Live at Kiri Te Kanawa Theatre
14 October 2026
Live Review by Music Journalist: Paul Marshall
APRA Silver Scroll Awards 2026: A Night for the Songwriters, the Stories and the People Behind the Music.
There are nights when I turn up to a music industry event with my camera, notebook and journalist's hat firmly in place, ready to capture the action, interview the artists and tell the stories that might otherwise go untold. Then there are nights when the notebook can stay in my pocket, the camera can take a break, and I can simply enjoy being part of the music industry I have spent decades working in.
The 2026 APRA Silver Scroll Awards was one of those nights. For a change, I wasn't there as media. I was there as a songwriter.
And that, for me, made this year's ceremony particularly special.
This was the 61st annual APRA Silver Scroll Awards, an occasion that coincided with a significant milestone: 100 years of APRA representing songwriters and composers.
For those unfamiliar with the Silver Scrolls, this isn't an awards ceremony where you can simply jump online, purchase a ticket and turn up for the night. It's an invitation-only event, bringing together songwriters, musicians, composers, industry professionals and invited guests to celebrate the people who create the music that becomes part of our lives.
And tonight, I was one of those invited guests.
As a registered APRA songwriter, I currently have 244 original song compositions registered, with plenty more scattered across my computer and various pieces of paper. Some are works in progress, others are ideas waiting for the right moment, and a few probably need a little more attention before I consider them worthy of registration.
Through my band Hangar 18, I have written and released two albums, alongside material released through various other bands and side projects. So far, that amounts to 58 professionally released songs, in addition to the records I've played drums on over the years where the songwriting duties belonged to someone else.
Songwriting is a strange business. You can spend hours or days working on a piece of music, sometimes wondering whether anybody beyond yourself will ever hear it. Then, if you're lucky, a song finds its audience and takes on a life of its own.
That's what these awards celebrate: not merely the finished recording, the production or the performance, but the creative spark that started with someone sitting down and putting a musical idea into the world.
With that thought in mind, I stepped onto the red carpet.
My guest for the evening was the legendary Leesa Tiley, who had arranged for us to catch up with Murray Cammick, a familiar name to anyone who has followed New Zealand music journalism and the local music scene over the years.
It had been some time since I'd seen Murray, so there was plenty to talk about and a good chinwag was inevitable. At one point, he remarked that he didn't remember me being quite so tall.
Now, there are two possible explanations for this. Either the years have somehow added a few inches to my stature, or the rather substantial heels on my Snoop Dogg sneakers were giving me an unfair advantage.
The third possibility is that Murray simply remembers me sitting behind a drum kit, where one's height is somewhat less obvious.
I'll leave that mystery for another day.
The foyer was filling up, conversations were flowing, and there was that familiar buzz you get when a room contains people who have collectively spent thousands upon thousands of hours making, recording, performing, promoting and championing music.
The bar was open and the free drinks were flowing freely throughout the evening. While champagne, beer and top-shelf spirits were finding plenty of takers, I went looking for something a little more compatible with my own plans for the night.
My drink of choice turned out to be an orange, carrot and turmeric concoction. It was colourful, refreshing and, I imagine, considerably more beneficial to the body than some of the alternatives being enthusiastically consumed around me.
The catering team deserves a mention, too. There were trays of excellent canapés circulating, chicken and chips served in bags, and an impressive selection of food continuing well into the evening. Even as the night approached its later stages, the supply lines remained open, with Magnum ice creams and churros accompanied by chocolate dip making an appearance.
It was the sort of hospitality that encouraged people to linger, talk and reconnect rather than simply collect their award, finish their drink and disappear.
And when you've got a room full of music people, that's where some of the best moments happen.
The Silver Scroll has a history stretching back to 1965, when the idea of recognising original New Zealand songwriting was developed through APRA, following a proposal from radio and music figure Edd Morris. Long-serving APRA staff member Patricia Bell played a pivotal role in bringing the award to life.
The trophy itself is one of the award's most distinctive features. Rather than a conventional statue destined to gather dust on a shelf, the Silver Scroll is a perpetual trophy, engraved with the winning songwriters' names and entrusted to the winners for the year before passing to the next recipient.
Think of it as the America's Cup of songwriting. The honour is yours for a time, but the tradition continues.
And, unlike many awards that celebrate popularity, the Silver Scroll is decided by APRA members voting for their peers. It's a recognition of songwriting craft from people who understand just how much work can go into creating a song that sounds effortless. I was one of those voting.
