Dead and it was a brilliant video, but it was just a random thing where I was like “oh, I forgot we were in that movie.””

In Ireland, “Uncle Pat” was used in a Heineken ad. “You could not escape that advert whenever it was running,” says Mark. “It may not be a song that everyone outside Ireland knows, but everyone in Ireland seems to know it because of that advert.”

“I think you played it when you were here last time,” says Paddy. “There were a lot of people calling for it, it may have been an encore.”

ASH 1977 – 30th Anniversary Australian/NZ Tour Dates:

Australia:

Friday 4th September PERTH, Rosemount Hotel
Saturday 5th September FREMANTLE, Fre.Social
Tuesday 8th September ADELAIDE, Lion Arts Factory
Thursday 10th September BRISBANE, The Tivoli
Friday 11th September MELBOURNE, Northcote Theatre
Saturday 12th September SYDNEY, Metro Theatre

NZ:

Monday 14th September AUCKLAND, Tuning Fork
Tuesday 15th September WELLINGTON, San Fran

NZ Tickets On Sale Now From: https://metropolistouring.com/newzealand/ash/

Paddy McCann is an Irish singer-songwriter who’s lived in Wellington for years. You can often catch him playing at Gibbons Hotel on Taranaki Street. He’s also the frontman of blues rock band Aegir and Ran, who play occasionally but have been abandoned by their bassist (one that plays four strings). You can find his music and more information about his appearances on his Instagram, @paddy_mc_cann.

Interview by Paddy McCann

Live Review: The Wellington Sea Shanty Society at Breaker Bay Hall, Wellington

The Wellington Sea Shanty Society

Breaker Bay Hall, Wellington

Friday 31 July 2026

I met my friend Vorn about sixteen years ago. We both worked for Tranz Metro, the commuter rail network in Wellington. Our job involved selling and clipping tickets on the trains. Many of the staff had worked there for decades – much longer than I’d even been alive. So Vorn and I were both among the “young” staff, even though he has about ten years on me. I don’t remember the exact circumstances of meeting him, but I do remember that Donna from the pay office shared that he was a musician, and not long after he sold me three CDs of his eponymous band. [My reviews of his most recent albums: The Winter Session, The Late Album]

We became friends and I remember him recruiting me to film him for a DIY music video. A few months later he asked me to drum for a gig he’d organised for the adult guitar class he’d been teaching. I was just a teenager, fairly fresh out of school, and finding my footing in the world. It meant so much to me – that a real musician would ask me to contribute to some of his projects – and it gave me a big confidence boost.

Vorn on accordion

Vorn has always been iconic. He used to rock these huge red bejeweled sunglasses that clashed with our navy blue uniform. He was frequently seen biking around town in his fluro yellow Tranz Metro issue jacket, and busking on the waterfront, playing Jimi Hendrix covers on accordion. Vorn is a lovable enigma, perpetually true to himself. [See also, this great Audioculture article about Vorn, written by Michael Hollywood]

The first time I saw The Wellington Sea Shanty Society was at a bar called Mighty Mighty in 2013. I was there to see legendary Japanese rockers Guitar Wolf, and WSSS were playing at the other end of the room while the stage was being set. I remember thinking that it was a novel, fun concept. Most of the songs were reasonably well known, and invited audience singalong and participation.

WSSS was actually Lake’s project. Known for his groups Lake South and Urbantramper, Lake had befriended the French shanty crew Croche Dedans during his travels in France and transplanted the idea back in NZ. It made a lot of sense in this setting, a country settled by seafaring navigators and sailors, and populated by many whalers when first being colonised by Europeans. Lake asked Vorn to collaborate with him, and WSSS was born. WSSS’ third album, Ahoy!, is a collaboration with Croche Dedans, and Lake and Vorn have toured France a few times with them. [I should also share the most recent Croche Dedans album, Glou].

Lake

I remember seeing this video on the Croche Dedans Facebook page. The song was incredible, compelling and meditative, with gorgeous bones that could be fleshed out. I took it to some friends who I was starting a band with and we all agreed to cover it with a blues rock feel. It’s a shame we never properly recorded it, because it was easily our best song.

