Gig Review: Clap Clap Riot @ Meow, Wellington – 22/05/2026

Clap Clap Riot’s return to the stage felt like a long‑overdue jolt of electricity. After seven years away, the Canterbury‑born, Tāmaki Makaurau-based five‑piece – Stephen Heard (vocals, guitar), Dave Rowlands (guitar), Tristan Colenso (bass), Elijah Whyte (drums) and James McDonald (keyboards, guitar) – walked out to a house that had clearly been waiting. A small contingent of fans had travelled from as far as the Far North and Taranaki just to catch the show, eager for the band’s trademark energy and the eclectic punch of tracks spanning Counting Spins (2012), Nobody / Everybody (2014) and Dull Life (2017).

What made the night crackle, though, was the promise of what’s next. Alongside the classics came the announcement of a new album on the horizon, heralded by their latest single Like A Lover – the spark behind this fresh run of shows. It wasn’t just a comeback; it felt like a band stepping forward with purpose, ready to write the next chapter in real time. But more on that later. I’m getting ahead of myself…

“We are all ‘Jack’” announced Jack Bromwich, “We are the band!”. Three earnest young men exploded onto the stage, opening the night with an intense set that moved between delicate guitar filigree, introspective lyricism, and sudden flashes of raw emotional force – the kind that hushes a room without asking. It was the sound of an artist who has spent years sharpening his craft across Tāmaki Makaurau’s live circuit, carrying himself with the quiet confidence of someone who knows exactly where his music lands and why it hits.

Originally from Pōneke and now based in Auckland, Jack Bromwich has carved out a distinctive alt‑rock identity through a run of genre‑shifting EPs and singles, including the assaulting noise-pop of Poser, Freak (2025), and the piercing Rubber Doll (2026). Both got a good airing tonight. They are different from the recorded versions – more raw, more immediate. I also hear Dust in there (which is more psych-dream pop on the record) and a couple of new ones, including Sinking Boat. That one was worth paying attention to, with changes in timing and even unexpected chord shifts.

It was a short time under the lights, but a good warm up for the handful that turned up early. And at the end, the real Jack politely signs off, “Thank you for having me!”, “Thank you for hosting us,” pipes up a voice from the back. I think it was his mum. I’d seen her earlier. And well she should be proud. His blend of intricate guitar work and emotionally candid song writing is thought-provoking and deeply engaging. Find him on the streaming channels, I guarantee a good listening.

Next up was TWIAY (The World Is Against You), who brought a darker, more atmospheric shift to the night, with Thomas Waddington leading the project alongside three supporting players who helped thicken the shoegaze‑meets‑post‑punk haze.

But despite the intended immersive, cinematic vibe they were after the band were outwitted by the gremlins of Meow. Thomas battled a misbehaving amp that cut in and out at the worst possible moments, another guitar hit the big dust bowl and was promptly discarded, and the drummer tore a hole in his snare big enough to hide a six pack. It was déjà vu for them – their last Meow appearance had also been sabotaged by inexplicable bad vibes and technical disasters. Yet even under siege, they managed to rally enough to complete their song list blasting out tense and emotional heavyweights such as Teeth and Gold, proving that TWIAY’s rising momentum can’t be derailed that easily.

When Clap Clap Riot finally hit the stage it’s a brilliant return. Starting off with Holiday and Don’t Want Your Body they deliver the kind of tight, high‑energy indie‑rock performance that has always defined their reputation, ever since their Canterbury beginnings. Their set blended sharp guitar hooks, punchy rhythms, and the charismatic delivery of frontman Stephen Heard and a showy, ‘rock-god’ performance from guitarist Dave Rowlands, reminding us why they remain one of Aotearoa’s most enduring live acts. Their newer material – especially the 2026 single Like a Lover – landed with force, its raw emotional edge cutting through the room. Some fan faves were in the mix – All About The Weather, Mama, So You Say, Moss-Haired Girl, and Everybody’s Asleep went down a treat, along with a couple of more obscure ones like Die, from their very first EP Apparently, this is one of Tristan’s, about “killing off a lady”. It starts with a snazzy drum solo from Elijah Whyte to kick off this semi-punk blast of energy. And an almost gospel version of Ben E. King’s Stand By Me. An odd inclusion, I thought, given the strength of their own material. I might have missed the memo on the reason why that one was in there.

No matter how many years since this band have been on stage their chemistry was still unmistakably alive – Sharp, tight and still emanating a sense of fun, too. They appear to have that kind of unspoken musical communication that only comes from years of playing together.

That’s the good news. Less so was the door. Unfortunately, the club was never more than half full. Maybe less. And that’s a real shame. Because CCR are a great band. They took me right back to the days of So So Modern, Mint Chicks and even *Stellar – when music in Aotearoa was truly fearless. Before commercialism and algorithms dictated our listening. If you were here tonight, you know what I’m saying. For the rest, to paraphrase a horrible Aussie cliché – Where the bloody hell were you?

Photo Credit: Tim Gruar for Muzic.NZ
Clap Clap Riot Gallery
Jack Bromwich Gallery
The World Is Against You Gallery