Late Night Drive Home Logs On at Antone’s

📍 Antones — July 16, 2025
Written by: Clinton Camper

On a Wednesday (July 16th) night, Antone’s wasn’t just a blues club—it was the internet come to life, pixelated edges and all, courtesy of Texas’ own late night drive home. The four-piece walked out one by one, frontman Andre Portillo kicking things off with as i watch my life online while a glowing window and doorway flickered behind them, mirroring their debut album cover. It felt intentional, like they were inviting us into their version of the feed—only louder, sweatier, and way more human.

Portillo’s in-between banter was charmingly awkward, the kind of self-awareness that makes you root for him harder. “I love you, I love me too, I love you, Austin,” he grinned, before diving headfirst into terabyte. His vocals had extra grit live, compressed just enough to cut through the swirl of guitars from touring axeman Tofe and the ever-dynamic Juan “Ockz” Vargas, who pushed and pulled each song like he was having a conversation with himself.

The crowd was locked in from the jump, swaying through she came for a sweet time, bouncing to Awkward Conversations, and erupting when the opening notes of Stress Relief hit. Phones shot up, voices doubled the chorus, and for a moment the room felt like one big, collective post—likes in real time. Freddy Baca’s basslines never sat still, sneaking in hooks you could hum all the way home, while Brian Dolan kept the whole thing stitched together with tight, expressive drumming.

Even the more introspective moments—like modern entertainment with its jittery tension or the haunting brevity of 1985—landed with weight in the cramped, red-lit room. By the end, when the last notes faded and the crowd spilled into the humid Austin night, it was clear: late night drive home aren’t just documenting our overstimulated, hyperconnected era. They’re making it sound like something worth logging on for.

A Night with The Psychedelic Furs at ACL Live

📍 ACL Live — July 15, 2025
Written by: Clinton Camper

On July 15, ACL Live at The Moody Theater became a sanctuary for longtime fans and new converts alike as The Psychedelic Furs delivered a career-spanning set that proved their music is as vital in 2025 as it was in the early ’80s.

Richard Butler walked on stage dressed like a man who knows exactly how to own it — black leather pants, a black cheetah-print suit jacket with the collar popped, and a red button-up that caught the light every time he moved. His sharp style was matched by his signature theatrical flair: stretching his arms like a conductor, pacing the edges of the stage, and leaning into the crowd with a knowing grin. From the first notes of President Gas, his raspy, magnetic voice cut through the room with the same intensity that made these songs timeless.

The band wasted no time moving between eras, pairing newer tracks like Wrong Train and The Boy That Invented Rock & Roll with beloved staples like Heaven and The Ghost in You. The crowd — a mix of fans who’ve been with them since the early days and younger faces seeing them for the first time — swayed, sang, and recorded memories on glowing phone screens.

Love My Way hit mid-set and earned one of the loudest cheers of the night, its shimmering marimba-like keys from Amanda Kramer instantly transporting the room. Tim Butler’s basslines remained the steady heartbeat of the performance, anchoring tracks like Mr. Jones and Run and Run with pulsing drive. Deep cuts such as My Time, Until She Comes, and So Run Down were a gift to the diehards, while Pretty in Pink and Heartbreak Beat ignited full-room singalongs that felt like communal celebrations.

The momentum carried right into the final stretch with Forever Now before the band returned for a single encore: India. The hypnotic closer unfolded like a slow-building wave, its mantra-like repetition lulling the crowd into a dreamlike state until the final chord rang out.

Nearly 45 years after their debut, The Psychedelic Furs remain masters of atmosphere and connection. In Austin, they didn’t just revisit their past — they made it feel thrillingly alive in the present.

He Sang, We Swooned: Keshi in Dallas

📍 House of Blues Dallas — July 27, 2025
Written by: Clinton Camper

It’s hard to overstate the magnetism of keshi — but the crowd at The Bomb Factory Tuesday night did a great job trying. From the moment he stepped on stage, draped in a black fishnet top with more holes than fabric, wide-leg jeans chained up like a final boss, and tattoos crawling down both arms, the room erupted. All the girlies (and plenty of boys) were absolutely feral for their soft-spoken, genre-bending king.

Backed by a full band perched dramatically above him — drums, keys, guitar, bass — keshi owned the lower ground with quiet command. He asked if we could top Houston. Challenge accepted.

The crowd was a beautiful mix of diehards, many of them Asian-American, screaming every lyric back to him like gospel. “Dallas fucks,” he laughed mid-set, and based on the decibel levels, he wasn't lying.

It was hit after hit after hit. Limbo sent the room into a frenzy, Forever pulled heartstrings with that signature quiver in his voice, and Understand had couples slow dancing in the back like it was prom night for the heartbreak kids. He told us Drunk was written about throwing up on a walk from 6th Street to West Campus in Austin — and somehow, that made us love it more.

Even when the room got sweaty, a guy with a personal fan fanning the crowd like a local hero kept the moment light. The production? Trippy and glitchy visuals mixed with live feeds of the stage, like watching a Tumblr mood board come to life in 4K.

One of the night’s most memorable moments came when a fan passed up a rice hat. He wore it briefly — crowd goes wild — then said it didn’t match the fit but he was keeping it anyway. Born and raised in Houston, keshi honors his Vietnamese heritage in subtle but meaningful ways. There’s a quiet pride in everything he does, even when he’s joking about his “soft spot for the couples” while breaking every single heart in the room.