The first Breaker Bay Shanty event I remember took place in 2020. To me, this is when WSSS ascended from busking status to something more. It wasn’t just two guys playing singalongs on guitar and accordion, it was now an event, with a full band. Thomas (violin) and Nick (drums) from the Vorn band helped flesh out the sound, and MC extraordinaire Louis Tait helped set the scene with his poetic nautical monologues – a thespian possessed by the spirit of Herman Melville.

The setting was perfect. The backdrop of the stage features a beautiful painting of the bay. [You may also recognise it from this The Beths video]. The venue is right on the shore. Everyone had songbooks for singing along – think hymn missals from church, but more scurvy than spiritual.

I wasn’t exactly on my best behaviour. I’d consumed too much rum before the gig – to get into the spirit of things… Lake still uses footage from that night when making promo material for the band, and almost always uses a clip of me drunkenly staring into the camera, whilst wearing a pirate hat.

There was an obnoxious reporter from a current events show who hijacked the evening to get footage for a segment on her show, but once she and the camera crew had left, it was a fantastic night. Easily the best night of the year, and an exciting fixture in the calendar every time the lads book another show there.

I wrote @winstonpeters a campaign jingle and sang from the heart. Thus achieving my political and sea shanty dreams in one song @NZFirst you’re welcome ™️ pic.twitter.com/87TA8eNRwz

— Olivia Caldwell (@OcCaldwell) August 7, 2020

This was a year or two before “Wellerman” blew up on TikTok, and became the viral song that permeates pop culture now. It’s a genuine whaling-era song from Aotearoa that Lake and Vorn had discovered it in some ancient songbooks. I do remember it being a real highlight at WSSS gigs along with “Drunken Sailor”, long before virality struck. Somehow a postman in Scotland discovered this obscure old song from Aotearoa, and a video of him singing it struck a chord that resonated with people to the point that the song has been appropriated the world over. Even The Wiggles now do a version of it. Wellington Sea Shanty Society had two recorded versions of “Wellerman” before the song blew up, and those two songs currently have over three million streams on Spotify between them.

I’ve been coming to Shanty gigs at Breaker Bay Hall since 2020 now. So do they ever feel stale? Not at all. The setlists change over time, although firm favourites usually remain constant. They’ve just released a new EP, Never Mind the Rowlocks (with album art styled to imitate The Sex Pistols’ Never Mind the Bollocks), so have a few new songs to add to the repertoire.

It sounds like the tour to date has been a total blast. The band played a low key pop-up gig on Leftbank in Wellington the night of the EP release. They’ve sold out a lot of their shows on the tour. In Auckland they played a live-to-air for bFM, and featured as the musical guests on televised comedy show 7 Days.

The EP release pop up gig on Leftbank

As we arrive in Breaker Bay, the locale gives a taste of the night to come. It’s a surprisingly calm day, so there is a distinct lack of waves crashing on the rocks nearby. But it’s certainly right on the shore. The air is lightly scented with seaweed. Thankfully that’s about the only smells we get whiffs of – the local sewage treatment plant has been infamous for mishaps all year, with no set resolution in sight for a long time yet.

It’s always interesting to see who shows up to these gigs. We see lots of pirates and sailors, as well as a squid. And stripes. So many stripes. It’s enough to get a zebra hot and bothered.

Dressing up is highly recommended. I won best dressed one year for a sexy mermaid outfit I’d made (complete with wig, shell earrings, and shiny scaled tail/skirt). My best friend Craig won the following year by wearing The Titanic.

You can tell that a lot of people popped into the local Look Sharp shop to get a suitable accessory – think plastic pistols and sailor caps. We see some people waving cutlasses in the air. But some people really put the effort in, and their outfits are quite impressive. Long leather boots, velvet shirts, corsets and waistcoats. And as the saying goes, you get out of it, what you put in. Those who dress up, sing, dance, and embrace the spirit of the night, have the best time. This is not a passive experience.

My mate Paddy had been up late the night before using a hot glue gun to attach trimmings and gold buttons to his blazer, and had pinned a soft toy kookaburra to his epaulette as a stand in for a parrot. The winning outfit of the night was a siren, with shiny tail, blue face makeup and trident. Well deserved.

