Live at Paraoa brewing Co.
31 October 2025
Live Review by Music Journalist: Paul Marshall
Tadpole Resurface and Reign: 25 Years On, The Buddhafinger Still Hits Harder Than Ever.
There are nights when a venue becomes less of a location and more of a battleground: guitars, drums, vocals all taking arms and charging the air. And tonight, at Parāoa Brewing Co. on the windswept Hibiscus Coast, we came for a Halloween bill but left a full-blown rock massacre. The marquee headliner was Tadpole, but the evening’s DNA was sewn deep in the support: solo grit, avant‐garage, hometown heroes, culminating with the group that once shook Kiwi rock.
First up: Danny Raskal
Danny hit the “open” button on what would be a hefty night. Solo, on guitar and vocals, always a risk when you're better known for the band full of noise, but Danny made it count. His voice cut like smoke through the fog; raw, yet present. I caught echoes of older rock men style, the kind of half-empty bar and solitary guitar feel, but his playing immediately shook that vibe and turned it into something muscular.
The venue unfortunately empty, those trick-or-treaters who’d darted out for candy beforehand were now slinking back in, slowly, and Danny made them pay attention. Solo sets are always hard to land in a multi-bill rock night, but he landed.
Second act: Fax Machine
Cue the shift to full band, and things got interesting. The singer’s opening line “We send you messages on a phone” set the tone for a set where tech, analog, and spectacle collided.
One of their songs with The hook “Pushing the Wi-Fi bleaching your hair” (or similar) was a standout: modern life as a distortion pedal.
What made this set: the singer lying on her back with arms and legs in the air (a performance flourish called The Dying Fly, taken from the 70s Saturday morning UK kids TV show Tiswas, though I doubt she knew that reference) and still belting out screaming parts with precision. Heavy electric textures, effects-laden bass and guitar, head-banging full throttle.
Hometown heroes: Rumpus Machine (Whangaparāoa)
A local band carrying hometown stakes and tonight they owned them. From the first downbeat, there was a tension hanging in the air, that rare, electric sense that something could happen, and if it did, you’d want to say you were there. And then it did. Every riff, every vocal line, every harmony carried that spark between youthful hunger and professional polish. You could almost feel the band’s pulse sync with the crowd’s.
Rumpus Machine are still local, for now. But what’s clear after tonight is that Whangaparāoa might not be able to contain them much longer. They’ve got the songs, the chops, and that rare chemistry that separates bands from acts. You can bet they’ll be headlining beyond these shores before long.
Until then, those of us lucky enough to be in the room tonight can claim bragging rights: we saw them first.
And finally… Tadpole
When the lights dimmed and the stage bathed in yellow, you could feel a shift. Tadpole didn’t just arrive, they detonated. From the first note, the crowd knew this was the set they’d been waiting for.
Lauren’s vocals were impeccable from song one, confident, wide open, and commanding. The band were hot, the engine already revving before they pulled in to gear. “Alright” began with the cool intro that seeped into the song and let the tension build, then release. DJ Kritikl (yes, the turntable maestro still alive and kicking) brought a fresh dynamic, his fills landing like grenades, adding a edge to the rock foundation.
Highlight after highlight:
Dino (on drums) smashing them with crisp precision, it was human, raw, the backbone and glue that every band needs. Chris, dressed head-to-toe in red (think Mario Brother on heat), tore through guitar lines that slapped with attitude. “Music Box Live” was a revelation, even more powerful than its studio counterpart, radiating swagger, muscle, and unapologetic intensity.
The crowd went wild when the band dropped the news, they’ve just landed the No. 1 spot in New Zealand this week. A full-circle victory lap for a band that never lost its spark. Tonight’s show isn’t just another gig; it’s the 25th-anniversary celebration of The Buddhafinger, their breakout debut from way back in 2000. The fact that, a quarter-century later, that same record has clawed its way back to the top of the charts says everything, these songs haven’t aged a day, and neither has the fire behind them.
Then came an unreleased track: new, yet steeped in their signature DNA, a nod to their past while boldly signalling what’s next. Mid-set, the guys ducked out for what they half-jokingly called a “piss break,” leaving Lauren to take centre stage solo. Her acoustic renditions of “Condition Chronic” (from The Medusa) and Wheatus’s “Teenage Dirtbag” were tender, heartfelt, and revealed a different, soulful dimension to the band’s sound.
What tied it all together was the precision: Dino locked in the pocket, his drumming tying the sampling threads perfectly. Chris and the rest charged ahead, yet always on time. For a band with legacy, tonight they weren’t living off past glories, they were creating the momentum of now.
If you came out for “just a Halloween gig”, you got far more. A trio of support acts who warmed and primed the audience; then a headliner who didn’t just perform, but owned the night. Tadpole showed that a re-formation isn’t nostalgia, it can be evolution. The new stuff hints at their future; the old songs remind you of their roots. For fans of Kiwi rock history, for lovers of real live performance, this was the show.
Reviewer: Paul Marshall
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