Miss June’s new single Twitch stays true to the four piece’s stripped back DIY nature while offering flecks of pop tendencies that the band previously avoided with onus. In their upcoming album, frontwoman Annabel Liddell processes her own med school experiences, like her first time cutting open a living breathing bod.

I called Annabel days after she finished her studies. She graciously stepped away from the Hamilton Bay sunshine to chat about life, music, and skate tricks.

T: Per your Instagram, I see that you’ve just finished med school.

A: Yea it is cool. It’s been a long time. 6 years.

T: To be in a band and also finishing med school – that’s incredible. How was the band-school-work-life balance for you?

A: I guess music is something that’s been present in my life since I was about eight. And so it’s always been something that I’ve done, and I guess it’s the same for education. I sort of come from a family that really prioritised taking educational opportunities if you can get them and so I sort – yea I got into med school when I was 18 and at that point, I had already played in a few bands and Miss June was just sort of starting up. And so we released an EP sort of in my 1^st year of med school and then we tour it my 2^nd year and really the last few years have just been writing recording and mixing our album. Which has kind of been a tactical move on my behalf because uni has been, by year, increasingly more and more time strenuous, and I guess writing this album and doing all of that has sort of been my oasis away from studying and working. In a way, it’s worked really great, but it definitely has gotten to a crunch point this year where we gotta release this album and I’ve gotta take some time away from it.

T: How would you say that the sound in Twitch differs from your previous album?

A: I think “Matriarchy EP” was a very fundamentally fast punk album a lot of the songs I had written when I was a bit younger maybe 17. Whereas Twitch is getting back to a lot more of my influences musically. A lot of the guitar tones are inspired by a lot of early New Zealand musicians but a lot of the songwriting is sort of based off of, sort of Breeders, Sonic Youth, and actually Wheezer’s new alum was a huge influence on this album I don’t know I guess returning to poppier song structure. Which I’ve really come to accept because I use to reject pop hugely but I realise there’s actually a lot of fun to be had.

T: I especially loved your lyrics. It seems like your passing on bits of wisdom from your own experiences.

A: Yea I write quite honestly through all our songs. And I think, in some tracks on the album, it’s been a good opportunity for me to explore some of the things I’ve done in my degree which I don’t really get the chance to talk about that often.

T: Could you speak to some of those experiences?

A: That song [Twitch] was about the first time I operated on a living person, which for me was a really existential crisis sort of moment. So that single definitely came from that experience.

T: And they twitched?

A: Yea they put the anesthetic on but it wasn’t really working and so when we cut into them they actually twitched. And I got such a fright because I was so use to working on cadavers who are obviously people who have passed and don’t have any muscle-twitch what-so-ever. And so it was sort of this moment: “Oh my god this person’s life, and their body is actually in my hands.”

T: What’s your favourite thing to look at at the aquarium?

A: Probably sharks I think they are really cool and they’re really misunderstood. But actually, the name aquarium comes from an interview […] about the internet being an aquarium where all you have to do really is pull your head out of it and see the actual world.

T: Speaking of the world, you were recently in Australia. What was the most memorable moment from that tour?

A: We got this amazing Airbnb in Brisbane because we couldn’t find any accommodation so we had to just hack it and buy a really great room at this hotel with a pool and a spa and stuff. It was fun playing these really packed out rock shows and then coming back to our spa as a band.

T: So nice! You’ve gotta treat yoself sometimes, right.

A: Yea!

T: You play with Tom, Chris and Jun, how do your personalities work together?

A: Chris is very chill. He’s a very chill personality…

Tom is quite similar to me. He plays drums in the band Wax Chattels who are currently on tour in America. And Jun is just like our wild card. He’s just so crazy. They’re all my best friends and they keep me grounded and they keep the music fun.

With all the seriousness that comes with releasing a new album, we’ve just stayed really close and we’re still having so much fun with it.

T: So you’ve finished med school, and you’re about to release another single and the full album in early 2019, what comes next?