I don’t want to share too much, lest I spoil the show for any yet uninitiated seafarers. There’s a lot of crowd interaction. Captain Louis, master of ceremony, welcomes us in with his welcoming address. He provides context for the night – touching on the band’s recent album, explaining what a rowlock is, and casting a spell that summoned seabirds and cephalopods into the hall.

And then the band begins. They start with a new original punk shanty. Thomas on the fiddle is that star in that one. Lake and Vorn share lead vocal duties, playing guitar and accordion, respectively. Nick is trialing his new compact pancake drum set, which sounds good despite lacking the depth or resonance of your standard drums.

The set list is varied. The new stuff is more punk themed. One was written in the vein of the much maligned ‘stomp clap hey’ genre of the 2010s. There are authentic olde tyme shanties – some true to form, some with updated lyrics. Lots of WSSS written originals. Shanties sung in Spanish and French. Contemporary covers with nautical themes (“Anchor Me”, “Whaling”), as well as ones that have been reworked to become nautical. I like the songs that are a bit more boisterous and involve punctuating the singing with the odd “HEY!” and “HOORAH!” and the like. There’s so many shouts of “Ho!” throughout the night that we could be at home in a 1990’s rap video.

Louis returns throughout the night to lead games and challenges. It’s a cold, windy night and we’re on the coast. But here, inside the hall, everyone is grinning and breathless and sweaty from all the singing and dancing. It’s frantic and silly and loud. Louis adds a lot to the night, making the evening an experience, more than just a band playing some songs on the stage. He casts quite the figure, with his wild, teased hair, and his poetic addresses. It’s probably a difficult balance, inspiring interactions, mutiny and shenanigans, fending off the heckles, and keeping the evening going roughly to script. As usual, it’s mostly my friends misbehaving. Louis takes it in his stride. We have an awful lot of fun.

Louis at the pop up gig

It’s election year, and WSSS are a political band. It’s not always super on-the-nose, but these are musicians who believe in worker’s rights. Lake used to have a bumper sticker saying “Back the Teachers” on his guitar. They penned the song “We’re Not In London Now (Sam Parnell’s Law)”, about Sam Parnell, who is credited with establishing the 8 hour working day in NZ. And now, the lead single from their new EP is entitled “I Struck for Better Wages“, a rousing number that takes lyrics from 1893 and couples them with music that draws heavily from Dropkick Murphys’ sound with a punk feeling and fiddle.

And I think that in an era of divisiveness and distraction, sometimes it’s salient to come together in a room full of strangers, and celebrate community and creativity and the arts and things that are important. Some of these songs are from the 1800s, and some were written this year. Some are heartbroken and homesick. Some are full of excitement and adventure. But these songs, these shanties – they have the power to bring people together to truly live for a night.

Nick

Words and photos by Joseph James.

Album Review: Man Mountain – Threads of Another Life

The main thing that you need to know about Man Mountain is that they are on the lifelong quest for Toan. Toan is everything to them. I spent some time with the guys last July and we stopped in at Sweetwater – the biggest music shop in the world – and spent hours there. All in the pursuit of that sweet, sweet Toan. Jacob (drums) used a different snare on every track on this new album, so clearly he’s on that Toan journey. David (bass) even named his business after it: Detroit Tube & Tone.

Jokes aside, Man Mountain put a lot of energy into meticulously crafting their sound. I said as much when I was reviewing their first album, Infinity Mirror. Things have been pretty quiet for a while. The covid pandemic halted a lot of things, and Man Mountain went to ground, quietly writing and recording when live gigs needed to be paused. That break took a bit longer than they expected, but they’re returning to the stage again and building momentum along with the album rollout.

I’m blessed to be friends with the guys in Man Mountain, and have seen them play a handful of times on the two American tours I’ve done with Ranges (2017, and 2025). Admittedly, I can get pretty moody when on tour (probably when not on tour as well…). The late nights, long drives, lack of personal space and fast food diet all take their toll on the body. And then I was also drinking a fair bit on that first tour as well. But the guys of Man Mountain were never short of super hospitable – very fun, generous and genuine guys. I think Mid-Westerners are known for it. They took me back to Michigan with them for a few days at the end of my American trip last year and that was easily the highlight of my trip. They’re solid dudes with big hearts.

