Having attended more live shows than Gordon Ramsay has recipes I’ve seen it all. From the painstakingly meticulous to the gloriously chaotic. As a songwriter and musician with an ear for just about every genre under the sun, it was no surprise that tonight’s lineup at The Others Way festival served up something for everyone.
In fact, it was nothing short of a sonic smorgasbord, a carefully curated feast of aural sculpting that tantalised every sense.
Emerson – Live at the Flying Out
The night kicked off with Emerson, the first act of the evening, and my arrival, just five minutes before the band hit the stage, gave me a front-row seat to a minor backstage spectacle.
The sound guy, pushed into a cramped corner, was manning a setup that looked more like something Frankenstein might’ve cobbled together in a moment of sonic ambition.
A quick chat with him revealed the truth. It’s a bit of a dranky setup, he said. A fitting description, considering the gear seemed to have more in common with a mad scientist’s experiment than a professional sound rig.
Despite the rocky start, around 50 eager fans filled the venue, ready for whatever was about to unfold.
Emerson kicked things off, weaving live vocals with backing tracks, an approach that felt like a warm-up for what was to come. Initially, the crowd seemed unsure, but as each song played on, the appreciation grew.
It was clear that Emerson’s sound was designed to grow on you, pulling listeners in with catchy hooks and infectious rhythms.
Emerson, ever the charismatic front person, announced I guarantee you it will get faster soon.
And while the crowd awaited the tempo change, the next song was another slow ballad. Typical artists move, right?
Then, in a true moment of self-awareness, Emerson declared, enough of that slow stuff now, let’s get weird. With that, the tone of the backing track dropped, and the weirdness began, the electronic textures taking over in a delightful, almost avant-garde way.
What stood out throughout the set was Emerson’s voice. Pure Pop, with a commanding range and a distinctive tone that made it shine through any backing trickery. Despite the synthetic additions, her raw voice was strong, clear, and edgy in the best way possible, cutting through the mix and giving the live performance a vibrant edge that worked surprisingly well.
By the end of the set, the crowd was fully on board. Heads were nodding in time with the music, and the infectious energy of the songs was undeniable.
Emerson closed the set with You Really Must Hate Me, a track that is practically begging to be a global Pop hit, yet to be discovered by the masses. Here’s hoping that the world eventually catches up.
Emerson proved to be a polished, well-crafted act with an arsenal of catchy tunes and a stage presence that felt both raw and refined.
Despite a somewhat unconventional setup, the night demonstrated that sometimes, it’s the imperfections and spontaneity that can make a show truly memorable. Keep an eye on Emerson, they’re bound to break through soon enough.
T.G. Shand – Pitt Street Church
T.G. Shand’s performance unfolded like a rehearsal that somehow wandered onto a stage before anyone had time to warm up.
The evening began innocuously enough, with the bass player strolling out first, casually tuning up, followed by the guitarist, who seemed more focused on positioning her drink and digging through her pockets for picks than preparing for a show.
The whole thing felt eerily laid-back, almost as if the pre-show rituals, the placement of in-ears and casual adjustments were happening backstage, only to spill into the audience’s view.
Unfortunately, the relaxed vibe extended into the music itself. The bass player, noticeably out of sync in the first two tracks, seemed to be playing lantern notes rather than anything resembling a coherent rhythm.
By track three, she found her footing, but the damage had been done, and the momentum had been lost.
The band’s sound, which can only be described as a poor man’s version of the Cocteau Twins, lacked the ethereal charm and polish of their influences. In fact, it was hard to ignore how much the band lacked the pizzazz necessary to bring the music to life.
The lead singer didn’t help matters. Bouncing between two microphones for no discernible reason, it was unclear why she needed two. One of which was dramatically quieter than the other, offering little more than frustration for the audience.
Her performance was a mystery. She moved through the set with all the enthusiasm of someone who had just finished a gym session, completely disengaged from the audience. Not a single word was uttered to the crowd, making the entire experience feel more like a practice session than a live show.
The mix, if you could even call it that, was another major issue. The vocals were nearly inaudible, lost in the muddled cacophony of bass and guitar.
To make matters worse, the sound desk was positioned off to the side, and the sound engineer never bothered to step into the crowd to hear the mess he was putting out. If the goal was to turn the acoustics of the church into something unrecognisable, mission accomplished.
After finishing their set, the band offered a tepid Thank you so much for coming so early. A half-hearted acknowledgment that only added to the sense of detachment. If this was meant to be a live performance, it felt more like a dry run.
T.G. Shand had all the trappings of a promising act, but on this night, they failed to deliver anything more than a muddled, lacklustre showing.
Mystery Waitress – Whammy Bar
Wellington’s Mystery Waitress, signed to the iconic Flying Nun label, took to the stage with an undeniable sense of ease and swagger that immediately captured the audience.
