After a brief period of mysterious inactivity, teased only by a cryptic Instagram post declaring “They’re Back?,” the Brooklyn indie band Tomorrowish returned to the stage last Friday night at Main Drag Music, a rehearsal-space-slash-venue nestled in a guitar-nerd pocket of Williamsburg. Promoted by DIY darling Eel Pit, the night doubled as the live debut for Sink or Swim, a local pop-punk band that appeared already well-practiced in the art of bringing a crowd (mostly, it seemed, friends in band tees and sleeveless tops). Abbie Roper opened the show, first with a solo set, then later moonlighting as Tomorrowish’s guitarist.

Roper, dressed in a “daddy’s little meatball” baby tee and looking something like a pissed-off, post-grunge Joan Jett, ran through a half-shredded, half-swooning set of power chords and upper-register wailing. Her voice, equal parts bratty and celestial, brought a sort of Stevie-Nicks-if-she-was-in-Veruca-Salt energy. She tore through a grimy, unbothered cover of “Before He Cheats,” and later stitched together Fall Out Boy’s “Sugar, We’re Goin Down” with Creed’s “Can You Take Me Higher,” a mashup that felt like it came from deep within the psyche of someone who grew up on 2000s alt-radio and never fully recovered.

Sink or Swim followed, an emo-pop-punk group somewhere between All Time Low and the better parts of early Sum 41. It was, technically, their first show, though judging by the number of people shouting lyrics back at them, one might be forgiven for assuming otherwise. They played like they’d already done the tour circuit, four dudes in t-shirts, drenched in sweat, giving strong “Warped Tour, 2006, Long Island stop” energy. On Spotify, they have just a couple of tracks, like “Sucker for Suffering” and “Respectfully,” all featuring the kind of nasal, bleeding-heart hooks built for car speakers and high school breakups.

Then came Tomorrowish, the ostensible headliners and the reason for the “They’re Back?” teaser on Instagram. Their singer wore what could be described as “a zombie going to boarding school” look, blazer, tie, eyeliner, dead eyes, and fronted a set heavy on double keyboards, ambient interludes, and late-2000s indie melancholia. The effect was amplified by the presence of Abbie Roper on guitar, her earlier firepower now folded into the band’s atmospheric churn, like a match dropped into dry ice.

By the end of the night, the crowd was sweaty and maybe a little deaf from the blaring speakers in the event space of Main Drag. If Tomorrowish had gone missing, as their Instagram suggested, they’d returned not with answers, but with reverb and eyeliner.