TEEKS: COMETS COLLIDE

Vasili Papathanasopoulos

11 minutes ago

11 min read

NOVEMBER 2026

Photographs by Vasili Papathanasopoulos.

Singlet, Cos. Pants, Needles. Meermin. Breifs, Calvin Klein.

There is something liberating about reaching a point in your life where you no longer feel the need to explain yourself. The expectations that once felt so pressing begin to lose their hold, and the desire to fit neatly into someone else's idea of who you should be gives way to something more interesting: the freedom to find out who you actually are. For Teeks, that shift has become part of the creative foundation of Lovers Comet, his second album and a record that moves through the many contradictions of being human. Romantic yet sensual, tender yet occasionally destructive, it is an exploration of love and lust, intimacy and desire, and all the complicated feelings that exist somewhere in between. Five years on from his debut, Something To Feel, the New Zealand soul artist sounds increasingly sure of himself, not because he has everything figured out, but because he is becoming more comfortable with the parts of himself that don't always seemingly fit together.

A year after finishing the record, that confidence hasn't faded. If anything, the time away from it has given Teeks a greater appreciation for what he and his collaborators created. “I still love it so much - even though it's been an entire year since we wrapped it,” he says. “I'm just so proud of the music and the project in its entirety, you know, and what we made. I genuinely think it's the best music I've ever made in my life.” There is a certain satisfaction in hearing an artist speak so fondly of a project after the intensity of making it has passed. For Teeks, the ambition was always to create something with a life beyond its release, music that might “transcend time and leave a legacy”.

That kind of longevity, however, doesn't come from standing still. Teeks sees personal growth as intertwined with the work itself, and his approach to making music has become increasingly shaped by the experiences he gathers away from the studio. Rather than feeling the need to constantly produce, he prefers to move through distinct periods of living and creating. “I tend to work seasonally,” he explains. “So I'll have my downloading phase where I'm just living life, exploring, traveling, and then I'll eventually feel like I wanna make something when I feel like I have something to say.” It's a way of working that allows the music to come from somewhere genuine, rather than forcing inspiration to arrive on demand. “I work better that way. I like to focus on one thing at a time [laughs].”

Having the space to live, observe and return to the work with something new to offer seems to have been particularly important for Lovers Comet. Where his debut introduced Teeks as a songwriter, this record finds him more willing to explore the full range of his experiences without worrying too much about how they might be received. He describes the album as having a duality, one that makes room for the tenderness and purity of romantic connection while also acknowledging the less comfortable parts of being involved with another person. “I wanted to not hold back, and be as honest and authentic to my experiences as I could be,” he says. “That includes the softness and the purity that comes with being in relationships and being romantically involved. But that also includes the shadow [laughs], and some of the destructive behaviours and the aftermath that can also occur.”

Jacket, Alfies Mission. Top, Entire Studios. Jeans, Acne Studios. Shoes, Meermin. Watch, Gucci. Jewellery, Artists Own.

The result is a record that rarely settles into one emotional register. On EROS and PROMISED LAND, desire takes on an almost spiritual scale. The language is expansive, full of stars, higher powers, sacred encounters and the feeling of being pulled towards someone by something larger than yourself. On PROMISED LAND, intimacy becomes something close to devotion, with its hypnotic groove carrying the sensation of surrendering to a connection that feels both physical and otherworldly. It is an idea that runs through much of the record: the possibility that another person can shift your entire sense of perspective, even if only for a fleeting moment.

That feeling becomes more consuming on OVERDOSE, where attraction is rendered as something almost impossible to contain. The song moves between pleasure and excess, with the object of affection becoming something to be worshipped, consumed and ultimately surrendered to. Its intensity is perhaps unsurprising given the literary inspiration behind it. When speaking of the mythological presence on the album, I ask him if he has read Madeline Miller's The Song of Achilles. He tells me he penned OVERDOSE after reading the novel. The title Lovers Comet grew from that image, although its meaning only became clear to Teeks towards the end of the creative process. He explains that he was inspired by Eros, the Greek god associated with love and desire, and the idea of two people coming together as a kind of cosmic event. “I loved the idea of thinking about a person and a relationship as a cosmic event colliding. It's like a once in a lifetime type thing, because love can be fleeting.” The comet became a fitting metaphor for that encounter: something rare, appearing only once in an extraordinary stretch of time, but capable of leaving an enormous impact. “Just the whole world building around that, I thought had so much potential and the impact that it can have on you and the beauty and the destruction potentially.”