A: I’ve taken some time off uni, I’m going to have some downtime. I’m really bad at having downtime. I just really want to harness that self-care.

T: Last question. Word on the street is that you’re a skater. What’s your favourite skate trick?

A: To be honest I’m still learning a lot about it. And my favourite trick is the one that I can do the best which would be a Backside Pop Shove.

T: Sick.

A: But that’s a bad answer because skaters will read that and be like “that’s not even a trick.”

T: Humility is good!

A: No… I’m just realistic.

Twitch is the first single from ‘Bad Luck Party’, set for release in early 2019. You can catch Miss June in their home turf at Laneway in Auckland the 29 of Jan.

~~~~~~

JEROME LANEWAY FESTIVAL 2019– 10^thAnniversary concert!

Monday 28 January

Albert Park, Auckland

For more info and tickets: http://auckland.lanewayfestival.com/

Ko Taranaki Te Maunga, by Rachel Buchanan
Everyone loves a book from the BWB text series. They’re ideal for learning just enough about a topic that you could discuss it over a glass of wine, but not enough to articulate it after 7 standard drinks. Ko Taranaki Te Maunga tells the story of the battle of Parihaka, which is an event that every New Zealander has a duty to know about, really. The battle is increasingly seen as a symbol of our insidious colonial history. The Taranaki village of Parihaka was founded in the 1860s in order to peacefully resist Māori land confiscation, acting as home for up to 2000 displaced Māori. In 1881 thousands of British troops invaded the village in an attempt to quell its protest campaigns, pillaging it so violently that the event was suppressed from Government records for many years. It’s time to remember Parihaka.
Persepolis, by Marjane Satrapi
Persepolis is a memoir in the form of a graphic novel, portraying a woman’s journey through childhood amid political struggle during the Islamic Revolution in Iran. The arresting illustrations marry with Satrapi’s subtle and emotive command of language to produce a deeply thought-provoking text. If you’re interested in Middle Eastern politics but find them hard to get your head around, this book uses a human story to explain the complexities in simpler terms. Persepolis has won multiple awards for its role in challenging authority and offering up a counter-narrative to the passive way that Middle Eastern women are portrayed in Western media. It’s pretty badass.

Particularly in the second half of the verse, Saba’s speed and charismatic delivery really steal the show. One of this album’s strengths, and where it builds from Telefone, is in its musical strength — often Telefone worked as a poetic piece with mood music, whereas Room 25 is more expansive and technical as a musical whole. Noname’s rapping ability has really tidied up – OCD rhythm-inclined listeners will be happier with the incorporation of polyrhythms alongside her reliably complex rhyme schemes. They seem to co-exist alongside Noname’s slam-poet esque style of rapping – a style which dominated the first mixtape.
In addition, Noname has built on her engagement with politics and gender issues on this record in an organic, vital, and topical way. I think Room 25 is an incredible work – funny, charismatic, sharp, and heart-wrenching in equal measure. If you haven’t heard Noname’s music yet, I urge you to get on board now – I think she’s well on her way to becoming one of the most adored names in rap. She’s much more than the “anti-Cardi B”, as Twitter would have it. She’s exactly the sort of voice and personality that all sorts of listeners can get behind. Awesome record.

(don’t google the Bristol scale).
Who would’ve thought the mockumentary about graffitied penises would end up being one of the most creative and well thought out Netflix shows of 2017?
It’s hard not to sound stupid when calling American Vandal a masterpiece to someone who hasn’t seen it, but in reality it’s one of the smartest shows out there. At its core, the first season was an emotional story of one man and his quest for innocence, told by found-footage Snapchats and NSFW 3D graphics. It had everyone shouting at their screens with the agonised call of “who drew the dicks?!”, leaving Season Two with a lot to live up to – and holy shit, it might even be better.
Who is The Turd Burglar?
A question that haunted me for the whole three days it took to binge the second season (pacing myself, of course). This time, the story focuses on a Catholic School in Washington that is being plagued by a prankster with a passion for poop. After the cafeteria lemonade is contaminated with laxatives, causing “The Brownout”, the AV crew is called out to solve the case. Over the course of eight episodes, Peter Maldonado (Tyler Alvarez) and Sam Ecklund (Griffin Gluck – which is honestly a great name that they should have just let him use) get to work on identifying the vandal.