This year's event was particularly meaningful because of APRA's centenary celebrations. One hundred years of representing songwriters and composers is a considerable achievement, and a reminder that behind every song we hear on the radio, stream through our headphones or sing along to at a concert, there are people whose work deserves to be recognised and protected.
The ceremony was hosted by the brilliant Madeleine Sami, whose timing, quick wit and ability to think on her feet made her an excellent choice for the job.
Sami has an impressive background spanning film, television, directing, comedy and music, and she brought exactly the sort of personality an evening like this needs. Awards ceremonies can occasionally become a procession of names, envelopes and carefully rehearsed speeches. Madeleine kept things lively, delivering hilarious off-the-cuff remarks and holding the fort whenever technical issues or artist changeovers required a little extra time backstage.
She made the evening feel human, which is no small achievement when you're managing a major ceremony with so many people and moving parts.
The performances and presentations provided the formal backbone of the night, but two speeches particularly stayed with me.
Don McGlashan delivered an outstanding speech, impeccably presented and beautifully written. Don has long been one of Aotearoa's most respected songwriters, and there was something fitting about hearing him speak at an event dedicated to the craft itself.
Then came Neil Finn, whose contribution was both thoughtful and deeply personal.
Finn delivered one of the most memorable and heartfelt messages of the evening, reminding us of the vital role music plays in our lives. “Music is just as important as reading and writing, and I think they should dedicate at least an hour a day to every classroom in the country,” he said.
Finn then shared a deeply personal story about his 94-year-old mother-in-law, Velma, who has Alzheimer’s. “She can’t remember our names, but she can sing every single word to Let It Be.”
It was a profoundly moving reminder of the extraordinary power of music, even when memory begins to fade. As Neil put it, “Music is powerful. We don’t even know the half of it.”
He left us with an inspiring message to keep writing songs and making music, not just for ourselves, but for the joy, connection and comfort it can bring to others. Sometimes, a song can reach places that words alone simply cannot.
It's difficult to imagine a more compelling argument for the value of songwriting.
For those of us who write music, whether professionally or simply because we cannot imagine doing anything else, these are the moments that remind us why we keep going. We might never know precisely who a song will reach, when it will matter, or what it might mean to someone listening. We just have to keep creating.
One of the pleasures of attending an event like this as a guest rather than as a journalist on assignment is the freedom to have conversations without constantly thinking about the next interview, the next photograph or the deadline looming over your shoulder.
I had the chance to meet some interesting new people and reconnect with others I've known for years.
One of my new conversations was with Sanaya, a music teacher at Ficino School. Teaching music is a role that deserves considerable respect. Encouraging young people to discover music, learn an instrument, develop their ears and perhaps even write their first song is an investment in the future of the entire industry.
You never know which student might eventually become the next great songwriter, performer or composer.
I also caught up with Simon Mercep, the well-known TVNZ reporter. Simon and I had the pleasure of working together during Covid, although the full story of that experience will have to wait for another time.
There was also a great conversation with Kurt Shanks from Plus1, a fellow New Zealand concert promoter. Having spent so many years working across touring, artist management and promotion, I always enjoy catching up with people who understand the practical realities of bringing international recording artists to an audience.
It's an industry that can look glamorous from the outside, but anyone who has worked behind the scenes knows how much planning, negotiating, problem-solving and sheer determination goes into making a show happen.
I also enjoyed conversations with Nathan Hickey, drummer with Beastwars, Jon Toogood, formerly of Shihad, Stephanie Brown from Play It Strange, Don McGlashan, Lynda Topp and many others.
There were familiar faces everywhere, and more conversations than I could possibly recount.
That, ultimately, is one of the great strengths of these gatherings. They bring together people from different corners of the same creative world, artists, composers, journalists, promoters, educators and industry professionals and give them the opportunity to exchange ideas, share experiences and remind one another that, despite the many different roles we play, we are all part of the same musical ecosystem.
Of course, no music industry evening would be complete without a little technical commentary from someone who has spent time behind a mixing desk.
The formal ceremony was held in a world-class theatre, with a professional sound system and experienced engineers delivering the sort of polished audio you would expect at an event of this standing.
The after-party, however, offered a rather different experience.
There was a DJ, there was plenty of enthusiasm, and there was a sound system that appeared to need some serious sound-engineering assistance. The sound was incredibly middy, that rather unfortunate audio territory where the midrange seems to occupy just about every available inch of sonic real estate.
Having just come from a beautifully controlled theatre environment, the contrast was quite something.
It felt like stepping out of a Rolls-Royce and being bundled into the back of a 1960s Mini.
