Marlin's Dreaming - 'HIRL' Album Release Tour
Hollywood Avondale, Thursday 19 September 2024
Full feature by Amiria Gentry-Tuck
Photographs by Milad Asadi
I often fly home. As I fly over the Canterbury plains and dot out presumed regional barriers, I can't help but feel as though I'm chasing the warmth of some distant nostalgia. A mismatched tapestry of familiar sensations exists parallel to this new life. Sunbeams dancing on my flesh beyond the aircraft's glass mirror those that once graced my arm, hanging out the window of the first boy I ever kissed car. That sun feels like the salty hair dripping down my back sitting on the roof of my parent's home, hazy in hand. The willows are thick again, rosey shoulders softley sting, and the slow harmony of a passing cicada sums into a choir. Marlin's Dreaming feels like that bittersweet paradox of warmth, and familiarity found in distant fond memory.
A bittersweet existence. It is yearning to belong in a space of familiarity that we've outgrown. As each summer passes, its innocence feels distant yet familiar. Somehow, Marlin's Dreaming managed to capture that feeling. A spirit-awakening reverie on hearth and flux, seasons and surroundings. The New Zealand ensemble weaves a delicately shimmering tapestry of sound, into which they immerse themselves completely, beckoning listeners to join their moment of cleansing contemplation—cartharticism in reflection.
But first, let's discuss Awning. As the daughter of a Talking Heads aficionado, I've been indoctrinated in the momentum of the 1984 Jonathan Demme-directed film Stop Making Sense since childhood. When Awning's frontman commandeered the stage - calculated chaos and robotic grace - conjured into a David Byrne-esque display. Each twitch and deadpan stare, controlled frenzy, a marionette of the band's own design. The ping of unwired guitar strings and drums echo distilled avant-garde showmanship. Awning doesn't just echo the past, they may just be crafting their own fresh tremor that even Byrne himself could one day nod in twitchy approval of.
But back to the topic of hand, Marlin's Dreaming first entered the stage, performing the 2020 single 'Sink or Swim', followed by HIRLs' Hello My Dear'. A single hue of blue lit the stage, distinguishing each band member's contours from the fog. Melodies adrift, toying with a sense of connection in a realm all at once familiar and strange - a place that echoes with memories yet vibrates with an alien resonance. Frontman Semisi Ma'ia'i contemplated, "Last time I was here, I was watching a movie… Now I'm where the movie was watched". De Stevens and Oscar Johns's eyes at times softly closed, each riff flowing through them like a meditation mantra. In its simplest form, a shared experience is how I would describe that night.
Enticed, all eyes were directed towards the stage. Cellphones had been replaced almost entirely, and the occasional rare oddity of a film camera made its appearance. The audience switched effortlessly between swaying in pace with reflective melodies such as 'Cabbage Trees' to swelling into a spontaneous wordless chorus, their unified 'duh duh duh' becoming an organic rhythm to tunes like 'Cheeky Kids'. The band opted away from high-tech modern displays and instead stripped their performance back to just themselves, their instruments, colour-coordinated lighting and the band's own hand-spray-painted sign.
HIRL and its tour build on the previous albums' layered, heartfelt songwriting while taking a confident step forward in production. The result is a release that balances intimacy with radio-ready hooks, as they fully embrace their pop potential without sacrificing their trademark depth. The band technically ended the night with 'Lucky Star', the HIRL single. The lyrics in Lucky Star are a fitting end to the set of such a tour. However, although Lucky Star was the planned conclusion to the night, the band came back out to perform one more song. The song they played? That is a secret for the soul-stirring intimate crowd at The Hollywood Avondale on September 19. And just as calmly and swift they entered, the band left.
The ghost of defining a "home" haunts us, shape-shifting with each passing season, a kaleidoscope of belonging that refuses to settle. I ache for places I've left and yearn for those I've yet to know, my present a thin line between worlds. The atlas we form of a life lived sometimes appears dog-eared and well-thumbed, each page a home we've loved or will love, our finger tracing the roads between. For now, we can be right here, right now, today. How lucky we are to create experiences for future nostalgia with HIRL and its tour. Though steeped in introspection and moments of quiet rumination, the album's ultimate cadence resonates with a newfound maturity. HIRL ends the band’s hiatus, and illustrates a bridge of growth and maturity built during these four years. Its tour affectionately and graciously replicates the same complicated warmth nostalgia manifests. Appreciation and affection for the complexities of this little life can be found in its subtext.
Watch the video for 'Lucky Star' from Marlin's Dreaming's latest album 'HIRL' below!
Want 95bFM to review your gig? Click here
95bFM 
