They say that early Polynesian explorers could hear Aotearoa before they saw it. The chorus of the bush sounded across Te Moana-nui-a-Kiwa, beckoning Māori towards its riches – karanga through the mist. Our native manu are one of the most special aspects of Aotearoa. Historically, geographically and socially, our native birds are integral to what makes this place unique. One might even say they’re one of the few things we can all agree on (Bird of the Year is arguably more popular than our general election, after all).

And look, I totally get it, a chorus of birdsong floating out across the ocean sounds mean as. But they can’t all be Beyoncés, can they? Just because the chorus sounds good, doesn’t mean they’re all cracked up to be solo artists. I mean, have you heard a kārearea? I decided to find out – what separates the Harry Styleses from the Steve Aokis?

Here is the definitive ranking absolutely no one asked for: calls of ngā manu from worst to best, from bush chickens to atua.

Weka

1/10

Weka are the worst birds in the world. These heathens are not only conniving little thieves, but their calls are simply mind melting. On my recent foray into tramping, I discovered that weka have more nerve (and it do take nerve) than the Act Party any time they release a statement.

Abel Tasman National Park is home to an array of beautiful sights and sounds. Weka are not one of them. On the first night of our four-day expedition, I was bested by one of these bastards when they raxxed a bag of bagels from my half-unpacked pack. These bush chickens don’t fly, but it turns out I do. I chased that motherfucker down on my blistered feet and retrieved the bag – but then I had to listen to “Did you see that girl chasing that bag of bagels?” at each camp for the rest of the journey.

The only thing worse than the sheer audacity of these birds is the calls they make. Picture this: you’ve just walked 13km with an 18kg pack. You’re shattered – you lie down, ready for the best moe you’ve ever had, when a neighboring group of weka start a round robin of murderous screaming. I say murderous because you’ll want to unalive these birds after a few verses of their so-called ‘song’.

Listen here at your own risk.

Ruru

3/10

Reliable, sturdy, morose – the emo soft-boi of the ngahere. These one-trick birbies can get pretty monotonous pretty fast, but they do make the still bush nights a little less lonely. Ya know how people will put a clock next to a puppy to comfort them because it reminds them of their mother’s heartbeat? That’s kinda the ruru vibe. That steady metronome of soothing trills is enough to sing you to sleep, but will he take you out for breakfast in the morning? Methinks not.

Find your new maladaptive lullaby here.

Tīeke

5/10

A for effort, tīeke. Like, I get that you’re trying. And I know you have much bigger issues on your plate, like fighting your way back from the brink of extinction. The strain in your voice provides an insight into your ongoing struggle – ka whawhai tonu mātou. I can just hear the emotional exhaustion in your humble squeaks. At the same time, I do get a bit of a Mariah vibe. All whistle, no bite. Which is why I’m hesitant to say much more than Cs really do get degrees.

Fun fact: that TikTok about girlbossing too close to the sun was actually about the tīeke!! See what had happened was, the bro Māui was trying to aid and abet capitalism by slowing down the sun. The tīeke was supposed to be helping Māui, but this hōhā little guy was not meeting the requirements of his job description as avian sidekick. Really, he was just ignoring Māui and getting in his way. Māui was over it by this point. So, with one giant hot hand, he yeeted little tīeke back down to earth, leaving him with a red-hot pat on the back that has scarred this clingy manu for life.

Get your sidekick fantasy on here.

Tūī

7/10

Talk about a comeback queen. I don’t know about you, but I never remember hearing tūī growing up and now these baddies are just everywhere. Tūī not only have a unique and interesting call of their own, but they also do some pretty mean covers, mimicking other birds pretty effectively.

However, barring the endangered sub-species of Rēkohu Chatham Island tūī, I guess they are kinda dime a dozen these days, making the tickets a bit of a hard sell. One might say they’re the Zayn Malik of the ngahere. Like, you kinda thought they might be the breakout star of the group; they really got a head start on the whole solo career thing. But like, his work since then hasn't been anything to write home about. That being said, the patriot in you is still going to the concert if he’s coming to your town. In One Direction We Trust.

Give em the ol’ razzle dazzle here.

Kākā

8/10

Kākā really said, “No thoughts, just screech.” You know what that is? Camp. I will not be taking questions at this time.

Get into it yuh.

Korimako

11/10

Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference… I could go on.

I mean come on, talk about range. How does one tiny little bird make so many amazing noises?? Seemingly all at the same time?? Whistles and clicks and coos, and laughs, all while keeping that haunting underlying melody.

Beam yourself up here.

So there you have it, e hoa mā. Look out for my smear campaign against the weka in this year’s Bird of the Year.

Feature image: Nuanzhi Zheng 郑暖之