I'm sure the vast majority of people enjoying the after-party were none the wiser, and nobody seemed particularly inclined to stop dancing on account of a little questionable equalisation. Still, when you've spent years around live sound and recording, you can't always switch off the technical ear.
Sometimes the music journalist in me is joined by the sound engineer, and the sound engineer has opinions.
Fortunately, the conversation, company and general atmosphere more than made up for the shortcomings of the PA.
It's easy to look at an awards ceremony and focus on the trophies, the speeches, the performances and the people whose names appear in the headlines the following morning.
But the APRA Silver Scroll Awards mean something a little different to those of us who actually write songs.
Songwriting can be a solitary business. You sit with an idea, work through the difficult bits, change a lyric, rewrite a chorus, abandon a verse and occasionally find yourself staring at a blank screen wondering whether the whole thing is worth pursuing.
Sometimes the song comes together quickly. Sometimes it takes months. Sometimes you release it and the world barely notices. On other occasions, a song reaches people you have never met and becomes part of their lives in ways you could never have predicted.
There is no guaranteed route to success, and certainly no single formula for writing something that matters.
That's why an evening devoted to the craft itself is so valuable.
As I stood among the people gathered at the Kiri Te Kanawa Theatre, I was reminded that the New Zealand music industry is far more than the artists whose names appear on posters or the songs that make it onto streaming playlists. It is a community of writers, musicians, composers, teachers, technicians, promoters and countless others who help music move from an idea in someone's head to something the rest of us can hear.
For me, personally, the evening was also a reminder of my own journey. From playing drums and writing songs with Hangar 18 to working across artist management, record labels, international touring and music journalism, music has been a constant presence in my life.
I still have hundreds of ideas waiting to be finished, developed or released. Some may become songs. Some may remain fragments. And some might surprise me by turning into something I never expected.
That's the beauty of it.
You keep writing. You keep playing. You keep creating.
And every so often, you get to spend an evening with people who understand exactly why you do it.
The 2026 APRA Silver Scroll Awards was an enjoyable and memorable evening, not least because I could experience it from the perspective of a songwriter rather than a journalist covering the event from the sidelines.
Madeleine Sami brought humour and energy to the proceedings. Don McGlashan and Neil Finn delivered thoughtful contributions that captured the importance of music in our lives. The award winners demonstrated the remarkable breadth of songwriting and composition in Aotearoa, while LEAO's historic victory gave the evening a genuinely significant moment.
The first Silver Scroll win for a song written entirely in Gagana Samoa is something worth celebrating. It represents a step forward for Pacific songwriting and a reminder that the music of this country is strongest when it embraces the many cultures, languages and experiences that make up our identity.
And perhaps that is the real takeaway from APRA's centenary year.
Music is not simply a product to be consumed. It is a means of expression, a record of who we are, a way of connecting generations and cultures, and sometimes the one thing that remains when other memories begin to fade.
As Neil Finn reminded us, we don't even know the half of what music can do.
So here's to the songwriters, the composers, the musicians and the dreamers who keep putting ideas into the world.
Keep writing those songs. Somebody, somewhere, might need to hear them.
Until the next show, this is Paul Marshall from Write Said Paul, signing off, with a few songs still waiting to be written and plenty more music still to be made.
And if you’d like to hear a little of my own music, you can find me on Spotify through my projects below. After all, once a songwriter, always a songwriter!
Hangar 18 - Listen on Spotify
e=mc3 - Listen on Spotify
John Paul - Listen on Spotify
Thanks for reading, listening, and keep supporting live music, keep discovering new artists, and never underestimate the power of a great song.
Until next time — keep the music playing!
The results of the night:
APRA Silver Scroll Award | Kaitito Kaiaka winner
- LALELEI, written by David Feauai-Afaese*, Navakatoa Tekela-Pule*, Levi Gemmell, Larsen Taylor, and performed by LEAO (*Heard and Seen Publishing)
APRA Maioha Award | Tohu Maioha winner
- Puna Ora, written by Charles Looker and Emily Looker, performed by Aro
SOUNZ Contemporary Award | Te Tohu Auaha winner
- Light Lines by Dylan Lardelli
Te Tihi o te Maunga Tito | Kapa Haka Songwriting Award winner
- Te Tapuni written by Rob Ruha, performed by Te Taumata o Apanui (TOA)
APRA Best Original Music in a Series Award | Tohu Paerangi winner
- Claire Cowan for Bust Up
APRA Best Original Music in a Feature Film Award | Tohu Pūmanawa winner
- Karl Steven for Pike River (Heard and Seen Publishing)
Reviewer: Paul Marshall
Photography by Paul Marshall
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