Three Weeks, Three Festivals
Music festivals are a cultural staple of the southern hemisphere summer — a canon event in many young people’s lives. Hot, sweaty days bleeding into sticky nights. They’re also big businesses. The largest, like St Jerome’s Laneway and Electric Avenue, can draw crowds of up to 50,000 punters. But planning a party of that scale, so far in advance, comes with inherent risk, not least the possibility that people simply don’t show up.
In the immediate post-pandemic years, the festival market boomed. A population starved of live music, flush with pent-up savings, was eager to buy a ticket or three. The summer of 2023–24 alone hosted at least 70 music festivals, we know because Chris Schulz counted them all! But the boom was short-lived. Nest Fest collapsed first, placed in liquidation with debts of $800,000. Bay Dreams followed. Then came the implosion of Juicy Fest NZ. And those are just the big ones… Heading into the summer of 2025–26, up to half of those 70 festivals had either folded or taken a year off in an attempt to ride out the economic storm.
Against this backdrop, we have been wondering what the future holds for festivals in Aotearoa. Can they weather the storm of this economic climate? It’s obvious that it’s an expensive endeavour, but we also know that we have incredible talent, beautiful sites, and passionate people; all things necessary to throw amazing events.
The Newzician team hit the road for three weeks to take stock of what was going on (and have a great boogie while we were at it) taking on three very different festivals. First up Le Currents, full of cowboy boots and Birkenstocks. Twisted Frequency followed, nestled in the Cobb Valley and straddling the new year. Slackbarn!, a bright upstart filled with indie gems in the beautiful Hawkes Bay – and a handy final stop on the road back to Tāmaki – closed things out.
Festivals like these define our summers and we want to see them not just continue, but thrive. See what’s out there! Get inspired! Pop one on your summer bucket list for next year and maybe we’ll see you on the dance floor?
Le Currents Festival
27 December 2025
Riverside Park, Taupō
Words & Photography by Flynn Robson
After a brief fling with alternate locations, Le Currents Festival returned to its home along the Taupō riverside in December 2025. I attended the very first Le Currents back in 2020, and arriving early to this year’s festival I was hit with a flush of nostalgia. It's rare that a festival is able to return to their roots, and reignite the same spark that set it off. The first edition had a cool factor brought by authentically alternative taste-makers. It’s that flavour that festivals are now chasing and working to bleed commercially dry. Le Currents #1 brought together a smart curation of local acts with an idyllic environment. Le Currents five years on still boasts this same vibe, but now the day is set to be full to the guts.
Any of the rain forecasted flitted away before the gates opened, and the sun was beating down. It seemed like one of those things that was pre-arranged, like they had booked in the weather along with the stages and acts. The line-up has grown with the festival. Le Currents has always been a booker of great local talent, but the last few years have seen acts from across the Tasman and farther reaches grace the great lake’s stages. Local treasures such as Mim Jensen and There’s a Tuesday were due to share main stage duties with Aussie staples Lime Cordiale and heavier hitters Rudimental.
In the lead up to the festival, Le Currents ran a competition for a local act to win the festival’s opening slot. A slot like this can be a poison chalice for an upcoming band — there is the novelty of a full set and lights of the main stage, but an inevitable audience of very few. The funky Welly-based ‘Fine Wine Social Club’ took the opportunity by the horns (literally) and played an incredibly energised set to a small but lively audience. It’s incredibly important that opportunities like this are afforded to local acts, and for that reason alone it was a joy to see the band play their hearts out on one of the biggest stages around this summer.
2PM rolled around in no time, and I set out to peruse the hospitality vendors in search of one of what would be quite a few coffees. As far as single day festival vendors go, Le Currents has a pretty pleasing selection. There were very few retail offerings aside from artist merch and Junktion’s film and camera tent (which came in extremely handy for an over-caffeinated film photographer) but the food offerings were plentiful and surprisingly efficient. It was also noticeable how pleasant the staff across the board were. From market vendors to ticket scanners and the vast backstage and media personnel, everyone was exceptionally polite and welcoming.
I made my way back to the main stage to catch the start of a contingent of Christchurch artists. ‘Mim Jensen’ is probably one of Aotearoa Indie’s best hidden gems. Mim’s music is peppered with personality and honest songwriting, matched with a voice that feels equally as genuine and authentic. Main stage was still sparse as the band took the stage, but by the end of the set a number of pockets of punters had populated the front railing.
