18/09/2025

Wunderhorse – Powerstation: September 17, 2025 (13th Floor Concert Review)

To the sound of Jumpin’ Jack Flash Wunderhorse take the stage. All sound and energy like a wave crashing in from the craggy coast of Cornwall. All four band members clothed in black and bathed in red light.

The solo project launched by songwriter and singer Jacob Slater in Newquay evolved into band in 2021. Worked as a surfing instructor and played the part of Sex Pistols’ drummer in a TV miniseries. Now two albums later and Tāmaki Makaurau is first stop on a fully sold out tour. Downunderhorse. Out of the gates and racing now.

Dropper

But first it’s power-pop outfit Dropper from Pōneke. Lead singer with low-slung guitar and a decent voice. T-shirts, swagger and youthful energy. Playing with all the passion that opening for an international touring band deserves. Pop and rock meet with melodies rising over driving drums and wall of guitar sound. Attentive crowd. A worthy opener.

Wunderhorse

Slater launches into opening song Midas like a man possessed. The relevance of genres like alternative and indie slip away as Wunderhorse charge on stage. So do comparisons. Yes, at times they suggest Fontaines DC and Pixies for raw energy; others Radiohead for moments of harmony and invention. But here tonight they are who they are. Equine power. A species to behold in awe.

With a jangle of guitars and primal yell from Slater it’s Butterflies from debut album Cub. Clamour cuts to quiet and with transporting moments. A glorious tangle of styles. Something that dwells in the liminal zone between creativity and chaos.

Massive drumming from Jamie Staples. Yearning vocals from Slater. Good to meet you, he offers in greeting before quick segue into Emily. Tunes his guitar on the fly, as drumming continues. Straight into Girl Behind the Glass. All three axemen in high-octane action. Slater’s frantic pump-action strum looking like he’ trying to start a lawnmower.

A friendly head-butt to bassist Seb Byford gets the front-of-stage folk jumping to Cathedral. Slow build of verses with tumultuous chorus. Intensity of feeling in the lyrics and melody converging in light, sound and bodily movement. Almost performance art.

Girl begins as a whisper, builds to a wail. Harmonies fly over the jangle of country-flavoured guitar. Then Leader of the Pack has an extended jam build up to a sudden change in pace and volume. Slater embodies the chaotic changes by sudden crouched shimmies across the stage. A flash of Crazy Horse on steroids. The poppiness of a da-de-da-de-da vocals over a crashing tsunami of sound. And Arizona offers a bit of desert noir. Bathed in red, guitar wail almost a coyote’s cry.

Before Purple Slater comments I don’t like this song. Raw honesty maybe. That obligation to keep playing a song people love but which you’ve moved on from. The horse has bolted. A new album, new single; The Rope is the gusto that follows.

Siren-like opening feedback of July and that’s that. Back for a thunderous Rain as encore. And we’re out: One hour and seven minutes. Short but no one feels short- changed.

After fourteen songs at this intensity, they’ll be mopping the sweat off the stage floor. Astonishing. Simply Wunderful.

Robin Kearns

Click on any image to view a photo gallery by Chris Warne:

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