I don’t have synesthesia, but I can’t help but visualise warm yellow light when I picture their music. In 2017 they had a work light rigged up with a foot switch, that they’d stomp on during the big moments of their songs to add visual dynamics to their set. It was simple, but very effective. They had to retire that after too many people complained about being blinded by it, which I find hilarious. I think they had a few stories about how it was enough to blow fuse boards at venues they were playing too, stopping the gig mid-set as all the electricity goes out.

On the 2025 tour, they had beautiful Edison lamps onstage with them, adding a really nice homely feel to their set. And last time I saw them play, at Spacebar in Columbus, OH, the venue had a bunch of Edison bulbs as well. I think that warm glow complements their aesthetic so well. This is the visual I conjure up when I think of them so I’m pleased to see that the album art follows this thinking. The cover features streetlights snaking along a winding road, and one vinyl variant is actual called Streetlight. Clearly the artist derived the same ideas I did from the music, and encapsulated that feeling so well within the art.

Here are photos from the first and last time I saw Man Mountain play, showing those stage lights in action:

Man Mountain at W. Cross Station in Ypsilanti, October 2017

Man Mountain at Spacebar in Columbus, OH, July 2025

I’ve been listening to this album for a year now. Jacob sent me the tracks to listen to well before they’d finalised things like album art. And I’d always derived that feeling of light in the darkness from the music. I’d never actually discussed the themes or inspirations of the album with the guys, but I just read the press release, and it makes total sense.

“While we didn’t start out with a central theme, it quickly became apparent as we assembled the full collection of songs for this album that each track was inspired by a particular stage of the pandemic,” explains guitarist Mike Reaume. “The names were chosen later to hint at the various stages, but it basically follows our journey from the hopeful and inspired beginnings, through the in-between phase where we felt like everything was sort of stuck in a timeless limbo.”

That tracks completely. This music is hopeful, yearning. It’s dreamy. But it’s also rooted in something heavier.

Listening to this album is like swimming. There’s always that touch of weightlessness, like floating in a warm body of water on a nice day. There are times when you think about the unknowable creatures that may lurk in the depths below, and sometimes a small wave may push you around a bit, but for the most part it’s just a wonderfully serene time.

This may be a redundant statement by virtue of applying to almost all music anyway, but I want to stress that you will be richly rewarded if you listen to Threads of Another Life through quality speakers or headphones. Sometimes I’m just pottering around the house doing chores, and I may have the album playing on a bluetooth speaker and it sounds good. But then plugging it into something a bit better, like the speakers I have hooked up to an amp, really brings the music to life. Jacob and David do a wonderous job of holding down the bottom end, keeping it grounded. And Mike and Bryan bring us to celestial peaks. They really cover the sonic spectrum well. The crisp cymbals, the warm swells, the deep bass – they really come to life with full dynamics. These guys are toanhunters, and you’ve got to respect their quest.

I’ve been listening to this album for a year. Without album art, without knowing the title. Just the music. Great music. And then I finally learnt the the name of the album – Threads of Another Life – and I was surprised to see this fact in the press kit:

The album’s title takes inspiration from The Lord of the Rings, referencing Frodo Baggins’ reflection: “How do you pick up the threads of an old life?”

Then I realise: I have a subtle connection to the album’s title. I was bestowed the nickname Baggins on that first tour – probably because Lord of the Rings was famously filmed in New Zealand. And the album is named after a Baggins quote. Please stop – my ego can only get so big. But jokes aside, the title obviously works, considering how the music is a reflection on how the pandemic altered the world. And I also love that it’s a reference to a fantastical adventure. It seems very fitting.

Man Mountain playing Gold Sounds in Brooklyn, NY

My bias is clearly showing. These guys are my friends, and I’ve shared some great experiences with them. NZ is such a small country, with a tiny population, that going on tour as a band just isn’t very viable here for the most part. So touring with bands in America always feels like a wild dream, a big adventure. Touring can be incredibly mundane, comprising mostly of long drives and gas stations pit stops. But there was always a sense of surrealism too – even the boring parts were a bit exciting because it’s just so different from New Zealand. We don’t have as many late night pizza joints, that’s for sure! Going through experiences like that can help forge incredibly strong bonds.