By the time he played Just to Die, it felt like therapy. “If you’re going through it, I hope this song is medicine,” he told us. We believed him.

He closed with Euphoria, the crowd fully transformed into his backup choir. Then he disappeared. The crowd screamed. He came back. One final track — ID. The kind of ending that leaves you vibrating in your chest and thinking, this man is going to be a megastar.

Spoiler alert: he already is.

Mereba Made Magic at 3TEN at ACL Live

📍 3TEN at ACL Live (Austin) — July 14, 2025
Written by: Clinton Camper

On a warm Monday night in downtown Austin, the 3TEN ACL Live stage became a portal—one that gently pulled the crowd into Mereba’s world of introspection, soul, and sound. Touring in support of her sophomore album The Breeze Grew a Fire, Mereba delivered a performance that felt more like an intimate gathering than a traditional concert.

Opening with “White Doves,” “Ever Needed,” and “Rider,” she set the tone with effortless grace. Dressed in flowy earth tones, acoustic guitar in hand, Mereba moved with a calm power—her voice gliding over dreamy production and stripped-down arrangements. By the time she hit the simmering chorus of “Counterfeit,” the crowd had already surrendered to the spell.

Mereba is a master of mood and meaning. Her live set blurred genre lines, folding folk, hip-hop, soul, and spoken word into something distinctly her own. Every song carried intention, and every moment between songs added to the story. She shared reflections about new motherhood before easing into “Starlight (My Baby),” a song she wrote for her son, introducing it with a softness that left the room holding its breath. The emotional weight in her delivery was matched by the quiet awe of the audience.

There were playful moments, too. At one point, she paused to laugh with someone in the crowd, showing the same wit and warmth that colors her lyrics. “Planet U” and “Ghost Ride” brought a different kind of energy—groovy, glitchy, and quietly defiant. Her band, a tight-knit trio of keys, drums, and bass, elevated every transition, creating a sonic current that felt alive and ever-shifting.

Highlights included “Phone Me,” which landed like a late-night voicemail you didn’t know you needed, and “Heart of a Child,” which paired deep vulnerability with featherlight instrumentation. The show’s pacing was deliberate but never slow; even its silences felt full.

After closing with “Sandstorm,” Mereba stepped offstage, leaving the crowd cheering for more. The room erupted when she returned for an encore, blending “Bet” with a delicate cover of Sam Cooke’s “You Send Me,” before finishing the night with “Black Truck.” That final track—a fan favorite from The Jungle Is the Only Way Out—hit with familiar comfort and quiet triumph.

Mereba’s Austin performance wasn’t about spectacle. It was about connection, craft, and clarity. In a city known for live music, she stood out not by being loud, but by being intentional. From start to finish, the night felt like a conversation—one we were lucky to be part of.

Architects Hit Dallas at Full Force

📍 House of Blues Dallas — July 27, 2025
Written by: Clinton Camper

It was so hot inside House of Blues Dallas on Sunday night, July 27, that the air felt like it had its own mosh pit. But that didn’t stop U.K. metalcore giants Architects from delivering a set that scorched even harder than the Texas temps.

Frontman Sam Carter stormed the stage in a Members Only-style black shiny jacket and cowboy hat—a bold look that was short-lived. A few songs in, the jacket was off, the sweat was flowing, and the chaos was just getting started. The cowboy hat stuck around a little longer, a perfect nod to the band’s lone star setting, but it was clear from the jump: this wasn’t going to be a fashion show. This was war.

The crowd? Unhinged in the best way. From the first breakdown to the last scream, they were all in—scream-singing every word, throwing fists in the air, and jumping like their lives depended on it. There wasn’t a still body in the room. Every person in that pit knew the lyrics, knew the cues, and knew exactly when to lose their minds. The floor bounced with the collective weight of hundreds of boots and Vans hitting the ground in sync.

And yes, the mosh pit was mandatory—Sam made sure of it, calling for it over and over like a man possessed. At one point, it felt like the entire floor cracked open into a vortex of limbs and rage. The energy in the room was magnetic—borderline spiritual in a very loud, very sweaty, very metal way.

Speaking of possessed, Carter’s vocal range was on another planet. One minute he’s tearing through glass-shattering highs, the next he’s growling from the pit of hell. It’s a sonic rollercoaster that somehow never derails. His voice sliced through the wall of distortion like a blade, landing every line with precision, pain, and purpose.

Also: shoutout to the absolute units of men crowd-surfing their way across the venue. Watching giant dudes get passed overhead like beach balls at a festival was both impressive and mildly terrifying. If you were standing anywhere near the front, you weren’t just watching a concert—you were participating in a full-body strength challenge.

Architects didn’t just play a set—they commanded the room. Every breakdown hit like a freight train. Every build-up felt like a riot about to erupt. Their setlist moved seamlessly between punishing heaviness and melodic moments of release, proving why they’re still one of the most vital forces in modern metalcore.

If you came looking for a night of polite head-nods and casual rock, you came to the wrong show. Architects in Dallas was a full-body, full-volume, sweat-soaked experience. And the heat? Just part of the ambiance.

