ON a recent Sunday night, Liam Finn, a 24-year-old singer and songwriter from Auckland, New Zealand, sat at a long table with cheery friends and fellow musicians at Piadina, a cozy Italian restaurant on West 10th Street. It was his second meal there in two nights.
The restaurant brought back memories of a decade ago, when his family spent three months living across the street while his father, Neil Finn, of the rock band Crowded House, was in town to record his first solo album.
Now, the younger Mr. Finn, who spent his teenage years touring Australia and New Zealand as a member of the band Betchadupa, was in town to promote his own solo debut, “I’ll Be Lightning.”
As Mr. Finn fiddled with his new iPhone, he inadvertently turned the device on its side and was surprised to see the screen rotate itself.
“I didn’t realize you could do it that way,” said Mr. Finn, who was more than willing to play up his home country’s stereotype of being behind the curve.
“I’m from New Zealand,” he said. “We don’t even have computers.”
Next to Mr. Finn sat his friend E. J. Barnes, wearing spangled red Converse high-tops. Ms. Barnes is the sole accompanist for Mr. Finn’s frenetic live shows, during which he jumps from guitar to drums to theremin, using an effects pedal to create hypnotic loops. “She really chills me out,” he said.
Ms. Barnes, the daughter of Jimmy Barnes, a rock star from Australia, has just released a record there. She described her music as “daggy folk” played on acoustic guitar.
Daggy? “It means cheesy,” she said.
Mr. Finn and his entourage were about to embark on a tour that would take them across the country and back, twice, with stops this month on the West Coast opening for Pearl Jam’s Eddie Vedder, a longtime fan and collaborator of Mr. Finn’s father.
“We’ll all take turns driving the van,” said Carly Graham, who manages Mr. Finn, along with Matt Hawkes.
“Except for me,” said Ms. Barnes, “because they say my driving makes them uncomfortable.”
How are Mr. Finn’s driving skills?
“I feel safe with him,” she said. “He’s very responsible.”
The group then headed to the Motor City Bar on Ludlow Street, where a fellow New Zealand musician was spinning a garage rock set. Along the way, Mr. Finn snapped photos of his friends as they huddled in the cold.
“We don’t get snow or winter in Auckland,” said Mr. Finn, who was bundled in a dark military coat that set off his blue eyes and thick, rusty brown beard. A broad-brimmed hat covered his wildly curly hair. “We have barbecues on Christmas, on the beach,” he added, “which is awesome.”
Back home, Mr. Finn said he likes to visit a rocky black sand beach called Piha.
“It’s like something out of ‘Lord of the Rings,’ ” he said, then reconsidered his remark. “But you don’t see any coastline in ‘Lord of the Rings,’ because it’s Middle Earth. So it’s not like ‘Lord of the Rings,’ actually. It’s nothing like it.”
Mr. Finn smacked himself on his forehead. “Why did I bring that up?” he said. “How embarrassing.”