Over anything else, American Vandal is a comedy, and it shows. The first half of the season is definitely more laugh-heavy, with one-liners delivered in deadpan pieces to camera by “students” with great names and even funnier stories. The commitment to the ludicrous nature of the situation is awe-inspiring, as is the seriousness with which the characters take the case, often causing viewers to have to remind themselves that what they’re watching isn’t real. One thing lacking is the presence of an emotional investment in the story from the documentarians: whereas Peter and Sam were directly linked to the scandal at Hanover High, here they are outsiders brought along for their skill. The repercussions they faced towards the end of the first season for the trauma they had caused their classmates was a highlight of the series, but a change was needed, and their separation contributes to Season Two’s overall much darker story.
As the episodes go on, it becomes clear that The Turd Burglar is a much more serious criminal than the Dick-Drawer (yes, it does feel silly writing that). This season isn’t afraid to confront society and goes balls to the wall (no pun intended) with the level of detail used in deconstructing it. The characters featured all have social media presences and are some of the most accurate teen representations in the media right now. With the acknowledgement of Netflix as a funder, the show takes on the full tropes of the true crime genre – using re-enactments and field experts as interviewees. From analysing language use to emoji choices, Peter and Sam take no shit (pun fully intended) in their investigation.
The season concludes as a powerful commentary on how social media is used nowadays, forcing you to confront the part you play in the online sphere. It is an exposé disguised as a barrel of laughs, that manages to leave you reflecting on your role in society more so than any “real” documentary has achieved in recent years.

Somehow I doubt it.
Pixels is yet another one of Adam Sandler’s ensemble movies. He gets a bunch of his mates together, makes up some bullshit, sells it to theatres, and everyone hates it.

I think.
I don’t know — I’ve not actually seen this movie. I have, however, watched CinemaSins’ Everything Wrong With Pixels more than 10 times, so I’m basically an expert in the subject.
Adam Sandler’s character — whose name doesn’t matter — is a Gamer Boy as a child, and loses a Massive Important Gaming Competition to another Gamer Boy. This defeat sticks with him for at least thirty years.
Thirty years later, there’s some conflict. I believe aliens come down to earth and issue a Gaming Challenge — or something like that. Adam Sandler and a bunch of his mates: including Kevin James (who plays the literal president of the US), and Peter Dinklage (being a total effing Chad) must beat the aliens at their own game to get them to go away.
Adam Sandler saving the world, huh? I’ve not seen someone so un-suited for their job since Trump became president.
There’s also sexism, awkward comic machismo, and all the Sandler-esque nonsense that one could ever want. It reinforces all of the stereotypes about gamers that you hate while not even attempting to subvert the tropes we know so well.
As I said above, I’ve not actually seen this film, but I do know that Josh Gad hooks up — and has babies — with Q*bert. The video game character. From 1982. I’ve not SEEN this film and I know that.
What an impact on the cultural consciousness this piece has made, eh?
I could live without that thought in my head, to be honest.
It’s been described by many as one of the worst films of all time. I’d politely like to direct those critics to the wonder that is Birdemic — and all of Netflix’s shitty sci-fi/horrors — before passing judgment, but I do understand their complaints.
I doubt Pixels is a good film — or even, a passable film — but at least it’s still a film.
Some people don’t even get that far. A lot of creators set out to make a movie and can’t find distribution, or don’t even make it past the scripting stage.
Is mocking films like this punching down? Are film critics just beating a dead horse? Should we just let Sandler fade into obscurity?
I don’t know.

We have four different podcast series:
Prima Facie
