From Iowa City to Ōtepoti: A love letter to the Dunedin sound

By John Kenyon | Posted: Friday Mar 27, 2026

Iowa City UNESCO City of Literature executive director John Kenyon reflects on discovering Dunedin’s music in the 1990s and the decades-long fascination that followed.

I believe the first time I heard the Dunedin sound was the summer of 1990. I had stopped by a friend's apartment and glanced at the record spinning on the turntable. "What's this?" I asked, intrigued by jangling guitars, an insistent drumbeat, and brilliantly offhand vocals. He handed me a white LP sleeve with a primitive-looking guitar painted against a yellow backdrop. "It's The Clean," he said. "They're from New Zealand."

At that time, my musical tastes were on an outbound trajectory, away from the slick pop radio of my youth and early teens and into the miasma of sounds that seeped to the surface from the underground. As such, the manic strum and soaring choruses found on the band’s Vehicle immediately hooked me. It sometimes sounded like it was on the verge of falling apart, and that tension – and the fact that it never did – pulled me in. I bought my own copy by the end of the week and thus began my love affair with Dunedin music. The Chills' Submarine Bells, Straitjacket Fits' Melt, The Verlaines' Ready to Fly, and The Bats' Fear of God would have been right on its heels, as I quickly realised that much of the music that was capturing my attention came from New Zealand.

It wasn't until later – probably once the Internet became reliable and robust enough to supplant mimeographed or smeared newsprint pages of fanzines – that I put together that all this music wasn't just from a faraway land, but from one specific place: Dunedin. This became an imprimatur of sorts: If a band was from Dunedin, it was worth hearing. And as I listened and researched, I went backward as much as forward. Reading about The Clean, I would wonder about Stephen or The Great Unwashed. Straitjacket Fits led back to The DoubleHappys. The tendrils stretched out in the present as well, David Kilgour and Martin Phillipps listed on the sleeve of Pop Art Toasters EP sleeve necessitated a purchase. Yes, by this point, I was a bit obsessive.

This fandom has been almost exclusively a record-based endeavour. Iowa City was a frequent tour stop in the '80s and '90s for American indie rock bands, but New Zealand groups stuck to larger cities on their infrequent U.S. tours. So, seeing a Dunedin act usually meant an hours-long road trip. Among them were a memorable drive to Minneapolis in the '90s for a Chris Knox show in support of Songs of You and Me, while a visit to Chicago a few years back brought the joy of finally seeing The Chills upon their return with Silver Bullets.

I have filled the gap left by the lack of live experience by watching documentary films, poring over websites, and reading books. I wasn't there, but perusing back issues of Garage fanzine or reading Roger Shepherd's memoir about founding Flying Nun Records can occasionally make me feel like I was.

While the chiming guitars and pop sense of those '80s and '90s bands will always be endearing, I also find myself continuing to explore more challenging sounds. Xpressway bands like The Dead C and This Kind of Punishment have a wealth of music to explore, and while not everything connects, the passion of what does makes for a bracing listen as I catch up.

And all of this continues. While I'll always love "Pink Frost" or "Death and the Maiden" or "Tally Ho," I'm eager to hear new and old music from Dunedin. The reissue of the Dunedin Double a few years ago had me listening to The Stones and Sneaky Feelings more than I had in the past, while the latest album from Bill Direen's Bilders, Neverlasting, clicked in a way much of his previous music had failed to do. So, back I go to see what I missed the first time around.

My heart may lie with those past acts and the music they continue to make – The Bats’ Corner Coming Up is a stunner, and The Chills’ Spring Board was a beautiful swan song – but I do continue to seek out new sounds. Something I read recently recommended U-NO JUNO, and I've been spending time with their new music, yet another era of Dunedin bands.

I was delighted a decade ago when Dunedin joined Iowa City as a UNESCO City of Literature, and I likely made a pest of myself at our first meeting when, wanting to talk about their city's vibrant literary scene, the Dunedin team were pelted with question after question about music. "Do you know Graeme Downes?" "Can you get me an original pressing of Boodle Boodle Boodle?" I have loved learning about many facets of this incredible community's arts and culture scene, so ably promoted by my colleague there. Rest assured: you have a life-long advocate in Iowa City who lives and breathes the Dunedin sound.

John Kenyon is the executive director of the Iowa City UNESCO City of Literature organisation. A native of Des Moines, Iowa, he graduated from the University of Iowa in Iowa City and basically never left. After 20 years in journalism as a writer and editor, he shifted to the non-profit world to lead the City of Literature, a post he has held since 2012. In his spare time he reads and occasionally writes, listens to music and occasionally makes his own. He lives in Iowa City with his wife and two sons. You can read more of his writing about books, music, movies and more at his Substack, My Impression Now, found at jpkenyon.substack.com.