Album Review: Did I Hurt Somebody?

“This project is my way of saying that everyone is either scary or hoha,” says Adam Tukiri. “It’s about having my little empire that only I can flex, while showing that it didn’t come easy.”

Like contemporary Tom Scott, Tāmaki Makaurau based hip-hop artist Adam Tukiri is well known for blending personal stories with classy atmospheric, self‑made soundscapes. Relationships live in transition. He often turns inward to speak outward. His journey is ours to learn from.

He goes by many names. You may also know him under the moniker Dharmarat and his work with his group Valleyside Boys. He’s also worked with Tom Scott, Deadforest, Great South, and many more. He toured with Home Brew (on their ‘24 NZ national) and hit the stage at Rhythm and Vines, plus countless other gigs around the motu. He’s appeared on various projects, including Troy Kingi Presents: Night Lords, featuring on the track Cold War, which has been considered a sort of spiritual prequel to this album, Did I Hurt Somebody?

And so, to this work. I’m not the biggest hip-hop fan, so, my knowledge is a bit patchy when it comes to the here and now. I tend to veer more towards the heroes of the late 80’s and 90’s. Yet I can recognise the emotional honesty of his words, mixed with the cool, almost retro lo‑fi textures that Tukiri uses in his production.

In his short press, he tells us that “In the lead-up to this project, I’ve been intentionally posting misleading and ‘rough’ music online – not as a stunt, but as a way of keeping distance while keeping my listeners aware of upcoming music.” So, the viral teasers. By his admission and from what I’m hearing the final project is a bit quieter, and “more inward-looking, dealing with abandonment, paranoia and self-examination.”

And there’s a reason for that. Since his last album release, Babe, Tukiri has fathered a second son (congratulations, by the way!). He chose to keep that out of the public eye. That decision – holding something significant privately while still being visible – sits at the centre of the record and how it is currently being rolled out. I think it’s actually the reason for all of this.

“My name is Adam I’m a white hori, lot a bullsh*t happened in the writings of my story”, Tukiri raps as he works through his own life journey, in Sirens. It’s been a challenging time, and he won’t be candy-coating anything. There are references to parental relationships, stepparents, tensions: “I got a mum who’s still tryna recover / Been through a lot so she comes off as a nutter”. But also with acknowledgement that he’s his own man now, with his own young tamariki and responsibilities. The contemplative mood echoes the album’s larger themes – personal reckoning, his journey through loss, reconciliation, self‑assessment. That aligns with the album’s broader themes.

Pretty much all these 8 tracks take a similar path. Recognising your past. Reconciling it. Accountability, showing up. That’s what matters. Don’t come here if you can’t do that. These are all confessions. Sometimes, he looks at societal ills, such as socials and online gambling, reframing them as enemies and responding like a cartoon gangster: “F*ck Me? F*ck Me? Nah f*ck you?” He sings in the chorus of Me or U. I got the vibe that this is like a title fight face off. Although the underlying grooves seem to be frivolous and jazzy, so perhaps it’s a dark humour at play, too. There’s an unexpected change of pace mid-track, which makes it feel like two separate ideas – glued together, with the resin dripping down the sides. A bit messy but strong in shape.

Some tracks just hover over the same material. I Changed might be the clearest statement of taking personal responsibility, as Tukiri tackles his past actions head-on directly. Clocking his mistakes, but trying to say what changes he’s made, in the same breath. That track’s one of several produced by Hor. Beats (one of the Valleyside Boys). That includes Like This Before, which gets extra kudos for sampling some super-lush 70’s Luther Vandross-style strings, adding a bit of a ‘romantic’ element. You get the warm fuzzies with the images of his happy homelife.

They Don’t Talk About Us is about old behaviours resurfacing, threatening relationships. This song is all about trying to smash the behaviour cycle and reset things. Deadbeat Workaholic, is more about guilt, and like the title says working too much, neglecting other things – the age-old battle between honouring whānau responsibilities and committing to the creative muse.

Yin is the album closer. Throughout the album there’s been subtle inflections of jazz in the samples and the beats. But here the sampled pianos are prominent. I think this is the best track. I had to listen three times before I even paid attention to the rhymes. I’m not entirely clear what the message on this one was. Throughout the album there are themes of acceptance, healing and reconciliation of all that’s been addressed above. So, in that sense it’s a cathartic way to complete the set. An acknowledgment, again yes, that it’s time to accept the past, move on and commit to doing better.

The cover of this album has a picture of what appear to be his two sons, his treasures, his reasons, warm and safe at home. A statement of resolution of all that’s gone before. And I hope it’s a happy place – he deserves the pot of gold at the end of this particular dark rainbow.