Not every expression of desire here is so grand. MY BOY brings things back to the playful, physical curiosity of getting to know someone, finding affection in the details and allowing intimacy to unfold without needing to define it too quickly. POETIC, meanwhile, is a little more self-aware about the messiness that can accompany romance. Its central question, “Are we pathetic / or is it poetic?”, captures the strange ability to recognise that a relationship might be driving you a little mad while still finding something beautiful in it. There is humour in that admission, but also a generosity towards the imperfect ways people love one another.

Elsewhere, COME AROUND and NARCOTICA explore desire from a more restless place. The former captures the loneliness of wanting someone close, even when you don't necessarily know who that person might be, while the latter leans into the magnetic pull of someone whose presence feels almost intoxicating. Across both, the need for physical connection is inseparable from something more vulnerable: the wish to be touched, held and made to feel less alone. The album understands that desire isn't always as glamorous as its cosmic imagery might suggest. Sometimes it is simply the very human need for another person to be there.

Part of what makes Lovers Comet feel like such a personal statement is Teeks' willingness to move beyond the version of himself he has traditionally presented. “Compared to the last album, I definitely feel like this record is very sure of itself,” he says. “But I definitely wanted to lean into sexuality and kind of rewrite the narrative a little bit. I feel like in the past, especially with my earlier records, there's been... I guess there's a perception of me because I've always been the 'golden boy,' like 'soft boy,' 'good boy' [laughs].” It's a description he offers with a sense of humour, but there's a more considered thought behind it. “There also other parts of who I am, you know? I wanted to let people know that I'm not perfect, and I make mistakes, and I [laughs] engage in behaviour that sometimes is unhealthy and dysfunctional.” Rather than rejecting his gentler side, he's making room for the parts of himself that don't necessarily fit alongside it. It's a distinction that matters. Lovers Comet doesn't present sexuality as a departure from tenderness, or suggest that one must come at the expense of the other. Instead, Teeks is interested in allowing both to exist without shame. “I just feel like I wanted to lean into my sexuality as a source of power,” he says. “This album is seductive and romantic and sexy and that also translates to the sonic production.”There is a confidence in that decision, but it doesn't feel like a performance of bravado. It is more about being comfortable enough to show different sides of himself without needing to justify the contrast.

Teeks wears Porter James. Breifs, Calvin Klein. Boots, Timberland.

That growing confidence is also reflected in the way Teeks approaches songwriting. While he has generally been drawn to melodies and chords first, allowing the lyrics to arrive later, the process for Lovers Comet was more collaborative than it had been on previous projects. “Generally I've always written songs the same way. I will usually start with a melody or some chords. I'm more melodically and musically driven, and the lyrics come a little bit later.” For a long time, that meant working alone. “I think there's definitely power to that. I feel like you can, tap into a space that is only possible when you're by yourself.” He's also come to recognise what can happen when the right people are brought into the room. “I've also learned how valuable co-writing is, and working with other people and how much they can help things move along. But it really depends on the people that you're working with.” That distinction was particularly important on this record. Teeks says the collaborators he found along the way became close friends, and that the trust between them made a real difference to the process. “We have such a high level of trust and there was a shared investment into what we were making. When the energy is so present, everyone's super excited.” Compared with his previous album, where he was still figuring things out as a writer and co-producer, this time around he felt much more settled in his decisions.

Finding that chemistry isn't always guaranteed. Teeks is candid about the fact that some writing sessions work better than others, and that the people in the room can make all the difference. With this record, however, the connection felt immediate. “The boys that I worked with on this record, we just had such a good synergy. We're really close friends. We have such a high level of trust and there was a shared investment into what we were making.” That sense of trust allowed the process to feel more playful, while also giving Teeks the space to make decisions with greater certainty. “When I made my last album, I wrote and co-produced the album, but I was still figuring out things. So this one is a lot more dialled in.”

His more considered approach extends to the album's sound. There is a richness to Lovers Comet, but it rarely feels overcrowded. The production gives the songs room to breathe, allowing Teeks' voice to remain at the centre rather than competing with the arrangements around it. He credits his collaborators for bringing a particularly music-minded approach to the process, but is equally aware that knowing what to leave out is just as important as knowing what to add. “My voice carries a lot of weight and it's distinctive, and I think it was important for us to make... because a lot of it also was restraint. You can do so much sonically and musically, but holding back is a big part of the job too. So it's the balance.”