No Filter, No Shame: Jessie Reyez Live in Dallas

📍 South Side Ballroom — July 21, 2025
Written by: Clinton Camper

There’s something electric about a Monday night when Jessie Reyez is in the building—specifically South Side Ballroom in Dallas, where the air smelled like weed, the crowd screamed like they were auditioning for The Voice, and Jessie delivered a performance that felt more like church for the heartbroken than a pop show.

Dressed in a cute two-piece denim combo, Jessie hit the stage with nothing but joy, humility, and that signature chaotic angel energy. “I’m so happy to be in Dallas,” she beamed—and it showed. Her stage setup was minimal: guitar, bass, keys, drums, and a massive screen flashing between moody clouds and buzzing cityscapes. But the vibe? Anything but minimal.

She danced with her papi during “NO ONE’S IN THE ROOM,” brought out 4 cloned versions of herself on screen for “PALO SANTO,” and somewhere in between, threw in a Drake “Nokia” remix that transitioned into “PSILOCYBIN & DAISIES” as she popped up on a second stage level like a boss, daisies blooming behind her. The girl’s got more stamina than the Energizer Bunny and moves like Beyoncé on a blunt.

And the crowd? Fully unhinged—in the best way. We weren't just singing—we were scream-singing every word, convinced we were background vocalists. Jessie’s 3 rules for the night?

1. No shame zone—introverts and extroverts, be yourself.

2. Leave sounding like an 80-year-old smoker.

3. Leave feeling better than you came.

Mission. Accomplished.

During “IMPORTED,” someone launched a bra onstage and Jessie casually hung it from her mic stand like a trophy. She took time to shout out fans, sign a book, acknowledge a “CHOKE ME” sign (???), wish a happy birthday, and get real about the state of the world—reminding us she’s both Canadian and Latina, and proud of it.

But the peak? A raw, stripped-back “FIGURES” with just her and a guitar. Before diving in, she made us scream “F*CK MY EX” at the top of our lungs over and over—because, therapy.

It’s rare to see an artist so vulnerable, so wild, and so real all at once. Jessie Reyez isn’t trying to impress anyone—she’s just here to feel everything, and bring us along for the ride. And judging by the sweaty, smiling, emotionally wrecked crowd pouring out of South Side Ballroom, we were more than down for it.

10/10 would scream-sing again.

The (extended) Submarine Tour with The Marías

📍 Moody Center — July 13, 2025

Written by: Krysta Ayers
Photos by: Drew Doggett

Silhouetted against a misty blue light, María Zardoya stands in profile with her mic raised as the first notes for “Hamptons” cut through the air and the crowd erupts into cheers. This is the first arena tour for The Marias and it’s an extension of last year’s Submarine Tour, stopping in cities that were missed the first go-around and leaning into the demand from fans. 

When the lights bathe her, and María stands in front of her band, she is a dreamy Morticia Addams, pero con sazón. Her black floor-length, long-sleeved lace dress, with skin and black underwear to show underneath, is juxtaposed with the vulnerable and honest lyrics from the Submarine album, lying bare the raw emotions between her and Josh Conway (drummer/producer/co-founder of The Marías) after their breakup—and in many ways she’s dressed for the funeral of “what once was” while looking towards a new beginning.  

With the moon as her backdrop, María melodically sings about white lies and goodbyes (“Real Life”) as her band turns the Moody Center into a dark, intimate, lounge bar with groovy drums and whimpering guitars (I don’t know how else to describe them). The music turns more dancey and up-tempo with “Run Your Mouth” but the lyrics recount a conflict to be avoided: “When we talk about / everything that happened / I don’t wanna listen / rather sit around.” It’s a good time to remember that María and Josh wrote this album together, and he sits behind his drum kit on stage with her. 

The band plays a sweet cover The Cardigans’ “Lovefool” that delicately blends pop-alt as the band pivots into their 2020 single, “Care for You,” which is laden with the shoulder-moving grooves of Spanish-inspired percussion, topped with María’s honey-dripped voice.  

After see-sawing between albums and emotions, Maria tells an enraptured crowd, “I give you permission to call your ex” and begins “Back to Me,” a single released earlier this year in April. All around me I see people scream-singing the lyrics, some holding onto the person they came with. And for the sake of Mercury going retrograde this week, I hope no one actually called their ex. Such would be the power of María and a well-executed song. (This is perfectly followed by the heartbreaking “Sienna.”)

She dedicates “Lejos de Ti” to her family in Puerto Rico, and later gives a shoutout to her gente latino. She keeps the energy moody, electric, and dreamy. The band plays “Hush” with a practiced flourish, and María even joins the crowd for “Otra atardecer,” the band’s collaboration with Bad Bunny—while wearing a Mexican flag as a cape. The encore includes “No One Noticed,” an abridged version of “Ojos tristes,” and “Cariño.” It is epic. 

The first time I watched The Marías, I was freezing in a random parking lot in El Paso in 2022, watching from afar as the band braved the biting cold of the desert. Now, in a short three years, they are ready for a world takeover in arenas across the nation—playing their hearts out and taking us along for the ride. You’ll want to be there for the next one. 

Nikki Glaser: Alive, Unwell, and Absolutely Unmissable

Written by Clinton Camper

📍ACL Live, June 22—There are two kinds of people in the world: those who’ve been roasted by Nikki Glaser, and those who just haven’t gotten close enough. On Sunday night at ACL Live, Austin got the full Glaser experience—unfiltered, unrelenting, and uproariously funny. And yes, it was completely packed. Every. Single. Seat.

