Gig Review: Reb Fountain @ Meow Nui, Wellington – 24/10/2026

Tino Rangatiratanga and Palestine flags adorn Reb Fountain’s stage set at Meow Nui, reminding us that (a week out from the election – and particularly in the capital) everything is political right now; that we might even be in the company of the “good people [who] tear the fascists down”. 

Opening act Mads Harrop takes an admirable swing at the task. 

“Love the Māori language, hate this racist government,” being a good representative soundbite of her feisty between-songs banter.

She exhorts us to vote, sign a petition to get Tourette’s Syndrome recognised as a disability, and buy her latest song on Bandcamp, giving a solid demonstration of why we should. “Five Years From Now” absolutely goes off; Seth Sinclair providing plenty of the sort of take-no-prisoners drumming we’ll be able to enjoy across both acts tonight.

Unreleased song Judy Says hits gut-vibratingly deep, unsettling and massive. Its subject matter is easy to intimate. 

“Donald Trump is a fucking cunt and I hate, hate, hate him,” Harrop shouts, popping two middle fingers for emphasis. She’s preaching to the converted, and they’re all for it. 

She’s also stoked to be treading a stage trod by Amy Taylor from Amyl and the Sniffers before her. A penchant for crowd pleasing behaviour – like bracing herself with one foot on the stage rail, followed by playing guitar behind her head – makes it easy to dream of Harrop following a similar, stadium-sized path. 

The band is great – a lead guitarist with a bright rock star energy, and a bassist who seems to be dreaming his sound into existence. Contagious World reminds us not only of Covid-19, but also that Harrop has been paying her dues for a while now, and deserves every good fortune. 

Reb Fountain band personnel from the Water for Gasoline album present include longtime collaborators Dave Khan (on guitar, keys, backing vocals, and vibes) and Earl Robertson (on drums), along with Dianne Swann on lead guitar and very strong backing vocals. They are joined by James Duncan (Dimmer/SJD) on bass, and it’s a joy to watch him locking in with his bandmates, smiling in his groove. The group is cohesively much more than the sum of its parts – a brooding storm, periodically unleashing mayhem around the incendiary energy of their leader. Thrilling stuff. 

Song of the moment Good People opens the set on a mighty and galvanising note, setting high stakes that are consistently met. Although, Fountain and Swann struggle with distracting sound issues for the first few songs, Come Down develops the groove that binds an entranced crowd as one for the duration of the evening. There’s also the air of the old time carny, suggested by Khan’s piano keys on songs like He Commands You to Jump Into the Sea, where Fountain’s spoken word incantations often bring Patti Smith to mind. 

Better turns up the country vibes, with Fountain on acoustic guitar, providing a mournful highlight of the more fragile numbers. Following a shimmering take on the melancholy Things, resplendent with Khan’s aching guitar, the band briefly leave Fountain alone on the stage. Then she plays Silver Linings (which she wrote to comfort friend and collaborator Tami Neilson), and it’s not long before Khan ambles back onstage to join her for a full-blown country duet.

Swarm demonstrates how many ranges Fountain’s voice is capable of scaling.

Water for Gasoline turns up the witchy vibes – “They’ll bury me tomorrow, but they’re hanging me tonight.” Her physically elemental demeanour – waving like a wind wand, undulating like a river – brings Stevie Nicks to mind. 

“You guys are so attentive, it’s scary,” she tells the mesmerised crowd, before expressing her sincere gratitude for that attention.

Hey Mom is a devastatingly tender and welcome B-side inclusion – from the Don’t You Know Who I Am single – and not the first time the hard won tenderness of Rickie Lee Jones feels like a nearby touchstone.

The Gamble has the audience swaying in an entrainment that is sustained through the slow build of the spoken word parts of Samson. The latter is a great example of the lengths Fountain can drive a story to. All Eyes on You is an explosive highlight. Beautiful Lie and Memorial turn out to be the last two songs before the encore, but it feels like we’re on the verge of something astonishing when the band leave the stage. 

Sure enough, when they come back the intensity ramps up, perhaps fuelled by the beginning of a party. It’s the last show of the tour, and Robertson appears overwhelmed with emotion during the encore, channeling his feels into a truly powerful performance. 

Sand Dunes is a solitary and welcome inclusion from the Smoke Signals EP, reminding us Water for Gasoline wasn’t the only significant work Fountain released this year. Its dancefloor electronica translates well to the stage, spreading Saturday night all over the crowd. 

A suitably epic closing take on the narrative Don’t You Know Who I Am? doubles as a smoking hot calling card left behind by its singer, leaving no doubt that – even if she isn’t the subject of the song – she has earned the right to claim its swagger. As Fountain’s sky-splitting vocal propels us out of Meow Nui, there’s no doubt, we’ve been in the company of a sorceress currently conjuring at the top of her game. She is the powder keg and her band are her match in more ways than one, fully capable of both meeting her where she’s at, and burning the house down.

Photo Credit: Finn Zemba for Muzic.NZ
Reb Fountain Gallery
Mads Harrop Gallery