MUSIC REVIEW

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There’s a certain kind of honesty that can’t be manufactured and with 5 Year Plan, Ōtautahi artist Lee Martin leans fully into it.

Her latest single arrives as both a confession and a reset sitting in that uneasy space between what was planned and what actually unfolded. It explores the feeling of being suspended between expectation and reality, where timelines blur and clarity doesn’t come as quickly as hoped. This isn’t polished pop.This is reflection. Reckoning. A quiet confrontation with time.

Known around Aotearoafor her soul-rich voice and genre-blurring sound weaving between indie, folk and country, Martin has always drawn listeners in through emotional clarity. But here, there’s a shift.

This time, she’s not just telling a story. She’s sitting inside it.

Around the release, the tone feels grounded as a quiet acknowledgement of process, collaboration, and everything it takes to bring a piece like this into the world. There’s no overstatement. Just presence.

For CM readers, Lee Martin is a familiar name. A past feature, yes but more importantly, an artist evolving in real time. One who continues to document the in-between with honesty and restraint.

5 Year Plan forms part of a wider body of work still to come, offering a glimpse into what feels like a more exposed and intentional chapter ahead. Not everything is resolved. Not everything is meant to be and that’s where its strength lies. This release doesn’t feel like an ending. It truly feels like a turning point.

And if this is the tone of what’s ahead, Lee Martin isn’t just reflecting on the past. She’s rewriting the plan entirely.

As Ōtautahi moves into a new creative era, few artists embody the city’s shifting rhythm quite like Lauren Marshall. Singer, songwriter, model, media multi-hyphenate — she is part of a rising generation reshaping what Canterbury artistry looks and feels like in 2026. Grounded in community yet constantly evolving, Lauren’s trajectory mirrors the momentum of the region itself: bold, collaborative, curious, and unmistakably original.

A Season of Change — and Creative Expansion

For Lauren, 2025 was a defining year — a period of experimentation, relationship-building, and brave reinvention. After returning home in 2021, she wove herself into the cultural fabric of Ōtautahi with intention and grit. Now, standing on the edge of a new cycle, she feels the shift.

“My life tends to run in five-year cycles,” Lauren reflects. “2026 feels expansive — like something new is waiting for me.”

This evolution isn’t just personal; it’s deeply creative. It marks a turning point in how she sees herself, her craft, and the community she calls home.

Defining the Lauren Marshall Sound

One of the most compelling parts of Lauren’s artistry is her refusal to remain static. Her musical DNA is a constellation of influences — pop, soul, blues, jazz, and the theatrical strength of her musical theatre background — paired with the rock edge that shaped her teens.

This year, that fusion sharpened into something bolder.

She’s leaning harder into rock, pushing her writing into new emotional territory, and simultaneously circling back to the world of electronic music. Her DJ training adds a fresh dimension — a future-leaning skill that expands how she can shape sound, space, and performance.

“I’d consider myself a curious person… I want to try it all and see what happens.”

It’s this curiosity that defines the Lauren Marshall sound today: timeless foundations underpinned by modern experimentation and fearless genre play.

The Live Show: An Artist in Motion

If Lauren’s studio work is about blending influences, her live shows are a study in transformation. Each project invites a different version of her — and Canterbury audiences have watched that evolution unfold in real time.

Her LOVETA sets bring vibrant pop energy; her Tadpole performances deliver grit and edge; her stripped-back acoustic gigs reveal the raw, connective warmth at the heart of her voice.

Across all stages, one constant remains: connection.

“My goal is always to bring people into my musical world. To have a blast together.”

As 2026 approaches, expect the unexpected — more guitar, more texture, more personality, and more immersive worlds built through sound.

Music, Modelling, Media — The Marshall Triad

In a city where creative communities overlap naturally, Lauren has built a brand powered by collaboration. Modelling for Portfolio Models led her to photographers, videographers, stylists, and MUAs who became integral to her projects. The music scene connected her to players ready to step into any concept she dreams up. The hospitality world, too, has been part of her creative ecosystem.

It’s pure Ōtautahi synergy — the kind that can only exist in a city where everyone is two introductions away from building something together.

“It’s cool bumping into people when I’m out — whether I’m playing a gig, at a fashion show, or on a shoot. It all overlaps.”

This weaving-together of disciplines has become part of her identity, strengthening her brand as much as her personal relationships.

A New Chapter of Collaboration

While some upcoming partnerships remain under wraps, she’s clear about the creatives who inspire her.

She names Emily C. Browning — one of Ōtautahi’s most respected producers — as someone she’d love to work with. And she highlights Spice Kotiro for the way her multi-disciplinary, vintage-infused fashion world intersects with makeup, styling, and photography.

These aren’t just names; they’re signals of the direction Lauren is heading — bold, genre-crossing, artisanal, and deeply local.

Connection, Vulnerability & Dreaming Out Loud

Behind the performances — whether on stage or onscreen — Lauren’s goal remains beautifully human: to make people feel seen.

“Putting myself on stage is vulnerable. But being authentically myself is important. I want my audience to feel free, connected, present… to forget the heaviness of life and just dream a little.”

Her work invites audiences into the moment — to dance, to feel, to release — and that emotional accessibility is part of what makes her a standout figure in Canterbury’s creative scene.

