14 Mar 2024 // A review by Tom Langdale-Hunt
From recent years and escapades, it’s fair to say that DARTZ have come a long way from writing about their disdain for scorched almonds and the habitability of a dingey Riddiford Street flat. The Band from Wellington, New Zealand have secured themselves as a shared-household name and champions for the plight of the everyday kiwi with songs like Steal from the Supermarket hammering home nationwide frustration over a duopoly ripping New Zealanders off for basic essentials in exchange for record profits, and perhaps, most memorably, the hilariously justified mockery of a certain South Auckland-based church head drilling his flock for tithings to fund his Tesla S Series in Pray for Prey.

Dangerous Day To Be A Cold One appears as a return to an earlier form of DARTZ, stepping away from the political attitudes they have become more well-known for. Whether this is something their dedicated audiences will appreciate lies with each individual listener, but there can be no denying that the album is not lost on its uncompromising wit and relatability. From the pacing mantras of Earn the Thirst to the unexpectedly warm fuzzies on Golden Hour, the bands sophomore album is an anthemic testament to their progression as artists who love where they come from and will seemingly never run out of inspiration from the everyday life it affords.

We may just have been graced with the greatest ‘sports-rock’ anthem ever made in Earn the Thirst. I can’t think of any better way to begin an album that inspires smashing cold ones than to preach the body positivity and physical mahi required for the pleasure to do so. Sporting a vastly improved production quality, every instrument, breakdown, chant, and rousing message is as unfaltering as the boy's determination to highlight that, while they may have made headlines for playing four cities in 12 hours in honour of Crate Day, the “beers come second, body comes first”. This will be a banger live, and I would suggest walking to the venue to get a head start on the calorie burner now that you’ll have re-considered your Uber subscription.

This ownership of oneself and actions segways nicely into the picturesque beach-banger, Paradise which hinges on the bands distaste for the gentrification of once humble beach towns, with property developers and landlords taking the place of actual hard-working locals. Bathing in the irony that the land has essentially been stolen twice now, the boys stamp their unapologetic presence to any region in similar peril with this Kiwiana tune that demands us to unashamedly declare “I’m a piece of shit in paradise” in order to wake up from this investor-infested fever dream.

On the albums' title track, you’ll be sure to think twice about throwing shade at that roadworks attendant. The image of the working man in the blistering sun vs. the slightly inconvenienced motorist has always been contentious, but with a driving bass line from Clark and droning, distorted guitars, the sheer vexation and ache of dehydration is felt with a surprising amount of anger. The track is reminiscent of The Chats’ viral sensation Smoko, but the sheer possibility of being in the firing line between a physical labourer and their beer(s) elevates this slapper of a song to a kind of warning. DARTZ assure you that you’ll never be more afraid to be a box of Lion Brown.

Release after release, the boys prove that they are dedicated to upping their game in every avenue of their music. The Panama-esque riffs, pick slides, and tapping solos of Gender Reveal Burnout affirm my opinion that Eddie Van Halen is alive. The shortest piece, and for me, the highlight of the record, is the tight, brief, yet enormous Flat Inspection, furthering the boys excellent playing. It’s a callback to the 40 Riddiford Street days, with images painted of a neglectful landlord hoisted on their own petard through gut-busting lyrics delivered within even more catchy melodies, another ripping guitar solo, and finely tuned floor-toms, conveying their decent down their own rickety staircase.

From that fateful first gig as the opener for The Chats, I have always considered DARTZ to be a masterclass in marketing and band identity. Frontman, Danz, not only furthers the groups presence with his raunchy humour and distinctive tone, but with his unique brand of graphic design. You would be hard pressed to find someone in Te Whanganui-A-Tara who hasn’t seen his iconic work as ‘Yeehawtheboys’, dishing out side-splitting satire, as well as highlighting fresh talent and imperative social issues. The design for the album’s physical release sports variations of cover art and coloured vinyl, but Dangerous Day To Be A Cold One takes this marketing to the next level with their ‘Cost of Living’ variant consisting of crudely drawn doodles on a plain white sleeve with standard, unmarked black vinyl. Along with this being one of the funniest fucking things I’ve ever seen, it underlines what makes DARTZ so special and conscious of their target audiences and beyond. It’s a completely different form of satire underscoring social realities.

