Phone-Free and Awe-Struck for 'Abi & Alan'

📍Moody Theater @ ACL Live — August 24, 2025
Written by Krysta Ayers

On Sunday, the heavens parted at night for a sold-out theater where lucky ticket holders were taken to church with Erykah Badu and The Alchemist. It was the final show of their Abi & Alan Luv is… tour, which gave audiences the full experience of their upcoming album in full before its release on August 29. 

As part of the exclusive, first-listen experience, phones were locked away in crossbody Yondr pouches. We were to be present and attentive and unable to leak any part of the show, no matter how much of a brag it would be to post about being in the same room as Erykah Badu, the Queen of Neo Soul. 

And after witnessing Erykah Badu wax poetic with a live band (The Cannabinoids) and producer The Alchemist, and the lights gradually came back on, my brother, my plus one for the show, leaned over in awe and said what I was thinking: “What are you going to write?” 

How does one capture the holy experience and magical collaboration of the pair? Those were Grammy award-winning producers and artists on stage that we all had the pleasure of watching.  

The stage, with expert delivery, was set to replicate a living-room-turned-studio type of situation. Rugs were laid out, as well as a vinyl shelf with lava lamps and trinkets. It gave the allure of intimacy, as if the thousands of us in attendance were casually invited to this studio session or house party with a live band. Or like we were voyeurs, getting a peek into how these songs were made through their studio windows. 

All the musicians wore black on stage, sitting or standing behind their instruments, which included keyboards, drums, laptops, and drum machines. A tall screen in the middle of the stage, which separated Badu and the Alchemist as if they were in their own rooms, flashed with the track titles of the songs being sung. 

Their single off the anticipated album, “Next to You,” was played—and sounded notches more intense, groovy, and hype than it sounds on Apple Music. For one, both of them left their “rooms” to pace and energize the crowd from center stage. So apparent was their joy of doing this collab; how insanely happy they were to play this work of art for the tenth and final time before the album release. 


Other tracks included “Apostle,” “Echos,” “Valentine,” and “Black Box,” a song emblematic of the woes and nuances of living in our phones. A catchy song titled “Witch Doctor” (or maybe it was “Witch Craft”? I can’t confirm, since the album track list isn’t public) called to attention the trouble with being brainwashed by the media, a talking point relevant in any decade. At one point, we were coming together to sing affirmations with a song called “I Know that Man.” We were healed at the Church of Badu. 

The show was a music lover’s dream. And thank goodness there weren’t phones to obstruct views or distract us from the intimate show in front of us. Badu’s voice is as powerful as ever, and The Alchemist’s erudite construction of beats complemented the soul singer like a lighter to a joint. 


The album will be out this Friday, August 29. Badu will start another tour, the Mama’s Gun Tour, in October, making a final stop in Dallas on December 10.

Rock is Alive and Well with Vision Arcade

📍 3Ten @ ACL Live — August 23, 2025
Written by: Krysta Ayers 

I recently saw a meme that read something like, Men should put down the podcast mics and start forming bands again—and I’m here to report that the bands are being formed again. How lucky are we? 

One such band is Austin-based Vision Arcade, which played a show on Saturday and shared the bill with fellow local bands, Rococo Disco and Flight by Nothing. In a great aural production, we were reminded why attending the local shows is always a good decision.

With a start, Vision Arcade declared the return of rock ‘n’ roll like we were in an early-aughts teen drama with a surprise musical guest (The O.C.’s Bait Shop had The Walkman, One Tree Hill’s TRIC Nightclub had Fall Out Boy…). And with their own twist on the genre, the four-member band—Max Robison (guitar), Rory Kendall (vocals + guitar), Connor Torres (drums), Evan Brock (bass)—is amplifying everything that is right with the rock genre at this moment.

Playing the show to launch their very first vinyl release (a compilation of their best singles), Vision Arcade had a setlist that spanned their career, highlighted the best of their talents, and gave me frisson (a beautiful phenomenon where your body physically reacts to music to give you chills/goosebumps). 

In a musical haze, I witnessed as the band played “Spaceman,” “Youthful Heart,” and “Crazed.” Their sound hinted at The Black Keys, Cage the Elephant, with a little bit of the upbeat and infectious melodies of The Vaccines.

When the band played “Lay Alone” from their 2024 EP Crazed, Rory’s voice moved down an octave for a sultry delivery of the question, “Why don’t you come grab me? / Afraid you’ll stab me?” Connor added punchy drum fills. Evan, on stage in sunglasses, kept the groove cool, and Max’s and Rory’s guitars played high-energy, funky hooks. With “I’m Gone,” Rory plucked his guitar with Willie Nelson’s brand of twang and sang about driving out of Austin. It was a slow shift in pace that head-bopped with every dramatic thump of the beating kick drum. And while these tracks might not be mentioned in the correct order (my phone notes are only semi-decipherable), each track solidified the band as a group to watch out for. 