Ōtautahi’s Creative Pulse — and How It Shaped Her

Canterbury’s artistic community is one of the region’s greatest assets — intimate, generous, and fiercely supportive. For Lauren, it was the perfect launchpad.

“I’m not sure any other region has quite the same vibe. It’s very special.”

This city gave her the confidence to step fully into her craft — a place where collaboration isn’t a strategy but a culture, where emerging artists are embraced, and where innovation thrives through shared energy.

Looking Toward 2026: The Year of Expansion

What does next year hold? Growth — unapologetic and intentional.

“I’m ready to shed some layers and truly expand on what I’ve built.”

Musically, personally, and professionally, 2026 is set to be a landmark year — not only for Lauren, but for the wider Ōtautahi creative landscape she champions so passionately.

Over the weekend, Ōtautahi’s Te Kaha stadium hosted its first major music event, Once in a Lifetime. Sam Brooks talks to Venues Ōtautahi CEO Caroline Harvie-Teare and Jack Hassell, one of the bandmates of Castaway, about what the new venue means for the city and its musicians.

Ōtautahi’s new stadium Te Kaha is the culmination of 15 years of mahi and collaboration: standing proud amidst everything that the city has been through. Over the weekend, it played host to Once in a Lifetime, headlined by Six60 and Synthony, featuring local artists Kaylee Bell, Cassie Henderson and Castaway. It promises to be the first of many gigs bringing massive international, live-in-the-flesh experiences to Ōtautahi audiences, while also introducing local artists to those same huge crowds.

“It feels like the picture is complete,” says Caroline Harvie-Teare. “In the first week alone, we had over 100,000 people through, with Super Round Rugby and the community open day. You can feel a real sense of buzz around the city, and excitement about the fact that it’s here, but also what’s to come.”

What the stadium gives Venues Ōtautahi – and Ōtautahi as a city – is a platform to attract major international events. Harvie-Teare admits that the city hasn’t been able to compete on a national scale for some time. While they have smaller venues, such as the Town Hall (2,200 and 750 seats) and Wolfbrook Arena (9,000 seats), the stadium’s capacity (15,000 and 38,000) allows larger-scale events to be programmed.

“The stadium itself gives us the opportunity to compete for international content, and to be a platform for New Zealand-exclusive content, which is obviously what we want,” she says. “What it does mean is that Christchurch people don’t have to pack their bags and go elsewhere. But other people have to pack their bags to come here.”

When Harvie-Teare and her team think about the events they are attracting to the venue, diversity is a major goal.“There’s no point having five major international rock acts month after month. That’s not something for everyone, and even rock fans aren’t going to buy tickets to every show. You want to make sure you get a bit of diversity – a bit of country, a bit of pop, a bit of rock.”Ultimately, Harvie-Teare wants to make sure that Te Kaha is meeting the needs of the community.“We want our promoters and our venue hirers to sell tickets, but we want to make sure that the community can really enjoy their venue. That’s the important part of what we do: making sure everyone feels connected and has great access to their venue.”The choice of having Once in a Lifetime as the first concert in the venue is, in that way, a conscious one – a clear stake in the ground showing that the stadium is also a platform for celebrating local music.

For local artists, those large-scale events aren’t just career milestones – they’re part of a wider music ecosystem that helps build audiences, increase exposure and create long-term value through royalties and music licensing, ensuring musicians are supported when their work is played in public spaces, venues and businesses.Jack Hassell, of Castaway, thinks it’s an honour to have been asked to play at the first gig at the stadium. For scale alone, the next biggest venue the band has played is Selwyn Sounds, which has a capacity of 4,000.“When we think about how much this city has done for us – from taking us from bros jamming in each other’s rooms to one of the biggest stages in New Zealand. All the people we’ve met along the way, and all the growth Christchurch has been through in that time period as well.

“We’ve kind of grown along with the city and so it feels like it’s all culminating for us and the city and this show.”He believes that Te Kaha is a “world-ready” stage.“It’s giving New Zealand artists the opportunity to stamp themselves on a stage and say, ‘This is international, this is for everyone, it’s not just for New Zealanders and New Zealand artists."

It’s also an opportunity for Castaway – which Hassell describes as a band of “best mates” – to connect with the biggest audience they’ve ever had in one room. And with that audience, courtesy of Once in a Lifetime and Te Kaha, comes the opportunity for listeners to continue engaging with Castaway’s music after the concert, whether at future gigs, on streaming services or through the many businesses and public spaces that play New Zealand music under licensing agreements administered by OneMusic.

“We are genuinely so blessed to live in a country where artists are protected and supported through licensing. We pour our hearts, and souls, and time, and effort, and money into this art and while it’s amazing that we can do that, you can’t eat passion for dinner,” Hassell jokes.

He remembers hearing one of Castaway’s songs being played on an Air New Zealand flight.“All of a sudden the soundtrack to that moment was something we wrote in our bedrooms in a freezing cold flat in Christchurch. It’s humbling to remember how far music can connect. It reminds you how deeply music can connect with people even when you’re not there playing it live.”

“In order to have a society where there are artists who inspire people and make people feel all the emotions of the human condition, they need to be supported so they can actually make that art,” Hassell says. “Music licensing is just one of the many ways in New Zealand that you can ensure that you have a lifeblood.”“That’s what supports artists to create the art that is then the soundtrack to people’s mornings - or the song they need to get through a tough time.”