I feel a bit silly, reviewing an album without touching on the music much. To me, this album sounds like friendship. It evokes a warm, homely glow; a reassuring light in dark times. This album encapsulates the vibes of midwestern hospitality, of authenticity and integrity. There is true craftmanship in these compositions. It’s a grand, masterful album and I cannot do it justice by trying to describe it. Do yourself a favour and listen to it for yourselves.

Man Mountain and Ranges USA 2025 tour group. Taken the last night of tour.

Man Mountain links:

Linktree: https://linktr.ee/manmountain

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ManMountainMusic/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/man_mountain

Bandcamp: https://manmountain.bandcamp.com/album/threads-of-another-life

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/0uUvYGzaUPfXECtMVvWHxS

Apple music: https://music.apple.com/us/artist/man-mountain/940303802

Threads of Another Life pre-orders:

USA orders through Spartan Records: https://spartanrecords.com/collections/manmountain

UK orders through Devil Dog Distro: https://devildogdistro.com/products/man-mountain-threads-of-another-life-lp?variant=56627910214018

European orders through Thirty Something Records: https://thirtysomethingrecords.com/collections/pre-order/products/man-mountain-threads-of-another-life-lp

Man Mountain playing O’Briens Pub in Boston

Words and photos by Joseph James

Album Review: Blueneck – Moonlighting

I gave Blueneck’s previous album The Outpost a positive review back in 2016. I still listen to it often – usually late at night when I’m in a creative headspace. I’ve eagerly awaited a new album ever since. Turns out the wait was longer than anticipated, but a decade later we get Moonlighting, Blueneck’s seventh album.

Duncan Attwood shared a blog update explaining the delay. They actually started the writing process three months after The Outpost, but the process was marred by setbacks. The covid19 pandemic was predicably a feature. But there were also family emergencies and some serious health issues that set the band back (Duncan had a stroke). And then probably just that trait of perfectionism that so many creatives have. The album sounds magic, so I’d suggest that being so picky paid off. But it can make processes frustratingly slow going.

Coming back to The Outpost, I think my main attraction to that record was how gorgeously moody it feels – almost emotionally desolate. Moonlighting doesn’t feel as somber, but still exists within the same wheelhouse.

Album opener and lead single “Mouth of the Snake” feels slinky, funky. 808 drums interplay with sparse synth bass, presenting us with undeniable groove. But even atop the dancey rhythm, the vocals sound haunting. And if you pay attention to the lyrics, they’re downright venomous. Perhaps this is why the track is entitled as such? It’s an odd disparity of feelings, but it works. The outro passage is reminiscent of Nine Inch Nails – especially some of the borderline-disco sounding songs from the With Teeth album.

Duncan shared a playlist of songs that inspired him whilst writing Moonlighting, and it makes total sense. Take Radiohead for example, they’re a rock band heavy on electronic elements, underwritten with dance drum beats. So many of these bands blend elements of analogue and digital, focus on feel, and are innovative with experimentation.

I did have to laugh at a drum fill heard during “Goliath”. You’ll know the one I’m referencing when you hear it. The start of the song reminds me of Massive Attack’s “Teardrop”, but said drum fill kicks things off and the song transforms into a different beast altogether. Duncan confessed to me that he loved how in my review of his last album, I compared “From Beyond” from to Phil Collins’ “In The Air Tonight” – mostly in terms of feel and song structure. Well the “Goliath” drum fill appears to reference Saint Phil again. It almost feels like an easter egg that Duncan has thrown in for me to find, although obviously that isn’t the case. You’ll also see Genesis’s “Mama” on the influence playlist as well, and there’s no denying that Phil Collins is doing some heavy lifting in the Blueneck Parthenon of great influences.

I’ve been listening to Moonlighting for a few months now. Getting to know these songs is rewarding, often highlighting new elements that I notice upon each listen. The instrumentation is frequently quite dense, but not muddy – full of tightly-packed subtle details.

The fluttering sounds in “Return to Cadiz” – I’m thinking programmed hi-hats? – makes me think of a bug flapping its wings. I’m also intrigued by the bubbling sound threaded throughout. The track has a great bass line later on, almost imperceptible under the commotion and screeching guitar solo, but still present enough to have me bobbing my head.