The night opened with a male comic who was very funny… allegedly. Unfortunately, due to ACL Live’s no-phone policy—and the Bandera shots (iykyk) we had before arriving—his name and punchlines were swallowed into the abyss of good-time amnesia. No shade to him, though—he did his job, the crowd was warmed up, and then Nikki took over.

Wearing a pink-and-white jumpsuit and looking like she walked off the set of a glam-rock rom-com, Nikki stepped onstage and never looked back. There was zero crowd work. No improvisation. Just a tightly crafted, brutally honest, and deeply personal set that hit everything from sex, dating, and waxing to aging, mental health, and the endless horrors of modern romance.

The beauty of Nikki’s comedy is how she makes you laugh at the stuff you usually cry about. She’s raw without being mean, vulnerable without being self-pitying, and somehow manages to roast herself harder than any ex ever could. Her jokes land like therapy sessions hosted by your wildest friend—the one who says what everyone else is too scared to admit.

Even with no audience interaction, she had the room locked in. Not a single person was distracted. No scrolling, no side convos, just full attention—something rare these days and totally deserved.

Nikki Glaser isn’t just surviving in a male-dominated stand-up world—she’s dominating. She’s proof that comedy doesn’t have to play nice to be smart, and that pushing boundaries doesn’t mean losing your audience. If anything, it means gaining a fiercely loyal one.

She may call the tour “Alive & Unwell,” but make no mistake—Nikki’s comedy is in peak health.

Cute, Chaotic, Charismatic: A Night With BIBI

Written by Clinton Camper

No opener, no filler, no problem. The Pavilion at Toyota Music Factory belonged to BIBI on June 19—and we were all just guests in her unpredictable, poetic, unfiltered world.

From the jump, the energy was cracked. The girl in front of me was nervously shaking her leg so hard it was loudly squeaking her chair—like her whole nervous system was prepped for impact. Her friend finally had to tell her to calm down. That’s how amped the entire crowd was. And when BIBI finally walked onstage in a schoolgirl outfit, complete with blue pleated skirt and patent kitten heels, she didn’t just enter—she set the tone.

The first stretch of the show felt dreamy: just BIBI, a mic, a cityscape behind her, and later a glowing ocean sunset. She eased into songs like “Midnight Cruise” and “Hangang Gongwon” with a voice that felt smoky, jazzy, and sweet—an artist entirely at ease in her element. The crowd swayed with red heart light sticks in perfect sync, left to right.

She greeted us with: “Hello Irving, it’s my first time visiting… what’s Irving?” Same, girl. But she was warm and witty the whole night, downplaying her English, though she was eloquent and funny as hell. Between songs, she joked that she’s not in the Illuminati (but would let us know if they called), and revealed she’s “not religious because I’m stupid.” Her honesty and humor were magnetic.

When she launched into “Scott and Zelda,” she sat at a school desk, joined by five dancers and a touch of Broadway flair. One thing about me? I love choreo. And BIBI clearly loves storytelling. Even the interludes were theatrical—dark, surreal clips about identity, death, and rebirth. She introduced her alter ego, Eve, a clone birthed from emotional ruin, only to smash the fourth wall and say, “Forget about Eve, BIBI is back,” before unleashing BIBI Vengeance. It had the crowd losing their collective minds.

BIBI’s stage presence is a triple threat of cute, sexy, and unhinged—in the best way. She had us chanting “pack of cigarettes and condoms” like it was gospel. She danced around a fan named Alfredo during “Best Lover.” She performed “FedExx Girl” wearing a fan’s actual FedEx hat. She joked about her lack of a butt (“pancake!”), told us “Binu” (soap) launched her career, and reminded us that paying $60 for light sticks is wild when they’re $5 in Korea (thanks though, she appreciates it).

One of the most wholesome parts? She spent nearly 20 minutes roaming the crowd, asking people what their jobs were. She said she wanted to know us. Really know us. Then she sang “The Weekend” like it was her closing statement.

After teasing an encore, she returned with “PADO,” “Bumpa,” and “Eat My Love.” And just like that, it was over—but she left us feeling seen, loved, and a little emotionally disoriented. BIBI doesn’t just perform; she confesses, jokes, dances, and disarms. She’s a full-on experience.

And if the Illuminati does call? I hope she answers.

Peach Pit Closed the Party, But Briston Maroney Lit the Match

Written by Clinton Camper

June 17, 2025 – South Side Ballroom at Gilley’s, Dallas, TX

I got home and immediately had to write this. My ears are still ringing, and I’m still grinning—there was no way I was going to let the memories of tonight fade without getting them down.

We missed opener Bnny, but walked into a completely packed South Side Ballroom just in time for Briston Maroney to take the stage. And I mean packed. I’m 5’11 and still found myself on my tiptoes trying to catch glimpses of Briston and his band. But once they started, I didn’t want to look away.

Briston was a madman in the best way—jumping around, headbanging, shredding on his guitar like it owed him money, and relentlessly hyping the crowd. He didn’t just ask us to get loud—he demanded more, and we gave it. At one point he had us flapping our arms like birds. At another, he used a cymbal to play a triangle. Is he a rockstar or a stand-up comic? Somehow both.

The energy was nonstop. The 60-minute set flew by. I went in personally more excited for Briston Maroney than Peach Pit and left even more obsessed. I was so impressed, I bought a $45 shirt on the spot—and I’m broke. No regrets.

