Lachie Hayes – Subsatellite (Massav) (13th Floor Album Review)
Southland’s own Lachie Hayes returns with his long-awaited sophomore album Subsatellite, released today—and it’s clear from the first track that the alt-country-blues troubadour has leveled up: in storytelling, in sound, and in soul.
Lachie’s roots are as deep as the southern soil he hails from. Raised in Tokanui and now based in the Catlins, his music reflects a life shaped by wind-whipped hill country, a tight-knit rural community, and a lineage of music-makers stretching back generations. His songs have always carried the dust of old roads and the echo of saloon brawls, but Subsatellite adds a newfound confidence and cinematic polish without losing the grit.
Produced by revered music luminary Delaney Davidson, and recorded at MASSAV Studios in Invercargill, the album bears the fingerprints of collaborators who know how to distill sonic character from the land. Co-produced by Blair Savory, engineered by Tahne Brown, and driven by Delaney’s distinctive Lyttelton sound, Subsatellite is raw and resonant—every shaker, guitar lick, and breath captured with clarity and heart. In fact, these recordings led to the birth of MASSAV Records, who signed Hayes as their first artist—a signal moment in this songwriter’s rising career.
Subsatellite features the well-received rollout singles that kicked off this absorbing musical voyage—from the haunting melancholy of This River, to the brooding, poetic grit of S.O.B., and the warm, rockabilly-swamp blues of the title track, Subsatellite. These tracks serve as pillars in a record that builds on them with ambition and intent.
Right from opener The Likes of You, Lachie launches into his signature narrative style—a laid-back diss track with sly, proud venom. You can almost picture him tipping his hat before walking away from the drama.
Then there’s Foot Stompin Boogie, a five-minute western barroom fantasy complete with harmonica solos and what sounds like a vintage cassette mix. It’s not just a song—it’s a whole saloon showdown. On Convict Gun, he channels his inner Dylan, picking up the pace and swagger, pulling from Americana roots while keeping the stories rooted firmly in Aotearoa.
Ballads like Lonesome Hearted Lovers and This River show Lachie’s emotional range. The latter, with its shimmering guitar lines and restrained power, may be the album’s most quietly devastating track.
S.O.B brings a harder, darker edge. Born in the wake of the COVID lockdowns, it unpacks fractured friendships, online disillusionment, and anger born of isolation. Lachie calls it “a lament… about the consequences of isolation in an age of hyper-connectivity. It’s about raggedy-looking, lonesome-hearted, evil sons of bitches—the ones who slip through the cracks.”
The album also shines in its collaborations. Kayla Mahon’s voice adds a soft yet yearning power to Fire in My Heart, while Oscar LaDell’s falsetto on Easy to Fall for You pulls listeners deep into blues territory. That song, in particular, is all sting and soul—its electric guitar swagger makes it one of the album’s most memorable.
King of the Night Out on the Tiles delivers wry, woozy charm—a tale of shame, shots, and sheepish grins—while Woman That Tamed the Devil ends the album with an adrenaline-pulsing stomp, all rhythm and drive.
What binds Subsatellite together is its cinematic cohesion. Thematically and sonically, it holds a consistent mood—each track a scene in a larger story, many with beat changes or subtle outros that act like filmic fades. And while the lyrics never plant us in a specific town or time, the spirit of Aotearoa’s deep south is unmistakable.
But beyond the music, the philosophy behind the record deserves attention. Lachie explains:
“A subsatellite is an undiscovered, yet theoretically possible celestial object… not at the centre of the solar system, not even a satellite of a main player… far from the brightest and biggest.
But that doesn’t mean it’s insignificant. Sometimes, here in the deep south of New Zealand, I find myself in a similar position. We may be far from the bright lights… but we’re alive, we’re ambitious, and we’re ready to prove it.”
That ethos—of being on the fringe, yet full of fire—is the true engine behind Subsatellite. In this record, Hayes offers a compelling argument that small towns and overlooked places have stories worth telling—and talent worth hearing.
As Lachie puts it: “Some of the characters that are sung about are heroes, some are evil, others are just somewhere in between – and the rest are people that are not good or bad. They just are.” That human honesty courses through every track.
In Lachie Hayes, we find a storyteller who merges grit and grace, a musician grounded in place yet pushing the boundaries of genre. With Subsatellite, he not only defines a new sound but helps chart a new musical frontier for the deep south.
Look out for Lachie Hayes touring later this year—because this subsatellite is definitely in orbit.
Azrie Azizi
Subsatellite is released today. PURCHASE VINYL FROM OFFICIAL WEBSITE HERE