Next up was There’s a Tuesday. The band are bonafide indie darlings, and there was a rush towards the stage as Nat and Minnie started swinging their gats. The sun was starting to really hammer down, sunblock was reapplied, and vibes were high. The band cracked early into hits like ‘Amsterdam’ and ‘Pinata Head’ while progressively dropping tracks off their debut album Blush. It was unfortunate for the excited crowd when technical difficulties started to bleed into the set. Unlike a regular gig, bands aren’t often afforded a soundcheck at festivals. The sound system is also subjected to a revolving door of sounds and gear on stage across the day. I’d say for most punters, in their hierarchy of festival needs, live mixing doesn’t sit atop the pyramid. But if the festival experience is a pyramid, then the sound system is an important building block, which if dislodged can start to disassemble the rest of the experience. At points in There’s a Tuesday’s set, the lack of vocals or high-end became too evident to ignore. At one point the band was forced to have a fender amp replaced mid-set and restart that song. It’s a tough watch when bands are forced to battle against technical difficulties, but to their credit the band faced up valiantly.
It was after this that I made my way to the La Danse stage. First up were Christchurch-based Craigslist Sound System, Colter Carson and Raffael Hamblett. Having done my time in the Ōtautahi music scene, I was no stranger to Craigslist. The duo are avid party throwers, and have an incredible knack for finding just the right vibe for the party. What really struck me heading through the gates was the sleeper line-up of electronic acts. The electronic stage, so often an afterthought, was stacked with the country's best local talent. Craigslist eventually made way for fellow Christchurch disk jockey ANTZ and Le Currents veterans Intrepid Cuz, Kédu Carlö, and the Katayangi twins. Kédu Carlö were standouts, Jess Penson wooing the audience over Carly Gill’s live drums. The Katayangi twins followed up, and brought the energy up a step. The punters were polite, and the moshing was loose, and I soon found myself along the front railing, bass thumping through my Sets earplugs.
As the day wore on the festival went from bustling to bursting at the seams. The promoters should be extremely proud to have brought out so many punters, in an economy that is pushing festivals to the brink of collapse. An increase in capacity did come at some cost. People were pooling around the bars and bathrooms, and the line between queuing and mulling around seemed to blur. From my recollection, the festival layout remained pretty much unchanged from its 2020 debut. A noticeable addition was the VIP area. It might be one of the best VIP tickets on offer, the segmented area at mainstage and facilities made the festival upgrade a worthwhile investment.
I made my way sporadically back to the main stage to catch moments of Letters to Lions, No Cigar and Lime Cordiale, but it was at La Danse I felt most comfortable. It was also on this stage, that the act I was most excited to see was playing. Chaos In The CBD have been one of Aotearoa’s best dance exports over the last decade. It was their music that had carried me through the many late nights in my early 20s, racing against the clock to finish my university assignments. They bring to their recorded music, a lowkey driving rhythm, but I had been assured that the energy was ramped up live. The pair replaced duo Chromeo, but it was anything but a like-for-like replacement. There was an instant pivot, as the expats brought their distinct flavour of electronica to La Danse.
Dusk was finally starting to settle on what had been a hot summer’s day. Looking around I caught a couple in front of me putting on a jumper and jacket respectively. My cue to head to the buses. I was camping at the Le Currents campsite, only 15 minutes away at the National Equestrian Centre. As I wandered off through the gates and towards the buses, I felt the heat start to sap from my sun soaked skin. I waved goodbye to the diligent staff, with a grin on my face. It had been a wonderful day out, but I was equally as pleased for what awaited me next — a nice hot shower, and a well-deserved rest.
Twisted Frequency
30 December 2025 - 3 January 2026
Cobb Valley, Tākaka
Words & photography by Rosa Nevison
Twisted is a totally immersive experience. Once you’re in the valley, you’re IN the valley. No service, no outside world. Just the music, the river, the enclosure of forest and fellow punters. The service goes as you climb over the Tākaka hill and suddenly you’re locked in. The party has begun. My tummy fluttered with excitement and anticipation as we drove into the site: what was to come? Could I handle it? What is post-skuxx? Should I have purchased some gumboots?
