Returning to their home turf after making their mark in indie scenes, internationally showcasing their highly regarded first album, The Beths bring the love home to a crowd of adoring fans at The Hollywood Avondale.
With the release of their critically acclaimed debut album Future Me Hates Me, Auckland four-piece The Beths immediately began forming ripples beyond the shores of Aotearoa. Named by Pitchfork as one of the best indie-rock debut albums of the year and receiving praise from a number of major international music platforms, The Beths have been working tirelessly to satisfy the appetites of newfound fans the world over. Fresh off the back of touring their debut album internationally, The Beths brought their music home to The Hollywood Avondale for two intimate nights of celebration.
The gig opens with a set from local city-pop aficionado A.C. Freazy (Alex Freer) and his ensemble. From behind a slick transparent drum kit, Freer lures the crowd into a boppy set of shimmery synths, dance drums, and charmingly nonchalant vocals. Showcasing a range of rhythmic styles in the beat-driven set, Freer reminds us why these became classics in the first place – cool, charismatic, and nostalgic, Freer gets the crowd into a grooving state of mind. With two songs to go in his set, he brings out the most recent addition to The Beths: drummer Tristan Deck, who slides into the ensemble and keeps the party alive. Out from behind the kit, Freer seems a little unsure of his place in the music. It’s a testament to his craft that he truly is one with the instruments he uses to generate his dream sound, but it ends the set with the crowd itching for a little more.
Fortunately, we’re about to get everything we hoped for.
The Beths are greeted to a rapturous applause. Singer and songwriter Elizabeth Stokes kicks off the set with ‘You Wouldn’t Like Me’. Immediately the hands go up from every fan in the crowd, and we clap along as much out of our enthusiasm for the track as our sheer excitement for welcoming The Beths home.
As the show builds, the crowd begins to loosen up after the cool and collected opening act. The Beths are endearingly awkward, and at the heart of their stage banter is a sweetness that we have come to recognise as something that manifests uniquely among artists in Aotearoa. There is nothing arrogant in the delivery of their music, but their modesty is no barrier to their enthusiasm. The Beths take ownership of the stage with a glow of appreciation for the crowd. ‘Uptown Girl’ shakes the hardwood floors of the theatre as guitarist Jonathan Pierce wrangles with the song’s angsty, punchy hook. From across the stage, Benjamin Sinclair smacks out the deceptively complex baselines that carry the rest of the band through the set. Deck can’t suppress a beaming smile as he comes to life behind the drums.
Pretention is a foreign concept here tonight. The Beths are a loveable troupe of neighbourly misfits carving out their space in our corner of the world. Their authenticity is undeniable. They couldn’t inflate their egos if they tried. Instead what we see are four friends, lifted to something of a special joy tonight by the support of a crowd who is driven by gratitude.
With each new song the crowd maintains its gaze up toward the stage, singing the songs word for word back to the musicians that are bringing the soundtrack of our lives to life. Everyone is dancing with plenty of space in the homely venue, and our inhibitions dissolve away as we see the band unleash a celebration of sound upon us. ‘Whatever’ bursts out from the stage and Stokes looks up to the balcony of the theatre. She catches the eye of someone in the crowd and a loving smile breaks out across her face as she sings through a song that makes us all proud. John Campbell and Jessie Mulligan are losing their minds at the back of the theatre.
We are treated to three new tracks throughout the night. The first, ‘Not Getting Excited’, delivers a more feisty and confrontational hook than we’ve heard so far. Stokes’ voice bubbles over a jangling guitar, following a more complex melody over an impressive octave range. She’s not pulling any punches with her technique or her musicianship. The set closes but the crowd hasn't had their fix, and the excited demands of an encore are greeted by one last track, ‘Little Death’, which sets the crowd alight. The Beths might be on stage, but they’re one with the crowd tonight and they sway and tumble across the stage to give us all the show we have been craving. But we’re not here to be mind blown. We’re here to be grounded.
This is the true joy of seeing The Beths perform. They are not here to impress us beyond belief, to show us something we could never dream of being, or to blind us with awe. They’re here to show us that out of the millions of bands on the go around the world right now, there’s only one of them, and it came from our community, and it sounds like us, and it feels like us, and it’s for us. Through their sound and delivery, The Beths produce a sense of locality that has been at the heart of our shared identity in Aotearoa and yet is so rarely executed so successfully. Despite many of the songs orientating around personal experiences, relationships, and feelings, their sound also reflects the idiosyncrasies of living in the littlest big city in the world. Their music speaks to the experiences and sensibilities of the crowd as unique, special, and worth commemorating. And in a time where all the worldly music we could possibly imagine is at our fingertips, what a joy it is to be a part of something so distinctly us. The Beths came home, and so did we. How could we ever thank them enough.
Images Thanks to Connor Crawford
Words Thanks to Ali Nicholls
