There’s an ongoing running joke among music fans in New Zealand: we are almost always the very last stop, if we happen to make the itinerary at all. So when word broke that Alex Warren had chosen Auckland’s Q Theatre as one of the select destinations for an intimate pre-album listening party and Q&A, it felt like a small miracle. Having moved here from the UK, I’ve spent years watching these career-defining, exclusive moments unfold thousands of miles away. This time around, New Zealand was right at the center of it.
Walking into the Q Theatre, the atmosphere immediately signaled this was no ordinary gig. Soft fairy lights hung low above the floor, casting a warm glow over a space intimate enough to catch every whisper and feel every collective reaction ripple through the crowd. With only a lucky handful securing tickets, a shared gratitude filled the room. Total strangers were chatting like long-lost friends, eagerly trading theories on which unheard tracks would hit hardest before a single note had even echoed through the speakers.
The room was already packed with fans who knew every line to the pre-released singles—”Passenger,” “Rescuer,” “Fine Place to Die,” and “Fever Dream”—setting an electric baseline. Going in, most expected “Cry Wolf” to steal the spotlight as the clear fan favourite. But as an emotionally attuned listener at heart, it was “Same Stars” that utterly stole the night, a quietly devastating piece that took on an entirely new weight once its origins were revealed.
As Alex shared throughout the evening, the album is dedicated to his late father. Knowing that backdrop changes how every lyric lands. “Wild Child” features a full minute-long guitar solo that Alex explained was his dad’s favourite, though he playfully kept its exact inspiration under wraps, hinting only that he has an entire TED Talk on the subject dropping this tuesday NZT.
When “Passenger” played, the room sang along in unison under the fairy lights, a stunning sight for a song only a few months old. “Rescuer,” out for just two weeks, drew the exact same impassioned chorus, proving just how deeply these tracks already run.
Track 7, “Are You Having Fun,” offered a gentle emotional breather, built around a preserved voice message from Alex’s dad. The vulnerability continued into “Only Thing,” drawing quiet tears across the floor, before “Won’t Go Back Again” lifted spirits with a welcome surge of energy. Then “Last Time” gently pulled everyone back down into the reality of loss:
“Don’t want the door to close, always thought I’d see you again / Wish I’d have known it was the last time, tell me why’d you have to go?”
It is a record that holds space for grief rather than running from it, and the room absorbed every line.
When the final notes drifted off, nobody was ready for the spell to break, and thankfully it didn’t. Host Georgia Stewart (Burt) took the stage to lead a Q&A sourced from fan submissions gathered throughout the night.
On the hype around “Cry Wolf” and whether the explicit language contributed to its popularity, Alex laughed off the audience’s recurring shock: “Yes, I cuss a little,” he admitted, noting with amusement that listeners are perpetually surprised by it despite it being a regular fixture in his songs and live sets.
When asked about his personal music inspirations, he spoke with genuine admiration for Shawn Mendes, joking that no one should be allowed to look and sound that good simultaneously—alongside warm praise for Joe Jonas.
That admiration carried seamlessly into a game of Snog, Marry, Avoid. The verdict? Snog goes to Joe Jonas (“obviously”), Marry goes to Ed Sheeran (“have you seen how rich he is?”), and Avoid fell to Sombr—purely because, as Alex joked, he has a habit of wrecking green rooms.
Turning back to the music, Alex named “I Miss You More” as the most challenging track on Wild Child to write and record. Captured almost entirely in a single take, you can hear him audibly weeping on the final mix, a vulnerability so raw he no longer performs it live.
His reflection on “Same Stars” offered one of the most poignant moments of the entire evening:
“If you’ve ever had someone pass away in your life, it feels like something is really out of control—you’re kind of watching life happen to you in the weirdest way possible. Everything just kind of stops spinning and you’re stuck in this one place, in this feeling you want so badly to go away. With ‘Same Stars,’ I wanted to explain that feeling. You struggle to explain what grief feels like when you lose someone.”
To wrap up, he offered simple, grounded advice for an aspiring songwriter in the crowd, echoing an idea he attributed to Ed Sheeran: every room holds a set number of songs waiting to be written, so the only path forward is to keep writing until you find them.
If it seemed impossible to feel more connected to Alex Warren before stepping inside, this evening changed that entirely. Watching an artist stand so unguarded, turning raw grief and memory into a shared sanctuary, was unforgettable. Auckland was deeply fortunate to host this chapter, and it feels wonderfully clear that we picked the right person to champion.
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