Sade was a key reference point throughout that process, particularly for the way her music can feel and emote without ever appearing to try too hard. “She's my Northern Star when it comes to the music that feels effortless, and again, is gonna last forever,” Teeks says. “She's the epitome of just sexy and seductive, but sophisticated.” It is an influence that makes sense within the world of Lovers Comet, where the production is often as interested in atmosphere as it is in impact. The songs are allowed to unfold rather than rush towards their biggest moments, and that restraint gives their emotional intensity somewhere to land.

Of course, knowing when to stop is its own challenge. Like most artists, Teeks admits that perfectionism can make it difficult to let a piece of work go. There is always another possibility to explore, another detail to adjust, another version that might bring the song closer to the feeling he has in mind. “But I don't think it's ever gonna be perfect [laughs],” he says. “I think you just have to get to a point where you accept that, because there's so many things we could keep trying.” For him, the important thing was capturing the emotion of a particular moment before it slipped away. “Because the longer you drag it out, the further you are pulled from the moment or the experience. So you've gotta give yourself some type of limitation.”

Teeks wears Porter James. Breifs, Calvin Klein. Boots, Timberland.

Furthermore, the instinct to capture a feeling before it disappears is reflected in the album's visual world, too. Teeks has always approached music with a strong sense of imagery, often seeing the look and atmosphere of a song before its final form has taken shape. For Lovers Comet, he wanted something that could feel both timeless and futuristic, drawing on the retro-futurism of the Y2K era while building a world that felt mythical and cosmic. The result gives the record a visual language that complements its central metaphor: romantic connection as something rare, immense and capable of leaving a lasting impression.

There is also a sense that this openness has come with age. Having recently turned 33, Teeks seems increasingly comfortable with the idea that self-understanding is an ongoing process, rather than something that needs to be achieved by a certain point in life. “I care less about other people's opinions and what people might think of me. I don't really care about fitting in, and trying to fit in,” he says. “When you're younger, that's all you wanna do - is be accepted and to fit in. But then the older you break out of the matrix.” He laughs at the thought, but there is a real clarity behind it. “You really dial in and refine your sense of self and I think it's a beautiful thing.”

For Teeks, the next part of the process is bringing Lovers Comet into a shared experience. “Live performances for me is my favourite thing about what I do,” he says. It's something he considers even while writing, with the thought of how a song might translate on stage can inform the song. “Sometimes that can inform the creative process because you want to make music that sounds good and is gonna sound good on stage too.” He's particularly excited to perform PROMISED LAND, drawn to its groove, bass line and guitar, which he says “almost feels like a trance” and “almost feels tribal in a way”. UNNATURAL is another favourite that he thinks would be beautiful live, alongside COME AROUND. Having already performed MY BOY, PUT YOUR LOVE ON ME and OVERDOSE in South Africa, where the songs were well received, he’s looking forward to bringing the full album to audiences, including at the Sydney Opera House. There's a lot that goes into translating the record's world beyond the studio, he acknowledges. “I wanna do it justice. It takes a team to do that. So finding the right people, the right bands, the right creatives, to bring the world into focus and make people feel like they are experiencing something special.”

Ultimately, Teeks doesn't seem particularly interested in prescribing what Lovers Comet should mean to the people who hear it. He hopes they recognise the confidence behind it, and perhaps feel encouraged to move through their own lives with a little less fear of being misunderstood. But he is just as happy for the music to be enjoyed on a more instinctive level. “Honestly, I just want people to have fun and feel excited about how the music makes them feel.”

Perhaps that is the freedom at the heart of Lovers Comet. It doesn't ask Teeks to choose between the romantic and the reckless, the tender and the sensual, or the person he has been and the person he is still becoming. Those sides of him are not competing for space; they are all part of the same story. Like the comet that inspired its title, the album is drawn to the beauty of an encounter that cannot be neatly contained or held in place. It leaves room for the possibility that love can be both healing and destructive, that desire can be exhilarating and lonely, and that being sure of yourself doesn't mean having to resolve every contradiction. Sometimes it simply means being willing to let all of it be seen.