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Tomorrow· Oct 8
Lodge Room, 104 N Avenue 56, Los A…
Bands that broke up before anyone was paying attention sometimes come back to discover a small, stubborn audience kept the records alive without them, and that is a stranger and better thing to return to than fame. This Atlanta group made jittery, sharp guitar music early in the last decade, disappeared, and has resurfaced to rooms full of people who found the songs years after the fact through somebody else's recommendation. The playing is tighter than the loose recordings suggest. A Thursday in a Highland Park lodge hall, upstairs, wood floors, a few hundred capacity and a balcony that fills late. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56. Reunions at this scale draw a specific crowd — people who are pleased rather than nostalgic, which changes the whole temperature of a room.
Coming Soon
Tomorrow
6
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In 2 days· Oct 9
Lodge Room, 104 N Avenue 56, Los A…
Every few years a band arrives that people struggle to describe without listing other bands, and the honest answer for this one is that the drummer is doing something nobody else is doing right now — polyrhythmic, relentless, closer to a machine failing than to rock drumming. Around that sits vocals somewhere between chant and panic and guitar that functions mostly as texture. The New York noise underground produced them and the internet spread them faster than that scene usually manages. Live is where it makes sense; the recordings sound difficult and the room sounds physical. Sets are short, which is correct. Highland Park's upstairs lodge has the volume headroom for it. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56 on a Friday. Bands like this one get passed between people as a dare, and the room ends up full of everyone who took it.
Coming Soon
2 days away
6
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In 3 days· Oct 10
Lodge Room, 104 N Avenue 56, Los A…
Writing in two languages inside one song is not a stylistic choice for everybody who does it — for some people it is simply how thinking works, and the music that comes out of that is harder to categorize and considerably more honest. Luz Elena Mendoza Ramos makes records about faith, family and being Mexican-American in the Pacific Northwest, built on folk structures that keep dissolving into something more experimental. The voice is the instrument; live it goes places the recordings only hint at. Their audience is devoted in a way that suggests the songs did real work for people. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall, wood floors, a balcony, a few hundred capacity. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Saturday. Rooms on the eastside where this music lands are full of people who have been waiting a long time to hear their own two languages sung back at them.
Coming Soon
4 days away
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In 5 days· Oct 12
Lodge Room, 104 N Avenue 56, Los A…
Every autumn the light goes long and gold in the late afternoon and something in you starts looking for a wood to get lost in. Ten episodes aired in 2014. That was the whole thing. And somehow a generation now marks the turn of the season by rewatching them, in order, with the good candle lit. The band on this stage is the reason. They wrote the score — the frog songs, the tavern rounds, the glass-harmonica dread underneath the pretty parts — and they play it live with the same battered instrument cases and close harmony that made a children's cartoon feel like a folk record somebody found in an attic. Expect the room to sing back without being asked. Expect people in cloaks who did not coordinate and are delighted anyway. The crowd here skews people who found the show alone, at night, and assumed nobody else knew. They were wrong, and that discovery is most of the joy of the evening. Music at 8:00 PM at the Lodge Room in Highland Park. There is a second night after this one, and it sells out the same way.
Coming Soon
5 days away
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In 6 days· Oct 13
Lodge Room, 104 N Avenue 56, Los A…
The second night of a two-night run tends to be the looser one, and for a show built around a ten-episode cartoon that people watch every autumn like a liturgy, looser is an improvement. This is the band that actually wrote the score — the tavern songs, the frog numbers, the parts that made a children's program sound like a lost folk record. Playing it live, in costume, to a room that knows every word, produces something closer to a singalong than a concert. The people who come to the second night are frequently the ones who came to the first and could not leave it at that. Highland Park's old Masonic hall is upstairs, wood-floored, with a balcony. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Tuesday in October. Whether the leaves turn where you live or not, this is how a lot of people in this city mark the season now.
Coming Soon
7 days away
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In 8 days· Oct 15
Lodge Room, 104 N Avenue 56, Los A…
Country songs written by somebody who clearly grew up on punk records land differently — the phrasing is off in the right ways, the jokes are meaner, and the sad ones do not ask permission. Ballgame works that seam, playing what is nominally honky-tonk to rooms that are mostly not country audiences and winning them anyway. The band is tight in the way bar bands get tight, from playing constantly rather than rehearsing. There is a real Los Angeles country scene right now, mostly operating out of a handful of eastside rooms, and it is one of the more genuinely surprising things happening in this city musically. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall is one of the rooms where it surfaces. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Thursday. Anyone who follows this particular scene will tell you the bills change constantly and the same eighty people are always there.
