Festival Review: Great Sounds Great Part 3 @ Cuba Street Precinct, Wellington – 6/09/2025

In a city where the wind howls like a feedback loop and the alleyways hum with underground promise, Eyegum Music Collective threw down another unforgettable night of sonic communion – a sweaty, genre-bending, soul-thumping celebration of Wellington’s independent live music scene. I’ve covered this event three times previously, but this was by far the biggest event, thanks to headliners like Reb Fountain, Anthonie Tonnon, The Phoenix Foundation and Flying Nun heroes and OG’s, The Bats.

Eyegum isn’t just a name on a flyer. It’s a movement. Born in 2014 out of necessity and nurtured by passion, this Te Whanganui-a-Tara-based crew has built a legacy of live music that’s as inclusive as it is incendiary. From weekly Eyegum Wednesdays to the sprawling Welcome to Nowhere and, of course, Great Sounds Great festivals, they’ve carved out space for artists to be loud, weird, vulnerable, and brilliant. Their alumni list reads like a who’s-who of Aotearoa’s indie elite – The Beths, Glass Vaults, Chelsea Jade, Hans Pucket, Mermaidens, Earth Tongue, and more. But it’s not about clout. It’s about community. And Soul.

For me, the night kicked off hanging with the vinyl dads in Flying Nun’s Cuba Street shop listening to Robert Scott (The Bats, The Clean, etc.) blatt out a few choice gems from his vast cache of career highlights, plus a cover or two. He apologized for his croaky voice, as he was saving the cold-ravaged remnants for The Bats’ gig later in the evening. And yes, it was worth it.

Hoofing it up to Willis Street I caught the opening of the festival by Eye Gum Collective’s Joel Cosgrove, Her Worship the Mayor Tori Whanau and Councillor Teri O’Neill. Whanau may be a controversial leader in this town but after the efforts she’s put into helping festivals and arts events, she still gets my vote. Cosgrove commented publicly that GSG had all but sold out this year, meaning that they could afford to pay their debts. For a struggling arts collective in the crappy economy that’s an amazing thing. Here’s hoping that encourages a return next year.

Popping back to Flying Nun I swept up an earful of power pop upstarts Dropper (Jude Savage (ex-Bleeding Star), River Hann-Ellen, and Walter Martin (American Muscle), who were doing their best to air-blast the plaster of the shop’s ceiling. A former member of the band sang their praises, telling me about influences from icons like Bob Mould and, I suspect Fugazi. Either way their melodic belters were earsplittingly satisfying. I wish them luck. They deserve a chance.

I caught a couple of songs from Mystery Waitress – Olivia Campion and Tessa Dillon, doing a duet act with guitar and double bass at Rogue and Vagabond to a jolly appreciative craft beer crowd, and I heard smashing things about Bad Taste (Alphabethead and Young Gho$t) creating a flurry of cathartic, psychedelic hip-hop over at the impromptu venue at 13 Garett Street.

St Peter’s is a new venue to GSG. But not to the local music scene. It’s been doing this music gig thing for many years. Back in the early 2000’s I was in a rock show here with members of a Led Zep tribute act. More recently I’ve been to jazz festivals and Amanda Palmer. Lighting behind the nave and projections on the back always created a seductive ambience. Shayne P Carter performed an ‘acoustic’ solo gig to a packed congregation at St Peter’s; providing mesmerising and slightly edgy renditions of his Dimmer Classics and solo works, turning the room into a cathedral of sound. His act is intense and furious, as always. For me, the stand outs were Pendulum and Evolution. Equally impressive were the backlit visuals that flooded the nave like stained glass hallucinations.

As I shot back and forth I glimpsed the Tonic Travelling Stage providing beats at two of three locations around town – at Swimsuit Amira Asset was getting the jive on. Later at Little Beer Quarter I caught a tune or three from Nam Chucks as they spun cuts in the tiny cupboard dance club created especially for the night.

Down at Meow, Reb Fountain was holding court. Powerful as ever, despite a broken wing, she was still on fire, if not entirely on full flame. The place was jammed tighter than a can of Nordic sardines. All flipper to flipper, tail to tail, with everyone craning necks to get a better glimpse. (And it’s here I pause to thank the wonderful security team who managed to sneak me in through the back so I could take a few snaps of the gig. Cheers, Guardians). I guess if there was a tiny criticism of the festival team, it was underestimating Reb’s patronage tonight. She did headline WOMAD and The Opera House. So, you’d think St Peter’s would have been a more obvious alternative, given she’s attracted the same mature crowd that Shayne had just entertained.

Still, Reb and Co. pulled off a wonderful trimmed up set from her recent How Love Bends tour including a goosebump moment with Hey Mom, her new one, Silver Linings, and an intense delivery of For What It’s Worth, which sideman Dave Khan totally nailed to the wall with layers and layers of glorious guitar fuzz. Those that squeezed in witnessed a legend and a treasure.