The site is absolutely beautiful. It’s split into three natural levels from the river where the Beat Bach stage sits, up to the middle level which has The Chillery – a large tent-like stage with couches stacked up 3-high at the back, the Dojo – a smaller, intimate, “indoor” stage with a big TV and Skate 3 on Playstation in the corner, a selection of shops selling wares and trinkets, and food stalls. Up one more level along the tree line is a skate ramp and the main stage, Te Wētā, with its incredibly impressive wooden totem design that changes every year, huge speaker system and remarkable lighting design.
The welcoming ceremony was a beautiful way to open the festival, bringing people into the ethos of Twisted, acknowledging the whenua, and setting the intention for the next four days. Founder and event manager Dee (David Tait) gave a heartfelt speech thanking all the people involved, and the reality of running an independent event. You could really feel the passion and gratitude for the community, so much so I got a little tear in my eye. The wētā was the totem for this year's festival. In Māori lore it is a symbol of strength and resilience; a choice that couldn't have been more appropriate for what was to come. These were the last moments of quiet before the music would start, and not stop until midday on January 3rd.
We spent the Night One locked in at The Chillery just absolutely fizzed to be there. Benjamin Bunny and Siliconbeat were highlights and prompted the necessary removal of shoes for optimal two-stepping.
Day Two was wet. I wouldn’t typically lament about the weather when writing about a music festival, but you really can’t talk about this Twisted without it. The early afternoon was soundtracked with some bush prog (a sub-genre of psy trance that came out of Australia) at main. Next on our must-sees were Isaac Chambers & Dub Princess. This collaboration between NZ producer and English vocalist Dub Princess was groovy, upbeat and a lot of fun. Super interesting mix of electronic and live elements with classic dub beats, creating a beautiful immersive sound that was perfect for a 7pm boogie while eating our japanese curry dinner. This is when it all started to go a bit haywire. It was New Year's Eve. We were pumped, ready for a big night of celebrating, but the rain would just not stop. For a while we committed to just getting wet. It seemed easier than the task of staying dry as the rain got harder and harder. The outfits changed from boots and flimsy rain jackets, to tees, then to togs. Honestly, it was pretty thrilling. Mud up to our mid calves and soaked from head to toe having the best dance to Aaron King. I felt alive. However, this only proved bearable for a few hours until the chill started to set in and we needed to remedy the situation. Cups of tea were brewed, new clothes for warmth… but then there was a knock on the van door. “The river is rising. We need you to evacuate to somewhere higher. You’ve got 5 minutes.”
The rest of our evening cycled through stages of partying in The Chillery (the only covered stage that wasn’t also getting flooded), trying to stay warm in our makeshift home for the night, chatting shit, dozing in and out of uncomfortable sleep where possible and trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. Information was difficult to get, and we realised later that two halves of the festival were living in entirely different realities. One half cold, wet, tired, with nowhere to go or evacuating to the Takaka community hall, while the other half were celebrating new years like normal, blissfully unaware of the chaos around them. It was clear that facing down the barrel of a storm was not an excuse to stop the music, but I know it would have been a difficult situation to manage.
Though this was a hectic night for many, I do think it highlighted the kaupapa of the festival. Community spirit reigned supreme. People stepped up to help and morale remained high, encouraging us to believe that it would all be fine. And it was.
Nothing makes people happier than sunshine after rain. The positive energy was infectious around the festival once everyone began to dry off. We fixed our awning, changed into clean (ish) dry clothes, put some socks on (!), pulled out the camp chairs and parked up, basking in the sun that had finally managed to break through the wash of clouds. By the early evening the legendary crew had gotten the closed stages back up and running. Electronic dream-pop band KITA brought ethereal energy, powerful vocals and anthemic tunes as the sky went dark. The emergence of the fire-spinning circle was a beautiful addition to the atmosphere and I sat there mesmerized for almost an hour just listening and watching and soaking it all in. Another Day Four highlight was the Sigil Sound takeover in the Dojo. After a lot of deep trance that evening, it was a nice change of pace to have some high energy dance music to really get the blood pumping. DJ Bless U, BBmage and NymphLoads were epic.
