Mr Meaty Boy: Unapologetically Pushing Boundaries
“When I can tell something is gonna be good, I get anxious,” admitted DJ Mr Meaty Boy, beaming a smile, knowing the turn her story was about to take.
The Pōneke-based disc jockey reflected on a memorable night performing at Christchurch hotspot FLUX, playing at an Echo Train Records gig promoting mental health. “Drugs and alcohol can get distracting,” they said. “This night was more about uplifting people and reclaiming the space.”
Centre stage with their USB stick at the ready, Bea Gladding (she/they) – the creative mind behind the Mr Meaty Boy moniker – found themselves caught in a whirlwind of thrill. “I couldn’t breathe for what felt like a minute,” they said.
Despite this, the up-and-comer rode the ebbs and flows of the club atmosphere, waiting to reach the eye of the storm before delivering a surge of techno-induced ecstasy to the encompassing crowd.
With opportune timing, pressing the play button liberated Bea’s chest of its all-consuming pressure. “The track was so atmospheric… [and] the lighting all came together and I felt so free, the most free I’ve felt in my life.”
“I love seeking those moments,” Bea said, reminiscing. “Hopefully I don’t get too addicted.”
Identity is everything for Bea in their artistic pursuit to be unapologetically themself. Belonging to Ngāti Porou and Ngāpuhi iwi, Bea takes great pride in defying societal norms as an artist and supporting Māori, Pasifika, LGBTQ+ women and non-binary individuals in an otherwise white, male-dominated industry.
With an off-the-wall name like Mr Meaty Boy, heads are sure to turn as Bea intentionally parades under a hyper-masculine name with an air of absurdity to it. “It’s a play on the masculinity of the scene at the time [that] I was wanting to become a DJ,” they said on brainstorming the name six-to-seven years ago.
As it turns out, Mr Meaty Boy coincidentally shares the namesake of the burger joint in Taika Waititi’s directorial debut film “Eagle v Shark.” “Taika is someone I look up to,” they said, locking the name in ahead of their first mix.
Having played in bands growing up, Bea was no stranger to guitar, synths and drum machines. So when it came to following in the footsteps of friends that were testing the DJing waters, Bea had a strong base to build upon. “[Production] isn’t too disconnected from playing instruments…it’s all composition.”
Bea cites hip-hop and R&B innovators Ms. Lauryn Hill and Erykah Badu as early influences on their music, highlighting the ways the two “bended and manipulated inside their genres” in their trailblazing careers.
Bea acknowledges that it took some time to get the ball rolling, mainly because they couldn’t envision themself doing it with how homogenous the DJ scene looked. This changed the moment that one of their favourite artists, Kamandi, booked them for their first gig. Bea met the acclaimed Christchurch artist at a party and was starstruck when he booked her on a “good feeling.” Being taken seriously right from the beginning inspired Bea to treat other LGBTQ+ and Māori artists with that same unconditional faith, even while they’re still developing.
While currently calling Pōneke home, Bea expressed their connections to places such as Taranaki, Gisborne, and Kaitaia but keyed in on Ōtautahi as their home away from home. The greyscale tones of Christchurch’s Neo-Gothic streets have grown to become a muse for Bea’s music. “It’s spiritual,” they said. “There’s a darkness in Christchurch and everyone is isolated… but they know that they’re alone together and I think there’s something really human about that.”
“In Auckland [DJing] feels commercial, in Wellington everyone is an artist… [in Christchurch] it feels like a survival instinct. It feels very barren and therefore we need to generate some heat.”
Through Bea’s eyes, the Christchurch DJing scene sonically pulls from similar social landscapes around the world, adopting elements of the UK underground and Detroit, Michigan. “Christchurch is really about breaks… garage, jungle, drum and bass.”
“[It] is about rigid beats and finding interest within the constraints of those sounds.”
Before entertaining the ideas brewing in Ōtautahi, warm beats and polyrhythmic percussives were Bea’s bread and butter. Since being exposed to Christchurch’s grungier, high-octane stylings, Bea’s production has evolved into an experimental approach that looks to answer one question: “How fucked up can you make a sound and still make someone move?”
“I don’t like genres, but it is for the club,” they said in their rejection of a label. “It’s about making people dance… [making people] think ‘I didn’t think I could dance or move in that way’.” Words and phrases such as internet age, metallic, and ballsy came to their mind describing the aesthetics they aim to melodically capture.
So, what’s next around the corner for Mr Meaty Boy? Well, a few things are on the horizon! First up, Mr Meaty Boy and their partner protectionspell are gearing up to release an EP on Echo Train in the September-October range, so be on the lookout for that. Secondly, Bea is applying for NZ on Air funding with techno DJ keepsakes, who is helping them polish off their producing skills and bringing in people who specialise in the composition of te reo Māori lyrics.
To Māori artists wanting to test their hand, Bea advises to “[not] feel ashamed to ask for what you want or need and don’t accept the barriers for entry. We don’t have heaps of role models but there are ones [out] there doing electronic music. It is part of our identity, just a bit harder to find.”
They hope that with time, the nation can get the international recognition it deserves, and has their fingers crossed that Aotearoa can continue to be a melting pot of diverse sounds and never loses that edge.