Song highlights included:

• Paradise

• Small Talk

• Body

• Better Than You

• Caroline

• Under My Skin

• June

• Freakin’ Out on the Interstate

It even felt like the crowd was just as locked in for Briston as the headliner—and honestly, I get it. He’s talented, hilarious, and totally captivating live.

Then came Peach Pit, and they delivered a totally different flavor of fun—but just as dialed in. With 30 massive circular lights behind them, the band lined up shoulder to shoulder and let the music speak for itself.

They joked about being cyberbullied into coming to Texas, admitted the heat was killing them (Canada could never), and made it clear how much Dallas means to them. Gilley’s is the only place they’ve ever played in Dallas—opening for Two Door Cinema Club back in 2019. Back then, they only had one album and were still “workshopping Shampoo Bottles.”

The crowd sang every word to that one tonight—arms in the air, totally in sync, with frontman Neil swaying along with the sea of hands.

Alrighty Aphrodite was another peak moment. Neil flailed and convulsed like a possessed zombie while someone in the crowd yelled, “This song is a banger!” Everyone nearby nodded in full agreement.

They shredded hard to close Private Presley, left the stage, and came back out for an encore. Neil returned alone for Peach Pit, thanking the crowd for helping make his dreams come true before the full band joined in for Tommy’s Party. The perfect ending.

Song highlights:

• Magpie

• Vickie

• Give Up Baby Go

• Techno Show

• Alrighty Aphrodite

• Shampoo Bottles

• Peach Pit

• Tommy’s Party

I came in excited, left blown away, and I’m already counting down until the next time either of them pass through Texas.

Remy Bond Brings her Vintage Dreams to Dallas

Written by Clinton Camper

On Sunday night (June 15), Remy Bond turned the Cambridge Room at House of Blues Dallas into her own sparkling time machine. Greeted at the entrance by a life-size cutout of the rising star, fans packed the room ready to step into her dreamy, throwback universe—and Remy delivered.

With a Grease-inspired opening featuring two dancers twirling to “Beauty School Dropout” in full retro getup, the tone was set for an evening that blurred eras with effortless charm. When Remy appeared—hair perfectly curled, a Hawaiian flower tucked in, and a pinup-style outfit to match—the crowd erupted. If she looked picture perfect, she sounded even better.

Having also caught her Austin stop, it was clear the Dallas crowd showed up strong for the 19-year-old. From the front row to the back, the room buzzed with love for the breakout star as she performed all nine of her released songs, along with a handful of unreleased gems.

Choreographed numbers with her dancers added extra flair, but it was the unexpected moments that stole the show—like when Remy climbed into a life-sized wine glass to deliver a hauntingly beautiful rendition of “Atlantic City.” It was surreal, theatrical, and classic Remy: playful, cinematic, and impossible to ignore.

With a style that nods to vintage Americana but still feels fresh and current, Remy Bond isn’t just an artist to watch—she’s one to follow closely. Last night, Dallas didn’t just meet a star in the making. It danced, sang, and sparkled right alongside her.

Kevin James Brings Self-Roast Comedy to ACL Live

Written by Clinton Camper

Kevin James brought the laughs—and the sweat—to ACL Live on Saturday night for the Austin stop of his Owls Don’t Walk tour, a title that remains unexplained but somehow makes perfect sense by the end of the night. In a packed house, James delivered a no-frills 75-minute set that was classic Kevin: animated, physical, and relentlessly self-deprecating.

From the moment he stepped on stage, James leaned hard into the theme of self-roasting, turning his weight into the night’s running gag with sharp timing and surprising vulnerability. A recurring bit involved the “voice in his head” reassuring him that he’s in perfect health—only for James to quickly admit that the voice is entirely fictional and exists solely to justify his continued eating habits. The same imaginary voice later insisted he could eat anything he wanted, no consequences. The audience howled every time it returned, getting more absurd and delusional with each appearance.

One of the night’s standout stories centered around a parent-teacher conference, where James—at the urging of his wife—tried to “dress nice” and squeezed into an old suit that he absolutely could not fit into. At the school, he found himself in a tiny plastic chair meant for toddlers, stiff-arming the table like a T-Rex, too afraid to bend because his suit was one breath away from a fashion emergency. His physical reenactment of trying to sit while preserving the last thread of dignity (and actual thread) was one of the biggest laugh moments of the night.

James didn’t reinvent the comedy wheel, but he didn’t need to. His style is familiar in the best way: exaggerated expressions, full-body storytelling, and jokes that pull from everyday absurdity. There were no set changes, just a guy owning the stage with pure comedic instinct.

If you came expecting new characters or topical hot takes, this wasn’t the night for you. But if you wanted to see Kevin James make fun of himself for 75 minutes straight—and somehow make that feel both fresh and personal—he absolutely delivered. Austin showed up ready to laugh, and James made sure they didn’t leave disappointed… just maybe wondering what the hell “Owls Don’t Walk” means.

Spellbound: Banks Live in Austin

Written by Clinton Camper

Banks brought all the drama and none of the fluff to ACL Live on Friday night. The stage was dark, the bass hit hard, and from the moment she opened with “Guillotine,” the crowd knew they were in for something intense.