The insistent, pulsating bassline in the titular track is also fantastic, as is the cutting ride cymbal pattern. This was also lined up to be a single, before the band decided that two singles was enough for the album rollout.

It’s funny, that usually when I’m listening to Blueneck songs, I think about how they are such a masterclass in effective simplicity. And then a few minutes later, I’m wondering how on earth I ever considered the songwriting simple? But then I keep coming back to these thoughts, cycling over and throughout.

A lot of the music starts so sparse, and pregnant with possibility. Songs start bare, a repeated beat, an ostinato that evolves with complexity over time. We witness a masterful play of dynamics as tracks build with nuance. And somehow, over time, songs that started with only the most essential elements, are fully fledged, almost tipping over under the strain of all the chaos.

I’ve always gravitated to Duncan’s vocals. That was what hooked me when I first heard Blueneck, with their song “Man of Lies”. The song offered some great intriguing elements: the swirling keys, ominous basstones, and drumbeat that felt tugged at, dragging underfoot. But it was the vocals that had me paying attention. They’re so emotive, haunting, laden with hurt.

This still rings true in Moonlighting. I love the instrumentation, and how the songs take on such a life with each added part. But it’s the vocals that anchor me to the music and make these songs so compelling.

Comparing Moonlighting to some older Blueneck releases, this feels slightly more rocky and modern. My entry point was the 2014 album, King Nine. Some of their older material felt more ambient, with neo-classical elements. Strings have given way to synths. Moonlighting also doesn’t feel nearly as bleak as their past works. I really love the palpable glow of hope found within “Did You See The Sunrise?”, especially juxtaposed against many of the other more morose songs.

Sometimes the vocals, lyrical themes, and the mood of the music are at odds with each other. A lot of these songs on Moonlighting are incredibly groovy and compelling. But perhaps it is that tension which makes the music so good?

I think it fair to guess that Blueneck already have a decent fanbase. Existing fans will be pleased with this new offering, ten years on. But I daresay that these songs will earn the group more fans as well, especially from the world of post-rock fans.

I hope we will be seeing more from Blueneck in the future, after such a long wait. They last played as a live act at Arctangent 2018, but Duncan said he’d be open to performing again if it was easy enough to organise. The stroke was a major setback, but he’s made a great recovery and is back to being able to sing again, just requiring a few vocal warm up exercises these days.

Blueneck have often released remix projects to accompany their releases, and Duncan didn’t rule it out. I jokingly suggested a Matt Berry cover too, having seen Duncan posting about him on socials lately, and he was all about that idea [Prog Magazine previewed new singles from both Blueneck and Berry in the same article]. So watch this space! I expect more Blueneck output in the near future, and probably within the next decade, this time round.

Moonlighting will be self-released by Blueneck on July 10 2026. They have a limited run of physical media available through their friends at Burning Shed

Blueneck links:

Website: https://blueneck.music/

Bandcamp: https://blueneckuk.bandcamp.com/album/moonlighting-2

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BlueneckUK

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/blueneckmusic/

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/BlueneckUK

Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/blueneck

Order physical copies of the album from Burning Shed: https://burningshed.com/store/blueneck

Denovali: https://www.denovali.com/blueneck/

Joseph James

Live Review: Public Service Broadcasting at Meownui, Wellington

Public Service Broadcasting

w/ Coast Arcade

Meownui, Wellington

Saturday 2 May 2026

It’s only been about three weeks since I last saw Coast Arcade play, but I’m not complaining. These youngsters are fantastic. They have a great pedigree of influences, including Biffy Clyro, Velvet Revolver and I think I spotted that bassist Leo Spykerman had a Smashing Pumpkins Siamese Dream tattoo on his arm.

Meownui is known for having a decent sound system, and Coast Arcade sounded huge. I loved the segments were they would just jam out in the breakdowns, full of energy.

I find it funny how fashion trends come around, and that it is once again cool to baggy clothing. But maybe I should hold off commenting on things that betray my age – a few days ago I had to wince when I read one of my reviews from 2015 review where I referred to an “older crowd” as aged 30+…

I remember regrettably having to turn down an offer to review Public Service Broadcasting last time they came to New Zealand in 2018. They were playing in Auckland, and I couldn’t feasibly make the trip up because already I had a flight to Belgium scheduled for next day to roadie for the band Ranges on their first European tour.

