Honey for Bee’s? Nah, Honey for Jupiter

Tegen Bishop posing next to graffiti ‘honey’, which is partially the name of her project.  

Source: Supplied. 

If you’ve ever caught a glimpse of a gal strumming a ukulele with effortless charm at a flat party, chances are you’ve encountered Tegen Bishop.

By day, she’s a chemical engineering student, but by night she transforms into the creative force behind Honey for Jupiter, a personal project that has been making its mark on the local music scene. Initially recruited by the popular university band Second Hand Goods for pretending to play the ukulele, Bishop quickly proved she was more than that when she grabbed the mic and wowed the band into backing her own musical endeavour, Honey for Jupiter. 

Bishop at the Martin Garrix music academy in November last year. Source: Supplied. 

Though Bishop’s love for music began at age 10 with the recorder—an instrument most children abandon after mastering 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star'—she continued to nurture her passion, eventually transitioning into song writing. By 2022, she was recording raw, self-described 'shitty quality' demos in her bedroom, marking the early days of her project. 

When Bishop decided to tackle her first live performance in summer last year, the sun was out, beers were being slung, and vibes were at an all-time high - but the weather had others plans. 

“Just as we're about to play, the weather flipped. Huge winds and a massive rainstorm just came in.” 

But the show must go on, so Bishop and co quickly set up shop inside a bedroom. Fifty people stood shoulder to shoulder in the tiny room, creating an intimate yet special vibe.  

“It was like a shitty circumstance, but the fact everyone was there made it so special.” 

Bishop’s musical journey was sparked by her father, a musician who inspired her to explore sounds from an early age. As a child in primary school, she started "mucking around on recorders," a playful introduction to music that set the foundation for what would come later. 

Reflecting on those early days, Bishop admits, "obviously then I wasn't very sentient, so I'd just do like random shit."  

It wasn't until high school that her passion for music became more self-driven.  

The turbulence of adolescence, with its intense emotions, provided the perfect backdrop for her to start taking music more seriously. "Going through quite big emotions for the first time was a good way to slide into something more serious," she shared, adding with a laugh, "Like, teen angst is so real." 

At 17, Bishop began writing her own music, though she looks back on those early creations with a mix of fondness and embarrassment. Yet, these early attempts were crucial steps in her musical evolution, helping her to refine her voice and style. 

Growing up in North Canterbury, after her family skipped over to Aotearoa from the UK when she was eight, Tegen's rural upbringing played a significant role in shaping her identity. The stark contrast between the bustling, overpopulated UK and the serene, peaceful rural landscapes of New Zealand was profound. "The rural places are so peaceful.” 

Honey for Jupiter performing at an Opsoc event. Source: Opsoc.  

Living near Oxford, a small town in North Canterbury, Bishop found freedom in the lack of societal expectations. "You don't have to dress in any certain way and you feel like a little kid again," she said, appreciating the simplicity and freedom of her surroundings. 

The shift from high school to university life came during the thick of the COVID pandemic, which meant traveling was off the cards for Bishop. Instead, she dove straight into flat life and a chemical engineering degree. But even with the demands of her studies, music remained a constant, occupying much of her time and passion. It’s clear that music, more than anything, is where Bishop’s heart truly lies. 

“The thing is, it's special when it's just for yourself, and if other people vibe then that’s cool.”  

Though it was fun, Bishop said it’s been “a lot [smoother] sailing since” she laughs.  

Landing multiple gigs and making the Dig the Gig final this year have helped that boat move smoothly, but a once in a lifetime opportunity that Bishop landed really solidified the talent she possesses. 

After seeing a small poster tucked away on a café wall, reading ‘win a trip to Amsterdam’, Bishop thought “f*ck it I’ll just apply.” 

Thirty up-and-coming musicians, songwriters, singers, and producers from all over the world are invited to Amsterdam to learn from the experts of the music industry. 

This JBL competition was to attend the Martin Garrix music academy in Amsterdam, so Bishop flicked through some demos a video and thought nothing more of it. Until she got told she made the New Zealand top ten. 

“I was like, wow, that's, that's crazy. That's really nice of them to think I would be in the top 10 in New Zealand.” 

As nature always runs its course, Bishop joked with her mate at a birthday party about winning the competition. Her friend urged her to check her emails just for fun, and low and behold, the joke became reality. 

“And it read, congrats you're going to Amsterdam.” 

This short but sweet trip away introduced Bishop to incredible musicians across the world and set her up with a book of knowledge and memories. People at various stages of their careers came together in a space where creativity and a hunger for knowledge fuelled their collective greatness. 

The 30 winners that got to go to Amsterdam for the academy. Source: Supplied. 

But coming back to Aotearoa was hard due to the lack of opportunity in our country. 

“There's just not really many opportunities for funding or to work with people professionally. Unless you have money, which you can't really afford as a student.” 

Bishop’s return from Amsterdam highlighted a stark reality for many musicians in Aotearoa: while opportunities and support abound elsewhere, home can often feel like a creative desert.  

Her time at the Martin Garrix Music Academy was a whirlwind of inspiration and new connections, but coming back to New Zealand was a jarring reality check. Despite the incredible experience and potential she discovered abroad, Bishop found herself grappling with the harsh truth of limited funding and professional support at home.  

It’s a classic case of international envy—where the grass is greener, but the financial soil back home is barren. This challenge underscores a broader issue for emerging artists in New Zealand: while their talent may shine brightly, the support infrastructure often struggles to keep pace. 

But the beauty of independency has Bishop cruising through the next wee while on her own buzz. 

“I'm just focusing more on putting shit out for myself and putting out projects that I'm proud of.” 

So keep an ear out!