bReview: MĀ & The Fly Hunnies
Thursday 3 April 2025 at Big Fan
Words by Nicholas Lindstrom
Photography by Molly McLennan
“An artist’s duty, as far as I’m concerned, is to reflect the times.” Those are the words that the luminary Nina Simone spoke during a 1960s interview. Welcome to 2025, a time in which rampant sectarianism driven by disinformation has created a climate of denial. A time in which scientific facts about cataclysmic climate change can be successfully challenged by pseudo-intellectual opinion. I do not envy the artists who have to approach the ostensibly Sisyphean task of combating climate denial through their art. But it can be done. Te Whanganui-a-Tara based artist MĀ tackles the seemingly insurmountable topic of climate change on her sophomore album Blame It On The Weather (BIOTW). On a fittingly stormy night in Tāmaki Makaurau, MĀ and her band, The Fly Hunnies, kicked off their BIOTW tour with a show at Morningside’s Big Fan. I was eager to see how the kaupapa-driven anthems that had been on heavy rotation in my headphones would translate to a live show.
Avondale’s very own spdrtwnbby began the night’s proceedings. Her opening cover of the Bee Gee’s 1977 hit ‘How Deep Is Your Love’ added soulful seasonings of melanated bliss that enhanced a song I had previously relegated to the realm of day-time throwback radio. Matched with her inherent vocal talent, the singer’s understated stage presence was instantly endearing. At one point, she joked that she “felt naked” without her backing band, but her vocals were more than enough on their own. A perpetual smile graced my face as I watched spdrtwnbby win the crowd over with her mix of original songs and tasteful covers. Consider the stage well and truly warmed.
(spdrtwnbby at Big Fan / Photo: Molly McLennan)
MĀ’s band, ‘The Fly Hunnies’, were given equal billing on the BIOTW tour poster. A mark of the respect that the front-woman has for her band. The current iteration of The Fly Hunnies is comprised of Louisa Williamson (Sax & BVs), Maioha Hotere (Guitar & BVs), Jason Rapana (Bass), Hikurangi Schaverien-Kaa (Drums), Maioha Hotere (Guitar & BV’s), Leonardo Coghini (Keys), Hayden Afele-Nickel (Viola) & Eisai August (Percussion). The symbiosis of bandleader and band goes beyond the live arena, with the supremely talented Coghini being credited as a producer on several BIOTW tracks. Every beautiful sonic nuisance that I enjoy on the recorded version of BIOTW was respected in the live performance. This assemblage of Wellington’s finest musicians provided the mellifluous canvas upon which MĀ mapped out the narrative that underpins BIOTW.
During the day, MĀ, a self-dubbed “bush-maintainer”, works as a biodiversity ranger on the frontlines of the battle to preserve the climate. Tonight, MĀ ditched her usual work uniform of high-vis, wet weather boots and fluffy socks for a white tank-top and black leather pants. Despite this, the artist made sure to articulate just how much she loves what she does. Her song ‘Mahi’ serves as an ode to her day job. The live performance of the track was both a love letter to tradies and a flex of the artist's ability to translate the high-speed verses of ‘Mahi’ to the live arena. The allusions to her climate-focused work continued in the narrational song ‘Traps Jam’ The live performance accentuated the effect of the track’s shifts between the perspectives of an invasive possum and a native bird. This lyrical back and forth left me feeling a new kind of sympathy for the humble possum, leaving me questioning the morality of my own fluffy socks. As the artist told the audience through her wry smile, “I made this one for the possums, because they were brought here, it’s not their fault.”
(MĀ & The Fly Hunnies at Big Fan / Photo: Molly McLennan)
As the progeny of two of the finest artists from Aotearoa, MĀ is no stranger to activism through art. BIOTW is an inherently political record, with the album’s second track serving as its most overt political statement. The live performance of ‘Pūhā me te Porohewa’ felt like a sonic middle finger to the contentious coalition government. Each tohutō was drawn out to its fullest extent. The double vowel sounds delivered with piercing disdain, accentuating the delightfully sardonic nature of ‘Pūhā me te Porohewa’. ‘Colonised Bro’, a song that did not end up making the final tracklist for BIOTW, showed a more empathetic and optimistic edge to the activist/artist. Delivering a message of defiance through the reclamation of culture and return to one’s whenua.
(MĀ & The Fly Hunnies at Big Fan / Photo: Molly McLennan)
MĀ’s signature sunglasses reminded me of the similar stylings of Country star Roy Orbisin. A comparison that transcends the aesthetic. Both artists have had intimate dealings with grief. MĀ’s 2021 album Breakfast With Hades explored grief at its most potent proximity, and Blame It On The Weather respects that heritage. The emotional focal point of the album is undoubtedly ‘Miss U’. During the song’s performance, the artist’s hand hovered over her stomach, translating the guttural agony of grief into a somatically affectual masterpiece. The song’s ebbs and flows were reminiscent of the chronic pain of losing a loved one, it may feel more or less potent at times, but it never goes away. The live performance of the song illuminated the healing nature of its message. Yes, it is a lamentation of a love lost but it’s also a powerful statement of everlasting friendship. When MĀ held the mic out for a call and response, a room full of people chanted back, “I really love you bro”, expressing the connection as love in the present tense. While Breakfast With Hades was a representation of raw emotion, Blame It On The Weather displays a more measured approach, with songs like ‘Tīhei’ creating space for a breather. Featured artist Jordyn with a Why joined MĀ on stage for the song's performance, doubling the track’s emotional resonance with her captivating vocals.
MĀ’s carved bone necklace hovered at heart level, a symbol of the artist's connection to te taiao. The searching questions of the album’s lead single, ‘Decay’, are an expression of the ubiquity of climate anxiety amongst the younger generation. An anxiety that MĀ acknowledged, telling the audience that she “thinks about this all the time.” On the album’s title track, MĀ acknowledges the people of the east coast, for whom climate anxiety manifested into real destruction. Fans of the recorded version will be pleased to know that the verse of Oglala Lakota artist Mato Wayuhi was not omitted from the live performance, with MĀ taking kaitiakitanga over the emphatic bars. Sprinkled amongst these heavier themes are precious little pockets of humour. The track ‘Hoki Atu Mate’ was a light-hearted diss-track to invasive fauna, the type of invasive fauna that the artist “stalks” as a part of her day job. On the sultry track ‘Papa’s Song’, the artist takes her relationship with Papatūānuku to the next level, as she told us before she performed the song with full lasciviousness, “this one is a bit of a naughty one”.
BIOTW is not just MĀ reflecting the times. It is the artist holding up a big fucking mirror. But the live performance proved that the album’s message isn't intended to be a sermon. It was a stage, not a soapbox. Both BIOTW and its live performance have a humanist tilt. There is a meticulousness with which the artist takes care of her audience. This care was evident in the encore track, ‘Rere Cruise’, which the artist described as a way to “whakanoa” the heaviness of the other tracks, ending with a triumphant interpolation of Jill Scott’s anthemic song ‘Golden’. MĀ managed to transfix the audience without separating herself from us. She held our hands through every minute of the hour-long set, guiding us through each song with cheeky anecdotes. Climate change feels insurmountable, especially in today’s fast-paced media landscape, and the topic often takes a back seat to more immediate issues. BIOTW and its resultant tour actively combat that, providing a space to acknowledge climate change and feel less alone in our existential anxiety.
(MĀ & The Fly Hunnies at Big Fan / Photo: Molly McLennan)