Craving a quieter gig, I snuck back up Cuba to check out the soothing brooding of Louisa Nicklin, whose music was dripping in melancholy and self-assignation, with choice tracks from The Big Sulk and her self-titled albums.

A quick pop into Valhalla to see noise merchants Goya blew the cobwebs away, for certain. Then it was back to San Fran for another headliner, the mighty Phoenix Foundation. Performing on the very stage where they’d cut their teeth. Returning again – older and wiser, perhaps?

While I waited for them I got chatting with a few punters. One guy I talked to had just moved to the Capital. He’d never been to GSG and, not judging but observing, he wasn’t the youngest in the place. But it was pretty clear he was here for the big names. Principally, the beloved Bats, of whom he knew well from his radio days at Student station RDU in the 80’s.

Another chatty wàhine told me how she ‘discovered’ Dimmer whilst on her OE in London and was completely bewitched by Shayne Carter. She even had a signed copy of his autobiography, too. And again, she was a first time attendee to Great Sounds Great. She’d ‘absorbed’ Carter’s performance. She was definitely coming again next year.

A younger woman was only here for JessB, she told me. She was a dedicated fan. She and her friends were all about the dance scene. It’s huge in Welly, underground but emerging. Who knew. Now I do. But, with time on her hands, she was keen to check out the Bats. She didn’t believe me when I told her they’d been around for over four decades.

As I watched the room fill I saw more and more older patrons, with their partners, their friends, even their grown up children. Peppered in between were regulars I see at all San Fran gigs. We were a bit outnumbered tonight.

“It’s crazy, this thing,” shouts Sam Flynn Scott, referring to the wide array of gigs on tonight; “There’s too much on – it’s annoying!” Both he and Luke Buda were ready for a spot of procrastinations, the band flung themselves with wild abandon into their set. Firing out wonderful oldies like Guru, Bob Lennon John Dylan, and the superb chugging classic, Buffalo. There were also a couple of hidden gems, like Morning Riff, from the Fandango album, and last year’s Whistling In The Dark. “It’s the best thing we’ve ever done”, Scott reckons, wryly smiling at his bandmates.

Damn The River picks up the pace before GUYD brings us hopelessly down. And the extended wig out on Sideways Glance rounds off the evening for them, way too soon.

With a quick turn around on band kit, I barely had time to get a refill at the bar, before Robert Scott, Kaye Woodward and Paul Kean took the stage. Malcolm Grant was ‘off sick’, so ‘Ryan’ (no surname given) was filling in. “It’s OK,” noted Kean, “He had some tests and he’s coming through.” The greyer heads in the room nod sagely. We all wish him the best. The Bats are total legends. The original OGs of the Flying Nun crew.

I grew up through media and music with their music constantly on the turntable. So did many others in here. So we were all reveling on our own clouds of indie nostalgia as they raced through the 2 minute pop perfections like Block Of Wood, North By Northwest and Boogie Man, alongside nifty alternative hits like Rooftops and Lucky Day.

Finally, to shake out any last remaining cobwebs, a good rave up was in order. So, I headed back to Meow to get down with JessB and her loyal posse. They told me they were only here for her. And good reason, too.

Kenyan-born Jess Bourke, AKA JessB, is a rapper and a former professional netballer from Tamaki Makaurau. She’s already released two EPs and won Best New Zealand Act at the 2019 MTV Europe Music Awards. Her debut Feels Like Home dropped last year and has been going off in the Hip Hop/Dance world. Her music, provided by DJ Shaki (Half Queen) blends African, US and international dance styles in an eclectic mix. As a rapper, JessB is confident and endearing. Her room was loving it. Aroha all round. Being a novice I only recognized one track, the super-stylings of the new drop – Life Is Lifting. That is enough to go searching for more tracks for the playlist!

Great Sounds Great is not a knock off of The Others Way or any other indie music festival. It’s a showcase of talent, much like Wellington itself. If I had more hours I’d check out more of ambient crew Bathysphere, the surprisingly warm country/folk croonings of Sig Wilder or the crazy 50’s garage sci-fi rock of Space Bats, Attack! (I was gutted I couldn’t squeeze in to see them again). If I had my time again I’d also shoehorn in the electronic psychedelia of Badtab, or the big brassy funk of Star Time. My contacts tell me I’d missed something special. I’m sure I missed stuff, but I still have the programme – so I’ll be on the lookout.

But, as Tori Whanau said earlier, you don’t need a festival to get out and embrace the incredible talent going on every stage every night. The Capital has been bruised and battered by the idiots down in the Roundhouse on Molesworth St. But we are more resilient than that. We’re still a proud Arts Capital. Despite the politicos infatuation of saving money and ignoring the essentials of humanity. And when they are gone, we’ll still be Great. And we’ll sound Great, too. Thank you Eyegum. Ka Pai! Thank you for showing us how to be Great. Thank you to the volunteers; to the venues; to the security; the staff; the organizers and most of all to the artists. You all are Great!

Photo Gallery Part 1 – Jayden Bradshaw
Photo Gallery Part 2 – Tim Gruar