Coming Soon
8 days away
5
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In 9 days· Oct 16
Lodge Room, 104 N Avenue 56, Los A…
Owing a debt to a record label is embarrassing to explain to anyone who has not felt it, and some of us learned taste from a catalog number anyway. Peanut Butter Wolf started this one in 1996 after his partner Charizma was shot and killed, and the whole thirty-year run since has been a man refusing to let a good thing end quietly — which is why the roster wandered so far from rap and nobody minded. Tonight is the proof of that wandering: a synth-punk trio and a bedroom-soul project sharing a bill with the label's own founder in the building. The Highland Park room holds a few hundred people and has a balcony that fills first with the crowd who owns the vinyl. Watch for the merch table; label anniversaries are when the vault reissues surface and they never make it online. Music at 6:00 PM, upstairs at 104 N Avenue 56. Two more nights follow this one, and the people who come to all three tend to find each other by the second.
Coming Soon
9 days away
5
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In 10 days· Oct 17
Lodge Room, 104 N Avenue 56, Los A…
A DJ set from a label founder is usually a courtesy booking, and this is the exception — the man has spent thirty years buying records with an obsessiveness that borders on illness, and the sets are audio-visual, mixing video with the music in a way almost nobody else does live. He started the label in 1996 after his creative partner was killed, and everything since has been built on refusing to let that end quietly. The afternoon slot is deliberate; it makes this the daytime centerpiece of a three-night anniversary rather than a club night. Expect deep catalog, expect records you will spend a week trying to identify. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall, wood floors, balcony. Doors and music from 2:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Saturday. The people who come to all three nights of this treat it as a reunion, and by the second afternoon they have found each other.
Coming Soon
10 days away
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In 11 days· Oct 18
Lodge Room, 104 N Avenue 56, Los A…
Closing a three-day label anniversary with the act that sounds least like the label started is either a mistake or the entire point, and given who runs this catalog it is obviously the second. Mild High Club makes woozy, jazz-inflected pop that drifts slightly out of tune on purpose, and it became one of the most streamed things the label ever put out without resembling anything else on it. A Sunday afternoon slot changes the whole character — daylight, a wooden room, people who have been at this for three days running. Highland Park's upstairs hall, balcony above, music from 2:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56. Three-day runs create their own small society by the last afternoon, and this is the part where everybody who made it through says goodbye to each other.
Coming Soon
12 days away
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In 13 days· Oct 20
Lodge Room, 104 N Avenue 56, Los A…
You can spend a decade with a singer's voice and never quite decide whether you like it, which is the strange contract this particular writer has with his audience — a warble that fights the melody, lyrics stacked with imagery that should collapse and somehow does not. Two bands' worth of people found him through the same 2005 record and then split off into camps depending on which project they followed after. Solo, stripped to piano, the writing has nowhere to hide and turns out to hold up completely; the songs everybody knows loud become something quieter and more upsetting. Highland Park's old Masonic hall upstairs is a wood-floored room with real reverb and no barrier, which is the correct setting for one person and an instrument. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Tuesday. He also plays a desert date on this run, and a number of people go to both.
Coming Soon
14 days away
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A record made alone in a bedroom in Sweden, uploaded with no expectation, became one of the most passed-around albums of its corner of the internet — blown-out guitars, drums recorded badly on purpose, a voice cracking under material about being young and overwhelmed. The people who found it treat it as private property. That is what makes the live show unusual: an audience that mostly encountered this music in headphones at night, standing in a room together and discovering they are not the only one. Touring at all is relatively new for this project, which adds to the sense that the show is a slightly improbable event. Highland Park's upstairs hall, wood-floored, a few hundred people. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Thursday. Records that spread entirely by recommendation build audiences who already feel like they know each other.