Prima Facie is a (roughly) 5-min podcast that summarises upcoming law school events and local political and legal news. The podcast is released weekly, with an episode coming out every Monday.
LAWS One-to-One
LAWS One-to-One is ALSA’s interview series, where an ALSA member interviews someone who VUW law students would be interested in hearing from. The podcast aims to be around 15 – 30mins. Interviewees include Golriz Ghahraman, Green Party MP and Māmari Stephens, Senior Lecturer at VUW Law School.
Lex Talk About It
Lex Talk About It is ALSA’s discussion panel series. The purpose of this podcast is to record interesting discussions around pertinent issues that law students may be interested in. For instance we have produced a Women In Law discussion panel featuring female leaders from Ngā Rangahautira, the Pasifika Law Students’ Society, VUWFLS (Feminist Law Society) and VUWLSS.

The Respondent

The Respondent is a longer (40-60min) well-researched, investigative podcast where ALSA members research and present findings on a broader topic to do with law school or the legal profession.
What has been the most rewarding part of creating the podcast?
The most rewarding part of creating the podcast is seeing (hearing) the final product up on SoundCloud! I am extremely proud of the ALSA executive to have put 22 episodes of Prima Facie out this year — one for each week of teaching. The interviews have been very popular and I am very thankful that we have had the talented Jack Liang as our go-to interviewer for our LAWS One-to-One series. Hearing positive feedback from those who have listened to the interviews and having the likes of Golriz Ghahraman share our podcast on her FB page was a very rewarding experience.
What do you think is unique/ important about the ALSA perspective?
Although the podcast is targeted to all law students, ALSA has the luxury of shaping the narratives that are told. We will often highlight issues to do with immigration, race, and representation in our episodes of Prima Facie. Likewise the interviews taken as a part of LAWS One-to-One have (so far) always involved questions about race or identity. I think it is necessary to expose all law students to these sorts of issues, whether from a minority group or not. The more discourse there is around the experiences of people from different ethnicities and backgrounds, the more understanding and empathetic people will become.
What has been the most challenging part of the process?
Running four different podcast series has been challenging to fit in around our own study schedules. It has been particularly difficult to get the research and interviews done for our longer podcast series, The Respondent, which itself has required a team of 9 people. We have addressed this issue directly by creating a new Podcast Manager role to our ALSA executive. Maintaining a strong listener-base has been difficult for Prima Facie, as the novelty of the podcast has worn off over time. However we have a number of loyal listeners that still tune in every week!

What do you think sets podcasts apart as a medium?
Podcasts are great because they can be interesting and informative, yet not onerous in that you do not have to dedicate all your focus to the podcast when listening to it. You can easily listen to a podcast on your bus ride to uni without dedicating any more time out of your day. Podcasts are also awesome because anyone with a microphone and a laptop can make one!
Are there any exciting ALSA podcast episodes in the works that you’d like to shout out? (or are there any previous episodes that you’d recommend in particular)?
Currently a group of ALSA members are working on a new episode of The Respondent, titled “Artificial Intelligence and the Legal Profession”. This will be a really interesting investigative piece, and has involved interviewing a partner at Chapman Tripp, a solicitor at tech law firm Simmonds Stewart, a senior AI and the law professor at Auckland University and the Dean of VUW Law School Mark Hickford.
Any general advice about starting a podcast from the ALSA podcast team?
Find a team of people who are committed and passionate about the cause and everything will flow from there!
The ALSA podcast can be found on iTunes and SoundCloud (“Vuw Alsa”). To find out more about ALSA or get involved, head to their Facebook page, “VUW ALSA 2018”.

Hana Pera Aoake
Body fluids are poetic is an interactive text, a heartbreak text. Spring is for hanging your washing out in the sun for the first time in months and crying. Produced in response to Georgina Watson’s project Larks in the dawn, Aoake writes about the trauma of colonisation and modes of grief.