The eponymous “Crazed” gave Max space to play along his guitar neck, and the wails behind the chorus gave us a sweet introduction to the power and control he displayed for the rest of the show. What a delight to see this live, as well as 2023’s “Hey Honey,” (an immediate favorite), which provided a guitar solo from Max that hyped up the crowd. The way each member played off of each other for that song, while Rory, with keen vocal control, pleaded for his Manic Pixie Dream Girl to love him and “come break my heart,” was impeccable. 

Whether it was Evan’s bass controlling new sections or keeping time of the song with a steady groove, or Max and Connor using their instruments to give the songs their dynamic characteristics, or Rory wielding his vocal range…they made space for rock ‘n’ roll to breathe and be fun again.

I’m so glad the guys are forming bands again.  

Go listen to Vision Arcade.

Long Live Regina Spektor

📍Moody Theater—Aug. 5, 2025
Written by Krysta Ayers

Photo by Shervin Lainez

Under a lukewarm spotlight, Regina Spektor sits behind her piano, her back toward half the crowd, wearing a long white dress which accentuates her ethereal presence, and plays her Midsummer Daydream tour. The crowd is thick with millennial fans who have kept Spektor’s music alive with nostalgic Spotify playlists and burned CDs that were made with the help of Limewire. She taps gingerly at her instrument, and instantly the crowd is swept into the dreamy state of Vans sneakers, painted-on jeans, and layered polos. 

Some of Regina Spektor’s songs are older than UT’s sophomores. I say this to remind myself, and maybe others, that 1) this is a seasoned pro we’re talking about; she has an extensive catalog as an incomparable songwriter and 2) 2009 was not, as a matter of fact, just five years ago. But that’s the year we’re immediately taken back to when Spektor opens up with “Folding Chair” off her 2009 album, Far. Without a supporting band, the song is stripped from the album version’s production, but it does not lack in punch. 

As a one-woman show, Regina Spektor makes any instrument not in her hand superfluous to the songs she recorded for studio albums. 

Spektor also reminds us that her songs are irreverent, sweet, clever, and as imaginative as ever. Her unseriousness is also intact—bolted and silly-stringed inside a piñata. She sings “Reading Time with Pickle” with earnestness, with quick piano notes that dance in the air and vocals that are sharp and clear, and full of inflections. 

The inflections hold us captive. She sings “Better,” and we try to sing along, shyly, because we’re unable to keep up. The same thing happens when “Aprés Moi,” “Us,” and “Fidelity” are played. 

Something magical happens when Spektor plays the piano, keys, and guitar. She is ubiquitous with her talent, and we were (literally) seated in awe as witnesses. She grabs her guitar to strum out the rhythmic notes of “That Time” off her 2006 album, Begin to Hope, and I wish the crowd joined in as she said her boxes of tangerines were “cheap and juicy!” but alas. Instead, we all bob our heads, grinning like millennial teenagers, and tap our feet along to the infectious music. 

And just like that, the show was over. Spektor did a quick, one-song encore with “Samson” and the crowd roared and clapped politely before filing out to end their Tuesday night. And though she didn’t play “Consequence of Sounds,” she played a fantastic list of her epic songs to satisfy any millennial heart or introduce herself to new listeners. 

Two Decades On, The Fray Still Hits Hard

📍 ACL Live — July 26, 2025
Written by: Perrin Boyd

Downtown Austin was humming on Saturday night as The Fray brought their How to Save a Life: The 20th Anniversary Tour to ACL Live. Stepping onstage to a sold-out crowd, the Denver band immediately set the tone for a night that felt less like a victory lap and more like a genuine reunion between old friends. With Joe King now taking over lead vocals, there’s a new spark running through the band — one that still honors the heart and soul that’s kept fans close for nearly twenty years.

From the first notes, it was clear The Fray hadn’t strayed far from their roots. The piano-led arrangements, the steady pulse of the rhythm section, and those soaring, heart-tugging melodies were all there. The setlist balanced the big moments with the deep cuts — staples like “How to Save a Life” and “Over My Head (Cable Car)” sat alongside fan favorites such as “Little House” and “Vienna.” Even newer tracks like “Hurricane” and “Love Don’t Die” slid in seamlessly, proof the band is still adding chapters to its story.

The emotional peaks came in waves. “Look After You” and “Never Say Never” wrapped the room in a collective hush before giving way to swells of applause. When “How to Save a Life” arrived, the band barely needed to sing — King often stepped away from the mic entirely, letting the crowd’s voices fill the room. It wasn’t just nostalgia; it was a shared moment, like the song belonged to everyone there. Midway through, they slipped in a surprise — a cover of The Cranberries’ “Dreams” — and the crowd lit up, singing along to every word.

What stood out most wasn’t just how tight they sounded, but how unforced it all felt. There were smiles between bandmates, small glances of acknowledgment, and moments where the music seemed to take even them by surprise. The songs carried the same intimacy they’ve always had — the kind you can hear alone on headphones, but that somehow expands and deepens when shared with thousands of others.

Two decades on, The Fray still know how to make a room feel something. Saturday night wasn’t just a trip through the past; it was a reminder that their music still has a pulse — steady, strong, and very much alive in Austin.

Waltz, Cry, Repeat: A Night with Esha Tewari

📍 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.

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.