Her set blended old favorites with newer tracks like “Love Is Unkind” and “Delulu,” and it all hit just right. Banks’ voice cut through the fog—sometimes soft and haunting, other times big enough to shake the walls. “Gemini Feed” and “Fuck With Myself” still go off live, but songs like “Contaminated” and “Drowning” brought the room to a quieter, more emotional place.

There wasn’t a lot of banter—just bold visuals, razor-sharp movements, and a carefully built atmosphere. She kept things moving with “Meddle In The Mold,” “Move,” and “Direction,” giving the show some grit and swagger. Even slower moments like “Someone New” and “Stay” didn’t drag—they gave the night a little breathing room.

By the time she launched into “Waiting Game” and “Beggin for Thread,” everyone was locked in. People were yelling lyrics, swaying with their eyes closed, just fully in it.

Banks turned pain into power, and the crowd felt every pulse of it.

Pierce the Veil Break Sound Barriers in Austin

Written by Krysta Ayers

📍Moody Center, June 11—Post-hardcore, screamo pop-punk is not dead. It indeed was not a phase, mom! Pierce the Veil, with opener Sleeping with Sirens, broke sound barriers on Wednesday in front of the most enthusiastic crowd if ever seen at the venue (outside of Kendrick Lamar and Harry Styles). It was a sold out show.

Photo by Drew Doggett

The band covered their entire career with the I Can’t Hear You World Tour setlist and the energy from the crowd was palpable. From 2007’s A Flair for the Dramatic to 2023’s The Jaws of Life, the band’s five studio albums, which have been anthropic to the genre of post-hardcore punk, united the venue into a scream-singing, head-banging assemblage. 

Before the band stepped foot on stage the tone was set by both Sleeping with Sirens—who played an animated set to one of the biggest crowds for an opener—and “El Rey,” the song made popular by Mexican artist Vincente Fernandez, playing through the speakers in between bands. 

Photo by Drew Doggett

They kicked things off with “Death of an Executioner,” an apt follow-up to the off-stage “El Rey” and (though the setlist was probably solidified months in advance) maybe a subtle commentary in the wake of the protests happening in LA. The San Diego-based band then went into “Bulls in the Bronx” from their 2012 album, Collide with the Sky, and see-sawed between that album and Jaws of Life for a few tracks, which worked the crowd into a nostalgic frenzy. Hands were in the air moving from front to back, eyes were locked on the stage, and voices were at full volume to sing along or wail with enthusiasm. 

Photo by Drew Doggett

A snippet of “Where is My Mind?” from the Pixies led into “Floral and Fading” with Vic Fuentes’ voice coming out crisp and powerful.

Photo by Erick Hernandez

An acoustic rendition of “Today I Saw the Whole World” from their 2016 album, Misadventures, saw the band gathered tightly on stage—the slowed-downed melody washed over the crowd like an old familiar blanket. The rest of the show consisted of other favorites like, “Wonderless,” “Hell Above,” and “Caraphernelia.” Loniel Robinson (drums) and Jamie Preciado (bass) kept impeccable time, the soul of each track, as Tony Perry (lead guitar) threaded emo-heavy, alternative chords with effortless savvy.  Each chord, wail, and kick drum pounded into our bodies for a holistic experience. And…my favorite indicator of a great time: no phones in sight for the majority of the show. 

Photo by Erick Hernandez

The crowd played into the frenzy happening on stage like a supporting character in an action movie. They knew exactly how to play their part just as much as the band members they came to see. It cannot be stressed enough how high-spirited, rousing, and overall fun the relationship between artists and crowd was. 

Bookending the show, “Amor Prohibido” by Tejano artist Selena played through the speakers as the band took their final bows, threw guitar picks and drumsticks into the crowd, and bid us goodnight. They had played “Disasterlogy,” “Hold On Till May,” and “King for the Day” for their encore, bringing out Kellin Quinn from Sleeping with Sirens to close out with the latter and now it was time for the crowd to go home. The ringing in our ears was an extra souvenir as we filed out of the venue and spit out into the streets from where we came. Every bit of it was savored. 

Photo by Erick Hernandez

You can catch Pierce the Veil in Austin again later this year when they bring their raucous progressive sounds to Austin City Limits in October. You truly don’t want to miss it.

James Arthur Turns Monday into Magic at ACL Live

Written by Perrin Boyd

James Arthur brought a wave of emotion to Austin, Texas on Monday night, transforming ACL Live into a cathedral of passion – showing that raw honesty and soaring vocals can create a truly unforgettable experience. With the release of his latest album Pisces still fresh in the minds of fans, the performance displayed an artist stepping into a new era while staying deeply connected to the songs and emotions that built his name. Arthur, coming from Middlesbrough, UK, connected with fans, turning the Moody Theater into a space where heartbreak, hope, and healing echoed through every note.  

Though it was a Monday, the energy in the room was a moving experience. Infused with the spirit of Pisces, this tour revealed a deeper, more evolved version of Arthur. Tracks like “All My Love” “KARAOKE” and the aching “Water” blended seamlessly with his older catalog. The Pisces songs felt at home beside hits like “Can I Be Him” and “Rewrite the Stars,” delivering the same emotional gut-punch with a new kind of maturity. His voice soared from ranges you could only imagine but also remained the constant anchor, carrying the weight of every lyric.