Can Tame Anything at The Dowse, until 25 November
Ruth Buchanan, Alicia Frankovich, Mata Aho Collective and Sriwhana Spong
Concepts of body, site, objects, and language thread through this exhibition. The intersections between these things are what I am most interested by. How does language feel? How does the presence of a body in space transform a work? How can we visualise the production of knowledge?
Mother and Daughter on Hiatus at MEANWHILE, opening 5 October
Claudia Edwards
Edwards’ painted friezes explore the tensions that are often present in the relationship between a mother and daughter. Often these arguments are like intense sporting matches, but devoid of a referee, left to reach a bitter or entertaining stalemate. These paintings preserve this rivalry so the viewer can be the final witness in the gallery.

The premise of Christopher Robin, Disney’s live-action movie featuring Pooh and the other denizens of the Hundred Acre Wood, is simple. Christopher Robin, played by Ewan McGregor, has left Pooh and the Hundred Acre Wood behind; first to boarding school, then to the Second World War, and finally to a struggling luggage company in London. Along the way he has built a family and become a workaholic. Robin is very much an adult now, and not a fun one. Pooh must step in to save Robin from himself.
It is a straightforward premise, and Christopher Robin’s plot does not get any more sophisticated as it goes along. The inflection points — the obnoxious Woozel-like boss instructing Robin to miss a family holiday to focus on an imminent deadline, Pooh’s unintentional reemergence into Robin’s life, the rush to get Pooh home, and Robin’s gradual realisation of his misplaced priorities — are entirely foreseeable.
But Christopher Robin never hangs its hat on its plot. The true delight of the film is in the innocently playful, sometimes melancholic, and always nostalgic interactions between Robin and Pooh. For instance, in Pooh’s game of “Say What You See”, which deeply frustrates Robin in his attempt to get work done on the train and is bound to be copied by mischievous younger viewers. Or when Pooh leads Robin back into the Hundred Acre Woods only for Robin to get stuck in the magical doorframe — a subversion of Pooh’s classic habit in previous literary and cinematic appearances of getting stuck, whether in Rabbit’s doorway or in the entrance to a beehive.
These interactions are sure to make audiences chuckle; both those in the know about Pooh’s past adventures, and those who aren’t. Similarly delightful is watching Robin interact with a world he thought he had left behind for good — holding his nose and diving into a river that is now only up to his adult shins, or fighting an imaginary Heffalump to convince his plushy friends of his credentials. Eeyore, the depressed donkey, plunged the audience into hysterics over his morose and self-loathing commentary — but even he couldn’t help but smile as he saw adult Robin regain some of his childish wonder.
Most surprising is the film’s extraordinary effectiveness in delivering a message which has been delivered a thousand times before — a carpe diem-esque plea to stop, smell the roses, and have fun just doing nothing. Jim Cummings, who has voiced Pooh since 1988, perfectly conveys Pooh’s innocent naïvete — making his platitudinal wisdoms deeply and unexpectedly compelling.
The main target of those platitudes, Robin, is perfectly played by McGregor. He is convincing in his physical comedy, charming in his alternating exasperation and excitement at Pooh’s reemergence, and distressingly effective in his wistful interactions with his frustrated wife and disappointed daughter.
Christopher Robin certainly has its shortcomings. It is gratuitous and ineffective in its use of overdone plot points, such as the tragedy which befalls young Robin at boarding school, which which the film never touches on again. It also makes little use of Hayley Atwell and Bronte Carmichael, who play Robin’s wife and daughter respectively, never developing their characters into anything more than cookie-cutter cliches.
Yet the movie is shockingly, surprisingly, and satisfyingly moving. Robin and Pooh’s interplay, shown through beautiful cinematography that makes regular use of perfectly framed landscape shots of the Hundred Acre Woods, makes the journey toward the film’s inevitable conclusion deeply enjoyable.
Christopher Robin is not a sophisticated film. Yet it still manages to evoke emotional reactions of all kinds — from euphoric nostalgia to tearful reflection. For that experience alone, it is worth watching.