Pudding Dragons: Heavy Riffs and Humor Unite
Experience the electrifying fusion of heavy riffs and humor with the Pudding Dragons! Our high-energy performances invite metalheads and fun-seekers alike to headbang, laugh, and revel in the chaos. Join us for an unforgettable ride filled with fierce music and inclusive vibes at every show!
5/8/20244 min read


The Pudding Dragons: A Gooey, Melodic Mess
In the dense, pudding-laden fog of 2021, when the world was in lockdown and everyone had way too much time on their hands, a musical monstrosity was born. That monstrosity is The Pudding Dragons—a band that set out to melt faces, melt hearts, and maybe throw a few pies along the way. Formed during the COVID-19 pandemic in New Zealand, this group of misfits wanted to take a stand against the egos and pretension of the music industry by embracing the one thing that could unite us all: desserts.
Meet The Band
Smudge Miramar (Bass & Vocals): The self-proclaimed “Custard King,” Smudge’s entire life philosophy can be summed up as “Never take anything too seriously... except pudding.” Before founding The Pudding Dragons, Smudge was a struggling jazz bassist and professional pie-eating competitor, but the pandemic led him down a different path—one of musical chaos. Smudge growls, raps, and sometimes whispers sweet nothings into the microphone about desserts, revolution, and overthrowing the corporate overlords of the music industry. He’s known for his bizarre stage presence, which usually involves some form of custard bath by the encore.
Clo-Clo (Drums): Clo-Clo is the heartbeat of the Pudding Dragons, though she prefers to be called “The Pastry Queen of Percussion.” Raised in the South Island by a family of bakers, she started drumming on pots and pans before she could walk. Her kit is rumored to include a full set of cake molds, which she uses to create the band's signature thunderous crashes. Clo-Clo also runs a side business selling artisanal éclairs between sets—multitasking at its finest.
Felix (Guitars): Felix is the most mysterious member of the group. No one knows exactly where he came from, but there’s a rumor he was born inside a bakery during a lightning storm and raised by wolves—who also happened to be excellent pastry chefs. Felix shreds like his guitar is made of molten chocolate, blending metal, nu-metal, and a touch of ‘90s boy band finesse into riffs that are equal parts brutal and absurd. His on-stage persona is somewhere between serious virtuoso and someone who might start a pie fight at any second.
Bailey (Guitars): Bailey joined the Pudding Dragons after wandering into one of their early gigs looking for a job as a pastry chef. When he discovered they didn’t actually bake onstage (a huge letdown for him), he figured he might as well stick around for the free desserts and ended up becoming their second guitarist. His solos sound like a blender full of fudge going off at high speed, and his hobbies include arguing with Felix over the correct way to make a meringue and jumping into the crowd with cakes strapped to his chest like a pastry kamikaze.
Jello (Keyboards/Turntables): The Pudding Dragons needed someone to sprinkle some extra sweetness on their sound, and that’s where Jello came in. Equal parts DJ and dessert aficionado, Jello’s turntables are often covered in sticky fingerprints from all the pudding breaks during recording sessions. Her love of synthesizers, beats, and remixed kitchen sounds (yes, the whirring of a blender can and does become a sick breakdown) makes her the icing on the chaotic cake. Jello also DJs at children’s birthday parties, where she specializes in “mosh-pit cake walks.”
The Anti-Ego Crusade
Unlike many bands who are in it for fame, fortune, and the endless need for validation from their adoring fans, The Pudding Dragons were formed for one reason and one reason only: to mock the very essence of the self-centered music industry. According to Smudge, “If you’re not throwing cake at your fans, are you even really connecting with them?” The band rejects the whole “rock god” persona in favor of what they call “Culinary Anarchy”—a mix of heavy riffs and childish food fights, where no one, least of all the band, is allowed to take themselves seriously.
Their shared disdain for the music industry’s egotism is reflected in their live shows, which have become legendary for their food-based stage antics. While most bands are busy preening and posing, the Pudding Dragons are busy launching cakes, pies, and the occasional tray of brownies into the audience. They believe that there’s no greater metaphor for artistic connection than a well-aimed custard tart to the face. And honestly? They might be onto something.
Cake-Throwing Chaos
If you’ve never seen a Pudding Dragons show, imagine this: You walk into the venue expecting some standard death metal chaos, but instead, you’re greeted by what can only be described as a food fight waiting to happen. By the time the first chord of “Four more Cats! " rings out, Smudge is already waist-deep in a giant mixing bowl full of batter, Clo-Clo is wearing a chef’s hat with drumsticks in hand, and the rest of the band are hurling cupcakes at the crowd like artillery shells.
Their hit single “My Cat has the Zoomies” is always accompanied by a mosh pit, but not the kind where people throw elbows—oh no, this one involves flour, whipped cream, and an audience that somehow always leaves covered in various baked goods. And, for the grand finale, Jello usually cranks out a synth-heavy remix of the sound of a blender full of frosting, as Felix and Bailey wrestle each other with pies strapped to their hands.
There’s always laughter, sugar, and a feeling that maybe—just maybe—life is better when you stop pretending to be cool and just throw some cake.
What's Next for The Pudding Dragons?
As of late 2024, the Pudding Dragons are still riding the sugar high of their viral music video “Too Old for the Sea too Young for the Land” and working on their next album, tentatively titled “Pie Harder.” They’ve also hinted at a world tour with rumored set designs involving giant cake cannons and inflatable desserts. Smudge has hinted that the band might take their love of baked goods to the next level, possibly opening a bakery where all items are served with a side of death metal.
The Pudding Dragons aren’t here to win Grammys or get inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. They’re here to laugh, headbang, and make sure you leave their show covered in frosting with a stupid grin on your face.
Because in the world of metal, who needs egos when you’ve got éclairs?