Raised on coastal coffeehouse sets, Marlon Funaki blends hushed folk, light island rhythm, and city jazz chords.
From small rooms to wide horizons
Recent shows favor a tight trio, a shift from his earlier loop-first approach, which gives the grooves more space. Expect a patient open that swells into singable hooks, with likely picks like
Salt Air,
Half Moon Harbor, and
Paper Kite.
Who shows up and what they notice
The crowd feels mixed and mellow, with students near the rail, local songwriters comparing notebooks, and friends catching lines under their breath. Trivia heads note he once played drum chair in a small surf outfit and still records airy vocal doubles through a handheld cassette mic. You might also clock the nylon-string tucked by the amp for a soft break in the middle third. These setlist and production notes reflect informed observation rather than firm facts, and the details can change night to night.
The Half Moon Scene
What people wear and trade
You see light linen shirts, thrifted jackets, and beat-up sneakers next to a few sharp boots. Fans trade tiny lyric zines and enamel pins at the bar and tuck setlist guesses into journals. A soft call of 'half moon' sometimes rises before the encore and fades into a hush without pushing the room.
Rituals without the noise
Phones stay mostly low until a favorite line lands, then one quick photo and pockets again. Merch leans toward hand-drawn shirts, a small-run poster with tide lines, and a cassette for the collectors. After the show, people linger to talk arrangements and favorite bridges rather than chase volume. It feels like a listening club that still knows how to clap on the twos and fours when the groove asks.
Under the Hood, Over the Moon
Small moves, big feel
Marlon Funaki sings in a close mic style that keeps consonants crisp and breath noise part of the texture. He often tunes the guitar a step down for a deeper strum, then uses a high capo to brighten certain choruses. The trio leans on pocket drums with rods, a round bass tone, and small piano filigrees that trace the vocal line. Arrangements tend to start spare, add one color at a time, and land on a quiet stop rather than a crash.
Choices that serve the song
Live,
Paper Kite can stretch into a slow bridge where he speaks a few lines before the band slides back in. Tempos sit just above a sway, which lets the lyrics breathe and keeps conversation in the room to a minimum. Lights are soft amber and midnight blue, shifting only on key phrases so the music leads the eye.
Kindred Ears, Nearby Roads
Overlapping sounds, shared patience
Fans of
Hozier will recognize the soul-in-the-woodgrain vibe and patient dynamic lifts.
Ben Howard loyalists may click with the tide-like guitar pulses and reflective pacing.
Mitski appeals to those drawn to intimate lyrics that cut quietly but land heavy.
Where lyrics steer the night
If you follow
Noah Kahan, the blend of folk storytelling and modern pop sense will feel familiar. All four acts work in midtempo spaces where words lead and the band paints around them. That shared focus on tone and restraint means a crossover crowd can settle in fast.
