Feel the love as Teeks finds the love
THE very definition of an old soul, Te Karehana Gardiner-Toi, aka Teeks, has been working with wisdom, honing his craft, steadying his ship and readying himself for this moment.
The release of his official debut album coincided with the announcement he’s signed on with Yvette Noel-Schure, who has been Beyonce’s publicist since forever.
It’s likely to open many doors for the superstar-in-waiting and it’s not the only high-profile attention the Northland singer is attracting. Russell Crowe recently tweeted his admiration and, in turn, RZA from Wu-Tang Clan also got onboard to share the love. It’s all happening.
After the buzz and excitement of 2017’s
The Grapefruit Skies, he could have done anything, but chose to take time to nurture his artistry and songwriting skills. Fools rush in and all that.
While arming himself for the world stage, Teeks has placed importance on finding himself as a man, as a Ma¯ ori and as a musician, rather than rush his career. It’s paid off.
One thing he’s openly struggled with is being comfortable expressing emotion in public, an issue he felt was tied up in concepts of manliness.
Turning what he once saw as weakness into strength and embracing what he refers to as progressive masculinity, the album is appropriately titled Something to Feel.
With his feelings well and truly out of the bag, his strong romantic streak is clear. Just about any song on this album could be synced to the climactic scene in a big-budget romantic drama. Without You, Into You, Remember Me, If You Were Mine, Just For Tonight – pick any title and imagine yourself running slo-mo through an airport.
If you’ve been sniffing at Teeks’ heels waiting for crumbs to drop you will have heard some of these songs already but, of the new ones, Younger immediately stands out as a monster power ballad.
The album moves mostly in midtempo, but picks up the pace occasionally –on These Hands, for example, with some funky bass, handclaps and a just a hint of brass. Final track First Time isa suitably epic closer for a debut album from a singer who sounds like he’s been doing it forever.
A lot looser round the edges (in a good way) are Adam Hattaway and the Haunters, who are here to remind you of many things, especially to have a good time. They remind me of a lot of bands I like and also that the South Island’s reputation for four-piece guitar bands is pretty solid.
Hailing from O¯ tautahi and rumbling round the rock-and-roll sandpit, their first album was fuzzed-out fun, while their second (produced by Delaney Davidson) really brought out the melody and stripped everything back a bit.
Third time around, Ben Edwards (Marlon Williams, Nadia Reid) is behind the control desk and, on Woolston, Texas, he funnels the band’s loveable quirks into a streamlined, but lively affair. Although a self-confessed lover (rather than a fighter), Hattaway is suspicious of his emotional tendencies.
He worries love and affection could be Wasting Our Time and, on Big Night, he’s facing dark thoughts: ‘‘Sometimes you have to try, sometimes you want to die.’’ His voice screeches through the verse, before a big, old guitar solo transmutes the song to its proper, uplifting finale.
For something softer, you might like his whispered, hushed tones building over a lovely piano line on the gentle, redemptive