Midway through the show, James took a moment to speak candidly about mental health and the messy, beautiful journey of learning to accept yourself. His words weren’t rehearsed – they felt like they belonged to the moment. That authenticity continued with “Train Wreck,” which silenced the theater in the best way – no chatter, no phones, just collective silence and connection.

But the night wasn’t all slow burns – Arthur injected swagger into the set, getting the audience moving and the venue pulsing with rhythm. He performed his infamous cover of Shontelle’s “Impossible” and another unexpected yet beautifully reimagined cover of The Fugees’ “Ready or Not.” His band and back up vocals were smooth and soulful, letting his voice remain the centerpiece while uplifting each song.

The show closed with “Say You Won’t Let Go,” a moment that felt more like a group embrace than a performance. Arms wrapped around partners and friends. Some fans cried. Most smiled. Everyone sang. James Arthur’s ACL Live show was proof that Mondays can carry magic. His voice – gritty, beautiful, and real – cut through the noise of everyday life, reminding us that pain and beauty often walk hand in hand. If you came looking for a concert, you left with something more: a reminder of how music heals.

Righteous and Still Rockin’ — The Righteous Bros take over ACL Live

Written by Clinton Camper

Saturday night at ACL Live felt like flipping through a vinyl jukebox, one iconic tune at a time. The Righteous Brothers—now led by founding member Bill Medley and powerhouse vocalist Bucky Heard—took Austin on a genre-hopping, decade-spanning journey that reminded everyone in the room why these songs still hold weight.

They kicked things off with a blistering cover of “Hold On, I’m Comin’”, immediately setting a tone of reverent, unshakable soul. From there, the setlist blended the duo’s greatest hits with tributes to musical legends—Roy Orbison, The Coasters, George Jones, Little Richard, and even Puccini made appearances, each delivered with charisma and full vocal conviction.

Bucky Heard, stepping into the late Bobby Hatfield’s shoes, earned his spotlight with a stunning rendition of “Crying” and a jaw-dropping take on “Nessun Dorma” that had the crowd erupting in disbelief. His range and control weren’t just impressive—they were theatrical, commanding, and perfectly matched to the emotional weight of the evening.

Bill Medley, now 83, remains a captivating presence. His voice, still rich and resonant, carried “Unchained Melody” with the kind of gravitas that can only come from decades of lived experience. And when it came time for “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life,” he brought out his daughter, McKenna Medley, for a duet that was both charming and heartfelt—bridging generations while keeping the moment personal.

Highlights included:

• A soulful mash-up of “Bridge Over Troubled Water” and “Lean On Me”

• A surprise snippet of “California Dreamin’”

• The signature show closer: “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’” — still spine-tingling after all these years

Despite the setlist being filled with covers and tributes, the night never felt like a nostalgia act. Instead, it was a celebration—of soul music, vocal endurance, and the legacy that Medley and his late partner helped create. And with Bucky by his side, that legacy feels not only intact, but reenergized.

If Saturday night proved anything, it’s that some voices—and some feelings—never fade.

Reminiscing with The Black Keys

Written by Krysta Ayers / Photos by Erick Hernandez

📍Moody Amphitheater — June 7, 2025

As the intro to The Black Keys’ song, “The Breaks,” goes, “Gee, this is the most wonderful thing I ever heard in all my life”—and that’s how hearing the band play to a full amphitheater sounded. The duo comprising Patrick Carney and Dan Auerbach stopped for their No Rain, No Flowers tour and blessed us with a trail mix setlist of their discography to a loud crowd representing every era of The Black Keys. 

With a punch to the ears, the Ohio natives revived long-time favorites like, “Gold on the Ceiling,” “Your Touch,” “Next Girl,” and “Howlin’ For You.” Not exactly in that order. But Auerbach’s voice was crystalline and sharp through the speakers. Every word sang with a genuine comfort, familiarity, and gusto. Carney’s drums, as always, were the heartbeat of every song. The bass and kick drum played up the emotions and energy of each track—and prompted each foot tap and head nod. 

True to the style of seasoned professionals in the rock genre (as I’ve witnessed several times already this year), they played straight through their massive catalog of songs in favor of performing an extra song or two rather than banter or fiddle around for any amount of time between songs. Or that’s what I would like to think the banter gets nixed for at these shows. Either way, the experience of watching these musicians as they do their “job” of performing hit singles and B-side favorites, hits you like a cymbal in the head, reverberating sweet sweet rock n’ roll.

The back half of the setlist included the newest release from the band’s upcoming album of the same name, “No Rain, No Flowers,” which is set to release on August 8. It is more “mature” than the older material, with music that sounds less bravado and more serious. More classic rock than cool, blues-inspired grooves. They play it up louder than the studio recording, maybe in an attempt to match the energy of the show thus far, but as with many crowds hearing a newer release (or their least-favorite) song, they deflated until the next record, “Heavy Soul,” started playing. 

For the rest of the show, the sound was gratifyingly raucous—the quintessential vibe for an outdoor concert from one of this generation’s most recognizable and undoubtedly talented bands. 

Fired up to ask for an encore, the amphitheater became a chorus of cheers. Slowly, with the ease and unhurried pace of a pro, the band came back on to send us off with “Little Black Submarines,” and “Lonely Boy”—again, a perfect choice for the energy at the end of the night. Anyone with assigned seats was standing, and all the lawn ticket holders jumped up as well. We were all (excited, happy!) lonely boys with a love that was keeping us waiting…to sing along, to clap, to rejoice in a favorite band as a community—and to get the fuck out because rock n’ roll does have an end time in the city.

