Live at The Powerstation
25 March 2025
Live Review by Music Journalist: Paul Marshall
继北美、欧洲、英国、日本之后，Miserable Faith「The World Will Be Better」海外巡演即将开启澳洲之行，
When you’ve toured China over 25 times, played countless gigs there, and witnessed some of the country’s most iconic rock bands live, you might think you’ve seen it all. But tonight, there’s something different. In the dark, pulsating heart of Auckland’s Powerstation, Chinese rock band Miserable Faith (痛仰乐队) commands the stage with a fervour I didn’t anticipate. While I've heard their music and been skeptical of their self-proclaimed "rock" title, I walk in with an open mind, ready to experience whatever musical revelation this night promises.
Formed in 1999, Miserable Faith has been the cornerstone of China’s indie rock movement, their sound a blend of emotional rawness, defiance, and sonic experimentation. But in the West, where rock’s definition is often shaped by the mainstream gloss of pop-influenced acts like Matchbox 20 and Coldplay, “rock” can sometimes feel like an elastic term. In China, however, it’s a movement of rebellion against the status quo. For Miserable Faith, rock is punk. It’s an anti-establishment vehicle, a voice for the unheard. Tonight’s performance affirms this.
Walking into the venue, it’s clear this is more than just a show—it’s a gathering of community. A sea of Chinese faces fills the room, the energy electric. I’m the only westerner in sight, but there’s no sense of being an outsider. The crowd is a mosaic of twenty- and thirty-somethings, with fans of all ages flocking in, carrying banners, waving flags, and flashing lights. It’s a raucous yet respectful assembly, and as the lights dim, the room’s collective anticipation rises like a tidal wave.
The six-piece band, comprising of Singer - Gao Hu (高虎), Guitar - Song Jie (宋捷), Guitar - Tian Ran (田然), Bass - Zhang Jing (张静), Harmonica - Qi Jing (齐静) and Drums - Chi Gongwei (遅功偉) were augmented by three female backing vocalists, bursts onto the stage. Gao Hu, the charismatic frontman, instantly takes control with his commanding presence and rough-edged vocals, his voice a gritty instrument that conveys both vulnerability and defiance. He wastes no time launching into their set, pulling the audience into the emotional depths of Miserable Faith’s anthems. And it’s clear: this band is a force, blending a wild mix of musical genres that leave Western definitions of rock in the dust.
Imagine blending ska, reggae, swing, country, and soft rock in one heady concoction. Add a pinch of punk’s rebellious spirit, a dash of brass, and an occasional nod to New Pants and Queen Sea Big Shark, and you’re somewhere close to understanding the sonic palette Miserable Faith employs. It’s not exactly the tight, virtuosic musicianship of some Western acts, but it’s deliberate. The music’s raw power and emotional honesty far outweigh any technical shortcomings.
The crowd’s energy is palpable, especially during their hit song "Jambo." The track bursts with the unmistakable vibe of a classic Two-Tone anthem, as if it were lifted straight from the UK's vibrant 80s scene. Fans, phones aloft, capture every moment, their enthusiasm unwavering. At one point, the energy swells so high that a male fan is pulled onto the stage to sing alongside the band, prompting raucous applause from the captivated crowd. It’s an intimate moment, bridging the gap between performer and audience, an integral part of Miserable Faith’s deeply communal live experience.
Throughout the set, the lighting complements the mood perfectly—shifting from deep blues, reflecting the melancholic undertones of their music, to fiery reds and whites during the more explosive moments. The video screen behind the band also becomes a key visual element, its dynamic images matching the energy onstage, adding a cinematic feel to the experience.
But just when the night reaches its emotional peak, things take an unexpected turn. Gao Hu, taking a moment to connect with the crowd, asks a fan, “How do you greet people in New Zealand?” The answer: "Ki Ora." And, in a charmingly awkward attempt, Gao Hu tries to pronounce it, his mangled version sending the crowd into fits of laughter. It’s an icebreaker, but it also humanises the band, making the whole experience feel less like a performance and more like an exchange.
Then comes the unthinkable. After the band delivers some powerful tracks, the audience was left in a daze. Moments earlier, Gao Hu had shared his admiration for Bob Marley's music and its influence on him. He then launched into a heartfelt a capella rendition of Marley’s iconic Everything's Gonna Be Alright, accompanied by one of the female backing singers. Unfortunately, rather than hitting the mark, the performance felt flat. Gao Hu and his ensemble’s attempt at the beloved track was far from stellar it was, quite frankly, one of the worst live renditions I’ve ever heard, even accounting for their use of the pentatonic scale. As the final notes faded, they walked off stage, leaving behind the most anti-climactic exit I’ve ever witnessed. The audience’s reaction was telling, with only a few scattered “golf claps” and some even leaving the room entirely, leaving the venue with a sense of bewilderment hanging in the air.
But the night isn’t over yet. The crowd won’t let it end on that sour note. With stomping feet and chants for an encore, Miserable Faith returns to reclaim the night. They close with a blistering set of four more songs, restoring their pride and redeeming themselves from the misstep. The energy is palpable, and by the time they leave the stage for good, the crowd is finally satisfied.
After the show, the air outside is thick with cigarette smoke, as older fans linger and light up in numbers, a social custom in China that offers a stark contrast to New Zealand’s no-smoking culture. In China, offering cigarettes is an act of friendship and respect a subtle reminder of the cultural chasm between the two nations.
Miserable Faith may not fit the typical Western rock mould, but their authenticity and emotional depth shine through in their live performance. They aren’t just a band they’re a movement. And whether you’re a fan of their unique sound or not, you can’t deny the power of what they do: a raw, passionate expression of resilience and hope. It’s rock, but not as we know it.
Reviewer: Paul Marshall
Photography by Paul Marshall
WATCH THE LIVE VIDEO at Paul Was There -