And finally we got to Day Four. Time moves differently in the valley and it felt like we had been there forever. This was our life now. The rhythm of the days was comforting. Wake up mid-morning. Get the pots of coffee on. Drink the coconut water with the rapidly melting ice from the chilly bin. Porridge or beans on toast. Hang out chit chatting for hours. Swim… Swim! The river had reopened and we were desperate to wash away the dust. Nothing makes you feel more like a new person than being submerged in icy river water, and I believe the hundreds of people milling around in various states of nudity would agree. The energy to attack the rest of the day had been restored. We watched some skating up at the ramp that had finally dried, then eased into the afternoon with Dusty Comedy Kickons which was a surprising highlight. Jack Darling is easily the funniest comedian I’ve seen recently. Soon all the cool Welly bands started to play. Cruelly and Dropper among them, then Tāmaki’s Ringlets.
We boosted up to the Twisted Disco – a recommended set from many people and it absolutely delivered. This was the most fun I had dancing all festival. It was housey, upbeat, and super groovy. The Chillery was packed. We got there at some point during Gordo & Teejs’ set, and stayed all through Chanuii to the end of Bytesize, which was my favourite set from the whole festival. The addition of the live saxophone from Rachael Travaille brought a real vibe to the afro house and roots tunes. Plus the two women just looked like they were having a blast, which is infectious.
We shifted gears to watch Earth Tongue. They were energetic and powerful and I was totally impressed by their set. Something about their punchy, almost demonic sound perfectly fit the feral, just-gone-dark energy of the final night. ONHELL and local legend Paige Julia delivered epic sets on the Beat Bach. Heavy, bassy, hectic. Finally when I called it a night at 5.30am, even the bass rattling the van windows didn’t stop me from falling straight asleep.
Over the next few days as we reentered the real world and made our way back to Wellington I couldn’t help but wonder if it was all a dream. I called Mum from the Mussel Inn (iykyk) and she asked if I was okay (understandably), and how I’d rate it. Without skipping a beat: easily 10/10. I understand why people come back year after year. It’s immersive and engaging, simultaneously hectic and relaxed, and a hell of a lot of fun. The music offerings are hugely diverse with a treasure trove of artists and genres to discover. The setup is a huge feat: mindblowing sound and lighting that would rival any festival across the world – all tucked into this slice of Aotearoa paradise. The crowd is respectful of each other and for the environment; I didn’t see a single piece of rubbish around. The community spirit is palpable from the moment you arrive, and there’s a sense of freedom that comes from being disconnected and totally present. Twisted, I’ll be back–hopefully not for the last time.
Twisted Frequency has announced that the 2026-27 festival may be its last because of intense financial pressure. It would be a tragedy to lose such a beautiful festival! If you want to support them, buying tickets early is a huge help. They are also running some big fundraising campaigns, so get involved if you can! More information can be found on their instagram here, or website here.
Slackbarn!
10 January 2026
Black Barn Vineyards, Havelock North, Hawkes Bay
Words by Flynn Robson / Photography by Flynn Robson & Rosa Nevison
If you hadn’t heard of Slackbarn before December last year, there is no need to be embarrassed. The boutique one-day festival is a new entrant on the scene, having hosted their first edition in January of 2025. The festival is the brainchild of SLACK! Agency, run by promoters Ben Morgan and Dylan Clark. The pair, avid servants of the Aotearoa music scene, came together whilst living in Melbourne, with the initial aim to tour acts either side of the Tasman. As with creative and ambitious people, the scope grew until the idea of a festival was just hard to ignore. I attended the inaugural Slackbarn last January, and driving home the next day, fellow Newzician editor Sam and I both agreed that it was our favourite festival we had ever attended. My only creeping concern leaving Slackbarn #1 was whether the love and genuine consideration for the lineup could be reciprocated by the public in ticket sales. The venue at times felt sparse, and towards the end of the day felt more like a local affair than a nationally significant event. When Slackbarn #2 was announced last year, I was stoked. Sam and I had both agreed that if the festival was to return that we would enthusiastically endorse it to all our friends, in the hope of getting a crew together.
