Japanese Breakfast Live at Auckland Town Hall: 'A Dreamlike First'

It had been a first for me: attending a live show at the famed Auckland Town Hall. Velvet-cushioned seats, marble columns, and a magnificent organ looming ahead set the scene. I was just one row shy of standing at the barricade, equal parts disbelieving and relieved to be so close to the stage. The modest stage was littered with magnificent instruments — an enormous brassy gong, a shiny, black-accented drum kit, and an electric keyboard poised on the upper platform. It was a glorious tangle of electric wires, protruding microphone stands, and dazzling spotlights. It must have been overwhelming for the sound engineers scampering past, as the audience bustled with barely contained excitement for the opening musical act.

Auckland was lucky enough to have Phoebe Rings — an up-and-coming dream-pop quartet led by New Zealander Korean Crystal Choi — open the show. They undoubtedly captivated the interest of new listeners that night with their atmospheric sound and mesmerizing stage presence.

Zauner’s entrance was marked by an ethereal glow of a lone golden lantern — a motif that would spark pure ecstasy throughout the entire show. ‘Orlando In Love’, the album single, opened powerfully and immediately sent the crowd cheering. For the most part, however, the audience swayed side to side, matching the mellow and wistful tone of the For Melancholy Brunettes (and Sad Women) record. Nearly every set featured the rich and captivating instrumentals of the live saxophone and violin — I couldn’t get enough of their solos! Michelle was nearly indistinguishable from her recorded vocals, making belting high notes seem entirely effortless. The crowd chuckled when Zauner confessed her excitement to visit Hobbiton — the very reason she was able to negotiate adding a New Zealand leg to her tour.

Be Sweet live was unbelievably enthralling — a song I’m used to blasting through my earphones while walking to and from class on an average Tuesday. I adored how Zauner and her bandmates seemed to enjoy themselves as much as the audience did. Zauner would lean back, knees braced as her fingers glided across the guitar strings, while her co-guitarist (and partner, Peter Bradley) mirrored her pose, neck arched back and lost in the chorus.

Amid moments of gravity-defying high notes and gentle ballads were bright glimpses of light-hearted humour too, with Zauner admitting she might have eaten a little too much lasagna for dinner, the regal white corset around her waist threatening to cut her airflow every second (she was so real for this). But the show must go on — and brilliantly so — as neon flashlights dimmed and sparkled in time with each beat.

During the prolonged instrumental breaks, Zauner happily danced across the stage from one end to the other, gleefully tapping away on an electronic soundboard at one point. It was all I could do not to implode with excitement, as the soundboard was stationed on the same side of the stage as me. Phone screen trained on Zauner, I tried to steady my restless feet. “Feel free to jiggle around!” she teased a few songs later, earning approving smiles from those around me.

By the time the call for an encore rolled around — a roaring chant of voices and feet stomping on the bare wooden floors — it was clear to everyone that, in more ways than one, the real show had just begun. Zauner generously reappeared on stage and performed iconic tracks from the band’s entire discography, moving melodies lulling the audience into a hypnotic trance — transfixed, awestruck, and wanting more.

Leaving the venue after a concert you’ve anticipated for months can feel disorienting, and I certainly dreaded facing the biting chill of Auckland’s wintry plumes waiting for me beyond the venue doors. But as I replayed some handheld videos from the night, humming lyrics to myself in the coat check line, I was surprised to spot two lecturers from the law faculty in casual attire, deep in conversation about their favourite sets. The unexpected sight of them amused me — it felt strangely validating somehow. And while I’ll spare Craccum readers their names at this time, I thought I’d mention why this encounter might just be the best case for why Japanese Breakfast’s latest album, For Melancholy Brunettes (and Sad Women), is universally moving — for brunette university students and non-brunette academic professors alike. It felt incredibly special to witness the band make its New Zealand debut in our beloved Tāmaki Makaurau itself, hopefully we won't have to wait too long for the next concert!

We extend our sincerest gratitude to 818. and Live Nation for giving us the exciting opportunity to attend this concert.