Sweat, Glitter, and Guitars with Beach Bunny

Written by Perrin Boyd

Shots by Erick Hernandez

It was one of those classic Austin nights—90 degrees after sunset, thick with humidity, and no breeze in sight. But that didn’t stop a sold-out crowd from packing into Emo’s for Beach Bunny’s latest stop on their Emotional Gymnastics tour. If anything, the heat added to the wild, sweaty energy that amplified through the venue from the very first note of their cover of Blondie’s “Heart of Glass.” The crowd screamed with the kind of anticipation only a band like Beach Bunny can evoke—a blend of nostalgic ache and Gen Z defiance. Glitter eyeshadow, Doc Martens, and an ocean of pastel hair filled the venue, as fans came not just to listen, but to let go and feel seen.

The Chicago-based indie rock band echoed dynamic sounds of the ’90s, with fuzzed-out guitar and crashing drums paired perfectly with their pop melodies. Lili Trifilio, the dazzling frontwoman, had fans opening up the crowd like the Red Sea, anxiously waiting to scream along to the next song. Unfazed by the heat, Lili delivered raw and honest vocals that cut through the warm haze like cool air.

The whole band was locked in and louder than ever. Jon Alvarado’s drumming was relentless, cutting through the heat with precision and power. Matt Henkels on guitar added an edge to even the most melodic tracks, while Anthony Vaccaro’s bass lines gave the songs their heartbeat—steady and strong.

The setlist featured plenty from their newest album, Emotional Gymnastics, which blends their classic pop-punk edge with more polished, mature songwriting. Songs like “Vertigo” and “Clueless” got huge reactions, with fans shouting every word. “Cloud 9” and “Painkiller” anchored the setlist—one kicking things off like a spark, the other leaving us fulfilled. And, as expected, the crowd came alive for their beloved “Prom Queen,” a song that has clearly become an anthem for a generation trying to make sense of growing up.

In a city known for its live music and summer heat, Beach Bunny managed to rise above both. At Emo’s, they proved they’re not just a band with feelings—they’re a force. Between the heat, the heart, and the volume, it was a night no one in the room will forget soon. Honest, fun, and full of heart, Beach Bunny reminded Austin why feelings and guitars are a perfect match.

The Art of Feeling, Live: Natalia Lafourcade in Austin

Written by Clinton Camper

On Thursday night, ACL Live became a sanctuary of soul, memory, and magic as Natalia Lafourcade took the stage for an unforgettable performance. Touring behind her deeply personal album Cancionera, the Mexican songstress wove a lush, emotional tapestry that moved between the intimate and the anthemic with poetic ease.

Opening with the delicate “Apertura Cancionera” and title track “Cancionera,” Lafourcade set a tone of reverence—not just for the music, but for the cultural and spiritual roots that shape it. Backed by a full ensemble that felt more like an orchestra than a band, she led the audience through a carefully curated setlist that honored love, pain, joy, and heritage.

Standout moments included the heartbreakingly tender “Lo Que Construimos,” the soaring “Hasta la Raíz,” and a jubilant medley of “Mi tierra veracruzana / La Bamba” that had the crowd swaying with hands over hearts. “Nunca es suficiente” and “Tú sí sabes quererme” brought the house into collective catharsis, while her cover of Juan Gabriel’s “Ya no vivo por vivir” served as a goosebump-inducing tribute.

Visually, the stage was bathed in warm florals and soft lighting, echoing the organic beauty of the music. Every note felt intentional, every lyric carried weight. Natalia didn’t just perform—she communed, offering songs as seeds, and the crowd bloomed right alongside her.

After 24 songs and a room full of hearts cracked open, it was clear: Natalia Lafourcade is not just one of Latin America’s greatest musical voices—she’s a living, breathing archive of its soul.

From Enola to Electricity: A Night With OMD

Words by Clinton Camper

Time travel isn’t real, but don’t tell OMD that.

On Tuesday night at ACL Live, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark turned the Moody Theater into a synth-powered time machine, gliding through decades of electronic pop with the precision of pioneers who never lost the spark. From the first pulsing notes of “Anthropocene,” it was clear: OMD didn’t come to coast—they came to electrify.

Andy McCluskey, at 65, moves with the energy of someone half his age, strutting, spinning, and belting like it’s still 1983. Paul Humphreys, ever the cool counterpart, anchored the night with smooth vocals and synth wizardry. Together, their chemistry remains magnetic.

The set was a masterclass in synthpop history. Fan favorites like “Tesla Girls,” “Souvenir,” and “(Forever) Live and Die” brought the nostalgia, while deeper cuts like “Veruschka” and “Kleptocracy” kept longtime fans on their toes. And yes, when “If You Leave” hit, the entire room collectively time-warped to a John Hughes dream sequence.

But the real emotional peak? That one-two punch of “Joan of Arc” into “Maid of Orleans,” complete with cathedral synths and marching snares—pure drama, pure OMD.

By the time “Enola Gay” closed the main set and the encore kicked off with “Look at You Now,” the crowd was fully locked in. And when they ended with their debut single “Electricity,” it wasn’t just a song—it was a mission statement. After all these years, OMD still runs on high voltage.