The lineup for Slackbarn #2 was incredible. Ninajirachi, objectively the hottest act in Australia (off the back of winning all the major Australian Music Awards), was slated to play the headlining spot on the festival’s newly introduced ‘Market Stage’, alongside chronically underrated American indie phenom Kate Bollinger, and critically hyped Shady Nasty holding down the main stage. Local legends such as Marlin’s Dreaming, Nice Girl, AJ Honeysuckle and Eden Burns were also in the mix. It was a lineup that seemed almost too good to be true, and in some ways it may have been. In November the Slack Agency team announced that despite their best efforts, ticket sales had been slow and that the lineup would need to be reshuffled. The show was set to go on, just with a reduced scope, Australian act Harley Girl dropped off the lineup along with some of the local contingent, but the majority of the lineup remained unchanged.
Part of the allure of the festival is the venue. Black Barn is one of the country's most idyllic venues. The main stage is an amphitheatre, with a cascading grass terrace, that flows down from a vineyard above. The site is gorgeous, with timber planked walkways flanked by vines. It’s hard not to reminisce on the last music festival held here. Nest Fest was started in 2019 by promoter Harry Petit, and across its three year run at the barn, the festival grew to epitomise a specific brand of dreamy, alternative culture that had swept the country. The legacy of Nest Fest was ultimately soured by its eventual insolvency, leaving a host of creditors, largely artists, hung out to dry. But it’s clear that the early years of that festival was a major influence for Slack. Indeed one of the original acts, Marlin’s Dreaming, was even originally slated to be playing Slackbarn.
As the new year rolled round, plans – as they often do – started to make themselves. Visiting from out-of-town evidently meant sorting accommodation, and although Slackbarn had arranged deals for camping at the local TOP 10 Holiday Park, situations like this more often become a search to find out which of your friends originally hails from Hawkes Bay. Luckily for Rosa and I, stage manager for the day Arran Cargill-Brown was happy to host us, and we found ourselves on the morning of the 10th only a few kms up the road.
The forecast had been an ominous 38 degrees. God (or the meteorologist) must be a slacker however, as by the time the festival was due to start, the sky was blanketed in a thin shield of white cloud. The festival opened up at 3PM and we made our way there diligently for the first set. We arrived on site and were greeted to the dusty market circus by Cam Morris's (of 121 fame) disco-y set. Cam had a big grin on his face as he busted out some funky tunes, and the feeling was infectious. Looking around, the markets were packed with a groovy selection of vendors. Fellow party planners and music fanatics Mouthfull were manning a matcha lounge, with skate-rats turned underground media pioneers Wozer and Splendid Film Lab posted up alongside a tasteful selection of clothing stalls from Desu, Geep, and Rollos. It was a well considered lineup, much in the same way the music was.
Immediately we started to bump into groovy people from across the scene. First it was fellow photographers Nico Penny and Sonny Eades, but soon it became a mish-mash of some of our favourite taste-makers from across the country. The allure of Slack had not gone unnoticed by the ones in the know. We made our way up to the amphitheater to catch the first band of the day. Half/Angel are an extremely impressive indie band from Te Whanganui-a-tara. A couple bangers already up their sleeves, single ‘Jitterbug’ is definitely the place to start for the uninitiated. The band shares vocals between guitarists Tūmanako Waa and Everett Parker, but their aura is well divided between the four-piece, and they are certainly the most fashionable band on the lineup. As the band cracked on, I scanned my eyes over the amphitheatre. The grassy banks were mostly unpopulated as of the moment, with the crowd mainly taking up residence in front of the barrier and either side of the sound tent.
I made my way back down to the Market Stage, stopping briefly to interrogate Jack Gittings of Mouthfull with questions about matcha. Walking back into the markets, my first-ever matcha in hand, I glanced around to take in the atmosphere. It struck me how well considered the whole event was. It’s immensely humbling to realise you are being looked after so well by a host. Deeply ingrained inside the idea of ‘hosting’ is the concept of Manaakitanga. It’s an understanding of your responsibility as a host, to consider the experience of everyone who enters through the door. This was just so evident for Slackbarn. From the carparking, to buses, to camping options, market vendors, the artist house, there had been so much thought for what people might need. I felt a strong yearning for people to hurry up and arrive, so I could share the experience with more people.
