📍 3TEN at ACL Live — July 17, 2025
Written by: Clinton Camper
Esha Tewari’s set at 3TEN on Thursday, July 17 felt like stepping into a perfectly lit coming-of-age film, except the heartbreak was real and we were all in it together. Esha walked out casually, picked up her guitar like it was no big deal, and dove straight into “things i want.” She didn’t have to say much. The crowd was already fully locked in from the first chord.
Her presence is quiet, but commanding. She doesn’t oversell anything; she just sings exactly what she means. “dead horse” and “million times” hit early, and you could see people visibly exhale as if they’d been holding something in all week. Esha makes space for that. She moves through songs like they’re muscle memory, not in a robotic way, but in a way that makes you feel like she lives in every line.
The energy shifted during “waltz” when she asked the crowd to literally form a circle and dance with each other. It was such a simple gesture but it cracked something open—people held hands, laughed nervously, and swayed together like it was their high school formal all over again. That moment lingered, and you could feel it carry into “empty pages” and “bad decision!,” both of which felt sharper and more lived-in than their recorded versions.
By the time she got to “train song,” people were openly crying. And not just quietly—we’re talking full-on tears, mascara be damned. She let the silence hold for a beat after the last note, and it was heavy in the best way. Then she flipped it with “summer in december,” a song that feels like a soft shoulder after a breakdown. Every track had its own weight, its own mood. You could tell she curated the set intentionally, like a conversation that knew where it was going.
Her cover of “Fade Into You” was gorgeous and haunting, but it didn’t feel like a cover. It felt like it belonged to her, like she found her way into it and pulled the whole room with her. Then she played an unreleased track—maybe called “kissing strangers,” based on the lyrics—and it already felt familiar. Like something we’d all be looping the moment it drops.
She wrapped the night with “I Can” and of course, “beautiful boy.” That closer? It’s church. The whole room screamed those lyrics like a breakup exorcism, and Esha didn’t have to ask—we gave her everything. She stood still, let the crowd carry the weight, and looked honestly kind of emotional about it.
No fancy stage effects. No drama. Just a girl with a guitar, a sold-out room, and the kind of quiet command that doesn’t demand attention—it earns it.
We were lucky to be there. And if you were, you know exactly what I mean.