So I made sure to grab a ticket when I saw Public Service Broadcasting were returning. At first they were booked to play the smaller Meow, but sales were strong enough that they upgraded to this larger venue.

They play interesting mostly-instrumental music that features audio samples drawing from historic archival footage. As their album title Inform-Educate-Entertain would suggest, the audio content often lands within such categories. They cover topics like the space race, and the Welsh mining industry. Their most recent album, The Last Flight, is a concept record inspired by the story of heroic pilot Amelia Earhart.

I’ve always been a sucker for post-rock with vocal samples. Maybeshewill were one of my first loves in that respect. Brave Arrows are another that springs to mind. The new Overhead,the Albatross album is one of the best records to come out in the past few years. My dear friends Ranges have used samples a fair bit earlier in their career – and I even loaned my voice to a recording of a Rudyard Kipling poem that they wrote an album about. One of the standout moments of dunk!USA was The End of the Ocean using a clip from The Walking Dead.

Maybe I shouldn’t lump Public Service Broadcasting in with many of these moody bands, because their music can be so lively and upbeat. But it fits in my mind, so I’ll roll with it.

Clearly missing the baggy clothing memo from Coast Arcade, the members of Public Service Broadcasting looked more like academics. All four bespectacled members wore ties, with lead Willgoose Esq rocking a bowtie. They were arranged in a semicircle onstage, flanked by a video projection screen.

One punter heckled “I love bow ties!”, earning a grinning retort from Willgoose: “congratulations on being a person of distinction and taste.”

I was pleased to see the drums close to the front of the stage, taking me back to Tortoise when they played San Fran, or seeing Maserati at dunk!fest 2023. Wrigglesworth, the drummer, was phenomenal. I was seriously impressed. Some of his playing reminded me of Blink 182’s Travis Barker, the way he used different parts of the kit to create complex beats. But he was subtle about it, completely locked in to the music. He had complete command of his instrument and I was awestruck so many times throughout the set.

Next to Wrigglesworth was JFAbraham, who predominantly played bass, but actually used a variety of instruments throughout the night. He was the person who would work the audience the most, walking out in front of their semicircle arrangement to wave, indicating for us to clap along to sections, or conducting us by lifting the neck of his bass. The best was when he had us chanting “Go!” to the song by the same name.

I had a hard time figuring out what Mr B was playing. He had a laptop and some items with knobs and buttons balanced upon a flat guitar case on a keyboard stand. I gathered that he was doing some visuals because he came out with a camcorder a few times to get live footage of his colleagues for the screen. It’s not until the end of the night, when introduced, that I realised that I was right – he was the visuals guy. A part of the band, but not one of the musicians. He used a mix of archival footage and rendered animation to tie in with the themes of the songs.

And then we had Willgoose, playing the toe-tapping guitar parts. You can tell that he’s a giant nerd, given the topics of his music, and his professorial attire, but he brings such an aire of delight to everything that he could never be accused of being stuffy or boring. Here he was, bringing history to life in such a novel and infectiously exciting way.

I had wondered if they would play some of their songs that featured more singing, thinking it wouldn’t be the same if it was just backing tracks. They invited Bella Bavin from Coast Arcade onstage to fill those singing roles for a few songs. She seemed a bit shy for “The Fun of It” (possibly not her usual register?), but absolutely hit her stride and nailed it in “Blue Heaven”, clearly enjoying that one and even getting the German language parts down.

The band played a handful of other songs featuring vocals, heavily altered with effects that reminded me of Jakob Collier and his harmoniser. The German electro funk of “People, Let’s Dance” reminded me of Kraftwerk or Daft Punk and was so fun.

Their final song was a fitting tribute to great New Zealander Sir Edmund Hilary, with a song about Mt Everest. JFAbraham played some great flugelhorn in that one.

What a class act! Willgoose shared that this was the biggest crowd they’d played to, for the first time playing any given city. I had such a great time, and have come away feeling more informed, educated, and entertained.