“Soothsayer” is Planet Hunter’s first new music since 2020 and, according to the band, it came together in a booze-filled whirlwind.
It doesn’t sound like that. Not for a second. Instead, it sounds considered, deliberate, and quietly fearless. It doesn’t really sound like anything else either, as the New Zealand mob – from near Wellington – conjure something that feels enormous yet curiously untethered, an album that floats even as it hits with real weight. There’s a hazy, almost prog-leaning sense of space to it, but never at the expense of impact.
And it hits immediately. “1000 Years From Now” arrives with no intro, no ceremony, no small talk. It just starts, and that only heightens the urgency. This feels like music written with one eye on the clock and the other on the horizon. The end is coming. Possibly next week, if Trump has anything to do with it.
“Kaikōura Lights” lives in the grooves rather than on the surface. It’s one of those tracks that reveals itself slowly, but when it lands, it looms large. These are big songs, the kind that feel tectonic rather than flashy.
“Ouija” nods back to the glory days of bands like Screaming Trees, its slogans burrowing under the skin. “Poison our minds with what we want to hear,” they sing, but this is no exercise in easy cynicism. Planet Hunter aren’t here to spoon-feed anyone. You do some of the work yourself.
There’s swagger throughout. “Unholy Union” sounds like a band planting a flag, while “You’ll Be Happy” seethes with anger and unease, its title delivered less as reassurance and more as menace. Across the record, the guitar work is consistently phenomenal – textured, inventive, and always serving the mood rather than showing off.
“Cataract,” the longest piece here, leans into a slightly Antipodean strangeness, its line “all these miscreants must pay” hanging heavy in the air. “Lazarus” follows, oppressive and unsettling, built around the thought that one day I will come back from the dead.
The Māori name for New Zealand is Aotearoa, roughly translated as “Land of the Long White Cloud.” There’s something about that phrase that fits “Soothsayer” perfectly. These songs feel like they’re chasing something just beyond reach – something half-seen, half-felt – and refusing to let it go.
This is a record that rewards attention, patience, and repeat listens. It lingers. It nags. It matters.
Fantastic.
Rating: 8.5/10