The boys never fail to deliver in their hilarious narratives; tales from Aotearoa of great familiarity (and occasional notoriety). Bush Weed is the ripping account of "an entrepreneurial uncle using his employment as a DOC park ranger to run a profitable side-hustle", while Get In On The Groundfloor proves that not even schoolmates from their beloved Paeroa College are safe from the lampooning of their influencer/pyramid-scheming ways.

In Mr. X, the ridicule takes on a rightfully irked attitude towards bribery name suppression that is so often afforded exclusively to privileged individuals of the white male variety in the music industry. The resentment for such people abusing their power in local scenes that are meant to harmoniously bring us closer is mirrored by the fury of the track. It's possibly the heaviest tune they've done, with synced, fuzzed up bass and guitar lines that cut through the message like a chainsaw, making way for Danz's angry jabs. It's an important stance to convey, especially amongst the fun of the entire project, underscoring a condemnation that needs to be echoed from every corner of the industry.

The release of the albums second single Learning To Drive With Dad did much to lay down the benchmark of what was to come. With yet another chaotic, merry music video to accompany the tracks deranged pandemonium, we’re thrusted into the spectacle of it all; the 12-year-old boy hooning down the highway with his inebriated father and AC/DC turned up to 11. Crispy lays down some rapid, sliding, delayed guitar lines that zoom through the tune like a pub-bound, swerving '86 Ford. The songs ferocity, paced by some especially mega fills from Rollyz, lends itself to this warped edition of father-son bonding time - a tribute to every kid thrown into the deep end by a parent who doesn't quuiiiite grasp how to connect with them. The standout feature of the song, and perhaps the whole album, is the (apparently, hastily assembled) chorus of preschoolers caroling away under the boys’ thumping lines. They sound overjoyed to be involved in the piece and blissfully unaware of the shocking things Danz says alongside them. It puts Aeroplane to shame.

Having the sun go down on the album in a surprisingly poignant manner is the best possible testament to what the boys mean to one another, and that's exactly what we get in Golden Hour. The song is a love letter to their connection, and evidence that the warmth the four-piece feel for each other has only grown. It's a jangly, cheerful, almost pop tune that paints a simple, yet priceless moment of DARTZ finding the perfect spot or time to share together, only to have achieved it in every one that they spend together. Their writing process, as they describe, is to get in a room together, get on the beers, wait until someone says something funny, then write it down. I can only imagine the jovial energy that is involved in this. To be around a group of witty lads who make records out of just spinning yarns and ideas, and who, by all accounts, are very obvious in the endearment that they share could only be a monument of artistry and wholesomeness that Te Whanganui-A-Tara should be proud of.

DARTZ is the band from Wellington, New Zealand. Formed in 2019, DARTZ ignited into being after singer Danz talked his way into an opening slot for Aussie rockers The Chats before realising he might need a band (and songs). Quickly assembling in a Wellington flat, the rabble-rousing quartet started to fire out their unique brand of snappy and intelligent party punk tunes, with influences rooted in the boozy anthemic Kiwi pub rock of yesteryear as well as modern punk freneticism and landlord-induced anxieties.

Three years on, the DARTZ boys have carved out their own lane in Aotearoa's music scene, with a diehard nationwide fanbase enamoured by their high-energy and rark-heavy live set, forceful singalong choruses, and razor-sharp lyrics which tackle everything from challenging colonisers to a fistfight in 1 Outs Captain Cook, to a drug safety PSA for festival-goers in Bathsalts, to ridiculing the moneymania of megachurch pastors in Pray for Prey.

Described as New Zealand's "politically aware class clowns with a reputation for bringing the party wherever they appear" in a recent New Zealand Herald article naming them one of the country's 10 future music stars to watch, DARTZ are Crispy on guitar, Clark on bass, Rollyz on drums and Danz on the shouts.

Visit the muzic.net.nz Profile for DARTZ

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