Sunwraith’s debut show at Big Fan in Auckland sold out. This was an amazing way to introduce the live band and the result of many talent musicians, the ideal community-centric space, and a diverse audience all coming together to make something worthwhile.

In the following days, I had many reflections about putting on shows after more than 13 years away from the live circuit. Here are three.

I’m struck by the generosity of the scene. Malachi, the reverse mentor; Conor the first musician to arrive and last merch salesperson standing; York the grunge-monk door manager; gracious photographers; tireless friends and staff. All shared a genuine enthusiasm with the audience in celebrating the bands. It was also a thrill to meet so many young people, especially those who made a connection with the Decortica track in the setlist and A New Aesthetic CDs pulled out of the archives (my garage).

It’s better being in a band now. There are many creative and infrastructural threats to the arts; these are serious but shouldn’t entirely distract us from the wellspring of talent and creative resolve pushing up through cranks in the concrete. Making social content is dreadful. On balance, scaling DIY marketing in a cheap, targeted, repeatable way is possible. Obviously, access to real-time data enables sensible decision-making on promotional spend and impact. I just can’t believe we used to book shows at the King’s Arms on a Tuesday three-months out, blitz the university with posters only to have them covered up by other bands the same night, and hope for the best.

I worried I was over-engineering everything with 100+ hours of planning, promotion, and co-ordination effort over 8-10 weeks for one show. However, I was building things—budgets, video workflows—for the first time that are re-usable. And I’m familiarised again with the nuanced point at which organisation submits to abandon—the creative act of letting go. Some things can only be worked out in production.