The mostly female quartet, consisting of songwriter and vocalist Tessa Dillon, lead guitarist James Morgan, bassist Xanthe Rook, and drummer Olivia Campion, blended alternative Indie Pop with subtle Jazz influences to craft a sound as fluid as it is captivating.
Opening with In a Shell, the band swiftly transitioned into Console, their second most popular track, showcasing their musical chemistry.
Their sound is like the ebb and flow of the sea, gentle yet powerful, with rhythmic nuances and textured layers that draw you in. There’s an undeniable swing to their music, which adds a richness that sets them apart from the typical indie fare.
Campion, drumming in Doc Martens, commands the kit with the precision and professionalism of a seasoned Jazz player. Her slick stick work, particularly the use of the side of the floor tom rim to create an overbeat, demonstrated her technical prowess.
After the show, I had a brief chat with her, and it turns out she’s a Jazz school alumnus. No surprise, given her world-class drumming technique.
Dillon, on guitar, oozed confidence as she finger-picked her electric guitar, her laid-back style perfectly complementing Rook’s steady bass lines.
Rook, sporting a pinstriped suit and her own pair of Doc Martens, anchored the sound with a grounded yet fluid rhythm.
Dillon’s casual singing style, effortless yet striking, wrapped around the melody with ease, creating a comforting and intimate atmosphere. It’s clear this band is incredibly tight, a well-oiled machine with an undeniable sense of musicality.
The band’s sound onstage was pristine, resonating beautifully through the house PA system and delighting the crowd. Despite playing to a relatively sparse room of around 100, the audience was clearly hooked.
Mystery Waitress is a band that deserves much more attention. I couldn’t help but feel they were on the verge of something bigger, and they certainly have the chops to carry them there.
Morgan’s guitar work during the set was also noteworthy, delivering some well-timed, intricate solos that added an extra layer of depth to their already rich sound.
As the set ended, Dillon announced thanks guys, so nice to be here. This is our last song, before launching into Night Bug, their most popular track to date.
With its strong, catchy opening line think I’m gonna make the same mistake twice, the crowd couldn’t help but be swept up in the infectious energy of the song.
If you haven’t yet seen Mystery Waitress live, don’t make the mistake of missing them next time they’re near you. This is a band with serious potential, and their performance tonight was a testament to their undeniable talent.
Erny Belle – Double Whammy
Ngāpuhi singer-songwriter Erny Belle, aka Aimee Renata, continues to carve her own dark, immersive path with her sophomore album Not Your Cupid, which dropped in 2023.
On a very wet evening in Auckland, she brought the sombre tones and intimate storytelling of her album to life onstage, alongside a five-piece band of seasoned session musicians.
From the start, it was clear that Belle’s sound is as raw as it is magnetic. The opening song began with just Renata and her acoustic guitar, her voice vulnerable yet commanding.
But then, out of nowhere, an unfortunate burst of feedback ripped through the venue, halting the show for a moment. A stunned pause followed as Renata took a breath, composed herself, and dove back into the performance with an almost imperceptible shrug, her quiet strength and unspoken resilience shining through.
The audience, for their part, seemed unfazed by the technical hiccup, appreciating the richness of the music regardless of the minor disruption. But the vibe, at least in the early moments, was more reflective than raucous, with long silences between songs that left the atmosphere feeling a little like a private rehearsal rather than a public gig.
The occasional awkwardness in Renata’s stage presence, where she avoided direct engagement with the crowd, created a sense of distance. It wasn’t bad, just… unpolished, like we were part of something personal that hadn’t yet reached its full potential. But perhaps that was part of the allure.
In a shift as subtle as it was powerful, Double Whammy illuminated the night with a smoky, dim-lit aura, pulling the room into a completely different space.
The barriers between Renata and her audience slowly dissolved, as she began to speak through the music rather than to the room itself. The melancholy beauty of her voice intertwined with the fluidity of the band, creating a hypnotic blend of Alt-Folk and Soul that felt less like a gig and more like an intimate confessional shared between old friends.
Erny Belle’s magic is in her contradictions. There’s darkness in the light, vulnerability in the power, and soul in every chord she plays.
By the end of the set, any traces of early awkwardness had melted away, replaced with the kind of quiet enchantment that only someone truly in tune with their art can evoke. As the audience quietly filed out, they left with more than just the memory of a show. They left with a story. And sometimes, that’s exactly what a song is meant to do.
Juno Is – Whammy Bar
There’s a quiet confidence in Mackenzie Hollebon’s performance as Juno Is. A subtle power that doesn’t demand your attention, but commands it all the same.
Dunedin-raised and Auckland-based, Hollebon took the stage at Whammy with a lineup of musicians who were clearly in sync with her unique vision.
