Gig Review: Reb Fountain @ The Opera House, Wellington – 02/05/2025

After being battered by 100+ winds, the Capital was finally settling down. Across the street from The Opera House, venue for tonight’s gig, leaves and papers were strewn everywhere, as if a careless giant had upended their huge waste bin across the city.

We were all thankful to be walking in the aftermath, and not the epicentre, of the latest weather bomb. Although, the currents were definitely still unsettling.
Adding to the vibe has been the relentless onslaught from Government to reduce the Public Service. By now nearly everyone in this town knows someone impacted directly or indirectly by the cuts.

In fact, it wasn’t out of character for Reb to ask the audience if we were all OK. She acknowledged that the band had just been in Ōtautahi the night before. “That city was declared a state of emergency. I hope we didn’t bring that all with us?” On the surface, it could have been just about the weather. But many, I’m sure, will interpret the sentiment to mean more than that.

On stage, Reb’s draped her instruments in the flags of Tino Rangatiratanga and Palestine. She’s in the right town to get the respect and support for that.

So, it was something of a treat to remove oneself from the day to day and enter, once again, the beautiful century old theatre. This is something Reb acknowledged as well, when she stops mid-set to look around, beaming from ear to ear. “What a great place. We just pinching ourselves at what great fun we’re having!”

Indeed, I’ve been following the trajectory of Reb Fountain for many years, from when the late Sam Prebble introduced me to her, as a supporting player in the Bond Street Bridge project, performing at Blink’s tiny underground bar, Happy, at the top of Tory St. Now it’s the Opera House and international stages, WOMAD and Festivals; several great albums; Taite Prize nominations; APRA AMCOS awards and much more.

Reb Fountain is on a rapid rising trajectory. Yet she’s still a bit ‘Kiwi’ shy and humble, which the Wellington audiences love. We are a conservative bunch, despite our penchant for arts and music. We quietly clap and only get rowdier towards the end of the night. Being a Friday night some of us are a bit late getting in too – Obvious by the banks of empty seats during the opening act.

Nobody was in any doubt who Pete Moriarty was as Dave Khan sneaks on to dark, gloomy stage. It’s bathed in a thick cloud of stage smoke and dim winter colours. You can barely see him, save for his now familiar outline against a backwash of muddy golds and reds. His ‘set’ is just one piece. A long immersive instrumental piece. One in which he plays almost every instrument on the stage, moving between a keyboard, MPC or pad, and loop samples, a slide guitar and his trusty violin. This feels like a soundtrack, shifting between long deep yawning drones to aching strings and southwest steel twang, all punctuated by sample phrases from an unidentified self-help guru. Messages of hope, self-affirmation, positivity. An interesting way to begin.

Reb’s band are both deft and careful not to upstage. Supporting her tonight and for the tour are Karin Canzek on bass, drummer Earl Robertson, and the ever-present talent of co-conspirator Dave Khan on guitar, keys, violin and virtually everything. I have to give a shout out to Robertson and Canzek, who quietly hold each song together and could easily have been the only musicians on stage. They are so much more than just an engine room. Canzek, in particular, has a unique presence in a long, stylish red robe-dress, gliding about on her spot but carrying almost every song as if she was playing nearly every part herself. Robertson’s drums are more a part of the song than simple timekeeping, adding colour and presence.

They kick off with a song I’ve re-imagined to be about the cult of political populists, He Commands You To Jump Into The Sea. Or is it about following a cult leader. Either way it’s a song that perhaps portrays a complex relationship, with longing, devotion, challenge, addiction and blind faith followed and challenged. Fountain herself owns the narrative, her lyrics a mix of storytelling, foreboding, and poetic respect for her subject.

That’s followed by an impassioned City and the first of several new ‘classics’ from her latest release, How Love Bends, called Forever.

It’s been described as “an alt-pop mantra for the ages”. Apparently, the song came from a dream. Reb worked with the music almost fully formed from it, the lyrics half finished. The original was recorded with the “’atmosphere of the sage wisdom of the dream”, but I feel tonight’s rendition was more straight forward and definitely, faster, more powerful.

There’s a gentle delicate treatment of the new album’s title track. An almost melancholy approach to a song about parenting, Hey Mom. Some of the lyrics hint at bad behaviour but I’m unsure if she’s talking about herself as a mother or as a child. It has a nice ambiguity to it.

The band provides more, expected, intensity for the next killer track, Samson, from 2020’s incredible self-titled effort. Live, all the material from this release provides a ready cache of awesome forces.

Swaggering into her set comes another fav, Lacuna followed by the Nick Cave styled number Fisherman (from 2021’s Iris) and another short and sweet song from How Love Bends, called Everyday Fitness, which Reb does almost as a solo using just a touch of backing from her keyboard/synth.

Beastie makes itself heard with a roar, followed by more new material in the form of the hooky Come Down.
She also slips in a surprising cover version of Lennon’s Working Class Hero done dead pan but as New Wave, in the style of the dearly departed Marianne Faithful (perhaps in dedication to her in some way?). Khan has outdone himself on the samples, as it throbs with menace and irony. I hope this finds its way onto a recording somewhere.

They finish with a souring, explosive finale, Memorial, which builds in a smoke of light and sound. The arc of single LEDs that sit behind the band provide most of the light and colour, phasing in and out in banks of golds, greens and blues. The stage is never fully lit, and hence there’s an ominous, slightly gloomy edge, provided by the lighting designer. On a big stage like this it’s really effective. However in Welly this effect, this style of murky darkness is a trend I’ll be happy to see retreat soon. Sometimes it’s nice to see the performers face.

After a quick departure the quartet return for encores.
The first is a swaying, louder, vibrant version of Faster, with that earworm 60’s guitar hook that Khan does so effortlessly.

And another new song, Nothing Like, gets an airing with Khan cutting loose with a blistering guitar solo before the night rounded off with the expected dramatic closer Don’t You Know Who I Am. I never get tired of hearing this and every time I do I find myself transposing the current affairs onto the lyrics – this time it’s the fate of Gaza that seems to seep on through. The song, as you know, hangs off a single riff, poetry, song, rap, whatever. But toward the end the tension builds to an incredible crushing crescendo, with Reb’s high notes distorted by some demonic alchemy from the sound desk. Finally the town’s folk are motivated and leap to their feet in jubilant celebration.

I felt Reb was a little bit more reserved on stage tonight. At times, I’ve seen her channel the energy of an exorcist at the apex of a song when need. Yet there was a calm nurturing maturity about her work tonight. Perhaps that’s the weather, the seasons, the material or age. But it was still a beautiful thing. There’s no doubt Reb Fountain is a treasured performer. Her collabs with Dave Khan and others are testament to her talent.
If you get a chance, go see her.
It’s a well spent couple of hours, for your ears, and your soul.

Photo Credit: Andy Russell
Reb Fountain Gallery