I soon scurried back up to the main stage, determined to catch Miakie’s set. Mia was a bit of a celeb during my years at Otago Uni, and I could still remember a host of the songs from her days under the alias Mia Jay. I posted up on the bank, alongside friends Rita and Otis, and bopped along to a number of songs that I hadn’t even realised had inscribed themselves into my brain space. As 5pm turned into 6pm, I noticed the amphitheatre start to fill out. Slowly but surely, the greenspace was replaced by bums, and by the time Shady Nasty took the stage, there was a small crowd also populating the dusty mosh. Shady Nasty are a group with a reputation that precedes them. Despite this, it's pretty hard to sum that all up into one sentence. The group was probably best summarised to me by our friend Jasmin as Australian Eshay-rap (but I’m not sure they could be described as rap, nor do I really know what eshay means). The group are most definitely performers, and their set blazoned with reverb guitar, and grime-like lyrics. It was a unique performance that nobody could peel their eyes away from.
I retreated briefly back to the market stage to check out Nice Girl. As a fan of Eden Burns, I had already unintentionally attended a Nice Girl gig in the past — the two being close friends, and frequent collaborators. Maybe it was the matchas (I’d had three by then), but I found myself hyperfixed watching her on the decks. She had an aura of nonchalance, paired with a mastery over the decks that proved mesmerising.
As far as international additions to a New Zealand lineup go, Kate Bollinger is an absolute coup. Sitting somewhere between Faye Webster and Julia Stone, Kate is probably one of the most underrated singer-songwriters on the circuit. Slack Agency knew this all too well, as they were also organising additional NZ and Australia dates, to spread her gospel. I arrived at the stage just before they kicked off and found myself enmeshed in a moshpit-wide game of hacky sack. Despite the lovely communal vibe, I had to leave the game as Kate came onto stage to make sure my attention was undivided. The band started off with ‘What’s This About (La La La La)’ off her recently released debut album Songs from A Thousand Frames of Mind. It is an incredible long-form debut, and I found myself reaching for the album for the next few weeks.
As the sun started to set, we were entering the business end of the night, as arguably Slackbarn’s biggest act Ninajirachi was about to step on stage down at the markets. I collected my camera and burst down the hill, incessant to catch the handover. As I arrived, I watched as Nina was greeted by local success story Messie, who met her with a warm embrace. A cheer went up around the crowd as Nina graced the stage. The energy was palpable as she warmed into her notoriously high-energy set. The markets were now genuinely packed and the stage, flanked on all sides with LED lights, was pulsating. Scanning across the crowd I saw euphoric faces, many I recognised, beaming back at me. Despite a burning desire to stay put and boogie on, I made the calculated decision to go check out Nic and Reuben who had just walked onto the main stage.
Earlier, while backstage, I bumped into Nic and Reuben and asked them how they were feeling getting back on stage after a reasonable hiatus. The pair said it had taken a lot of work to get the logistics sussed, but were brimming with anticipation to once again grace the stage. Wherever promoter Ben Morgan was at that time, I bet he too was brimming with anticipation. VMorg (as he is often known) is never shy of a nostalgia pick, it’s one of the things I most admire about Ben – he trusts his taste completely. Safe to say Ben should keep on trusting his taste, as Nic and Reuben thrilled the loose mosh with songs from their entire discography. I might have had some trepidation seeing an act like Nic and Reuben as closing ahead of bigger names such as Kate Bollinger, but seeing them in full flight it was clear they were the exact best act to close on the main stage.
As the band started to wind down, I once again sprinted back to the market stage. The crowd went wild as the intro to “Ipod Touch” started to burst through the speakers. Ninajirachi has some certified bangers and this for sure was one of them. The last moments of the Ninajirachi set were euphoric, and something I will take with me for a long time. As promoter Ben told me, with Coachella on her horizon, she will probably never play a set this intimately ever again.
And just like that, Slackbarn was over. As the last reverberations settled over the vineyard, I again surveyed the venue. Black Barn, now glistening with fairy lights, was stunning. I felt the yearning from before once again well up. This really was a festival sharing so much with painfully too few. As the streams of people from the main stage made their way back through the market, I realised that so many people had come in small groups. It made sense, Hawkes Bay is a long way to travel, and the lineup is curated in a way to appeal largely to the already initiated. Slackbarn #2 was truly a great festival — an experience thoughtfully curated with manaaki for everyone who entered through the gates — but whether there would be a Slackbarn #3 I couldn’t be sure. What I do know however, is that whatever comes next for Slack, it will come with that same thought and consideration for the people that enter through the door that made Slackbarn so great.