This wasn’t just another gig. It was a moment of intimacy shared between Hollebon and the crowd, who were in for a treat. Her first-ever live performance of tracks from Eye on The Prize, her debut album that dropped just a few weeks earlier, on November 8, 2024.
Hollebon’s stage presence was a fascinating study in contrasts. When she confessed, I don’t play shows often, so thanks for having me, there was an endearing vulnerability that cut through the cool, collected aura she projected. You could feel the weight of the moment in her voice. This wasn’t just another performance. This was her moment.
Kicking things off with the album’s standout track Eye on The Prize, Hollebon and her band delivered a stunning first impression. It was evident that this was a debut performance for the album material, yet the set felt completely natural, the songs thriving in the live setting just as they do on the record.
Hollebon’s setup was a testament to her DIY spirit. A small suitcase precariously stacked with a wooden block housing her effects pedals, and in front, a mini Korg keyboard.
It was unconventional, but that was exactly the point. Her creativity knows no bounds, and neither does her music.
Throughout the night, the setlist flowed effortlessly, each track weaving seamlessly into the next.
Hollebon’s understated stage presence was magnetic, a quiet force that never overshadowed the music but instead elevated it.
The sound was lush and expansive, thanks to her stellar band, whose skill and chemistry allowed the tracks to come to life in unexpected ways.
What stood out most was Hollebon’s ability to hold the audience’s attention without saying much at all. She wasn’t there to entertain. They were there to listen. It was an intimate exchange between artist and audience, one that required little more than a few words and a few notes to connect deeply.
Juno Is isn’t about fireworks or flashy gestures. It’s about feeling every note, every word. And in that understated performance, Hollebon proved that sometimes, the most powerful moments in music are the ones that are quiet, simple, and undeniably real.
A. Savage – Galatos
Under the dim, flickering lights at Galatos, A. Savage didn’t so much perform as he preached, transforming the stage into a pulpit of fire and fury.
Hailing from New York City, Savage wielded his guitar like a well-worn weapon, battered and scarred from a lifetime of protests, dive bars, and the kind of life that leaves its mark on both body and instrument.
Every strum was a battle cry, each chord a declaration, and every lyric carried the weight of years spent in the trenches of art, politics, and personal strife.
Opening with a sharp, commanding strum and his gravelly baritone, Savage wasted no time diving into his manifesto, a blend of neo-Folk poetry and scathing political commentary.
His songs didn’t just fill the room, they tore into it, dragging the audience into the depths of his world, where every word was a question and every note a demand for reflection.
Between songs, Savage gave voice to his unwavering support for Indigenous rights, calling for justice not just in America, but across the globe. It was a theme that struck a chord with the audience, who hung on his every word as if searching for answers, or perhaps just a release from the tension of the world outside.
The crowd, a mix of idealistic youth and battle-hardened veterans of protest scenes past, responded with a fervour that would’ve made any preacher proud.
At one moment, Savage had them roaring in approval, the energy in the room palpable. The next, they were hushed, listening intently, completely absorbed in the weight of his message. Savage wasn’t just performing songs, he was invoking an awakening, a collective experience of truth, pain, and ultimately hope.
Musically, Savage’s neo-Folk arrangements were deceptively simple. Raw, acoustic strumming laid the groundwork for his voice, which shifted seamlessly from a gruff rasp to a tender vulnerability.
His guitar, worn and loved, became an extension of his soul. Every chord wrung with either defiance or melancholy, depending on the mood. It was an intimate performance, the kind that felt like a confession rather than a concert.
Savage’s political rhetoric was fierce, relentless, and unapologetic, but never preachy. His storytelling didn’t dictate what to think. It made you feel why it mattered. It was hard to pinpoint where his fire came from. Anger, hope, or maybe a mix of both, but the intensity was undeniable.
When he introduced Buffalo Calf Road, a song about a courageous Indigenous woman who reportedly shot General Custer off his horse at the Battle of Little Bighorn, it felt like a rallying cry. A beautiful symbol of resistance in the face of violent oppression, one that Savage saw as relevant to today’s world.
By the time the final song arrived, Savage’s performance had reached a fever pitch.
The man who had started the night as a tender troubadour had transformed into a possessed force of nature, head-banging and thrashing around with the abandon of a Metalhead, fully immersed in his own music and the message he was delivering. The crowd was right there with him, carried along by the raw power of his conviction.
A.Savage’s set wasn’t just a concert, it was an awakening. It was a reminder that music has the power to challenge, to provoke, and to heal. And in that fiery, unforgettable performance, Savage proved that he is not just a musician, but a storyteller, a prophet, and, above all, an artist who knows the world is watching, and he’s not about to back down.
Paul Marshall