Coming Soon
13 days away
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In 14 days· Oct 21
Lodge Room, 104 N Avenue 56, Los A…
Some records are short on purpose because the feeling they are describing does not last long either. Fifteen songs, twenty-eight minutes, most of them ending before you are ready — that was the trick, and it worked on a specific kind of person who was nineteen and could not say the thing out loud. Ten years later those people are in their thirties and they still know every word, which is going to be audible in this room. Greta Kline put out something like fifty releases to Bandcamp under other names before this album existed, most of them recorded on a laptop in a bedroom, and that history is why the live show still feels handmade rather than staged. The Highland Park venue is a converted Masonic hall with a wooden floor and no barricade, so the front is close and the sound is warm rather than loud. Music at 8:00 PM. Anniversary shows tend to bring out the people who have not been to a show in years, which makes the crowd itself part of what you came for.
Coming Soon
17 days away
7
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Theatrical rock made by people who are obviously having a wonderful time is deeply unfashionable and completely undefeatable in a live room. This Arizona band writes songs with narrative arcs, key changes that should not work, and a horn part when a horn part is funny — the sort of thing that finds its audience through video games, animation communities, and the general internet rather than through radio. Their crowd is young, extremely online, and knows the words to material that never charted anywhere. Expect the room to handle whole sections unprompted. Sunday evening in an upstairs Masonic hall in Highland Park, wood floors, no seats. Music at 7:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56. Fandoms built in Discord servers and comment sections are the ones most likely to turn a normal concert into something closer to a convention, and that is the atmosphere here.
Coming Soon
15 days away
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Los Angeles has always produced bands that are half joke and entirely serious about the playing, and the ones that work are the ones where the musicianship makes the premise land instead of undercutting it. This is a local booking rather than a touring stop, which changes the room completely — the audience is friends, other bands, and people from the neighborhood rather than ticket-buyers who follow a tour. Nights like this are where an eastside scene actually happens, as opposed to where it gets documented. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall, wood floors, an early door for a Friday. Music at 7:30 PM at 104 N Avenue 56. Local bills in rooms this size are the least documented and most load-bearing part of a city's music, and they are almost impossible to find unless somebody tells you.
Coming Soon
17 days away
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You used to go to shows. Then you had a kid, and the math stopped working — the babysitter, the 9 PM doors, the guilt either way. That trade is the ache this fixes, and it fixes it by refusing the premise. A live band plays the songs at real volume through the real PA, and the floor stays empty of chairs on purpose so that the children can move however they want during it. Nobody shushes anybody. Parents end up dancing harder than the kids, which everyone pretends not to notice. The format has run for years in rooms like this one and the unwritten rule is that you arrive early enough to claim floor space near the stage, because the front two rows are where the four-year-olds organize themselves into something resembling a pit. The Highland Park hall has a balcony for anyone who needs to sit down and watch it happen. Music at 11:30 AM, all ages, upstairs at 104 N Avenue 56. It runs most months with a different songbook, so the families who come once tend to come back.
Coming Soon
16 days away
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Songs about specific American places written by somebody who has clearly never been to most of them create a peculiar kind of homesickness — for a country assembled out of sports statistics, half-remembered history and local news. This Queens duo has been doing that for a decade at a scale that stayed deliberately small, guitars recorded roughly, vocals delivered like someone talking fast because they might get interrupted. The details are the whole thing; almost every song contains a proper noun that sends people to look something up afterward. Live it is louder and looser than the recordings and the between-song talk is part of it. Highland Park's upstairs lodge, wood floors, a few hundred capacity. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Saturday. Bands this size survive on people making other people listen, and the room is a gathering of everyone who was successfully made to.
Coming Soon
19 days away
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Jazz gets sold as either a museum or a homework assignment, and both framings keep out the exact person who would love it most — someone who likes texture, patience, and a horn that sounds like it is thinking. This is the other kind. The bandleader plays trumpet in an indie rock band the rest of the year, records for a Chicago label that treats an album like an environment rather than a set of solos, and the result is music that people put on to feel a certain way in a room rather than to admire technique. Live, the arrangements loosen considerably; the recorded versions are the outline. Expect long stretches where nobody is soloing at all and the whole band is just holding a color. The Highland Park venue is upstairs in an old Masonic lodge, which means high ceilings and a natural reverb that suits this music better than a jazz club would. Music at 8:00 PM. If this lands for you, the label it comes from has a deep bench of players who rotate through the same rooms all year.
Coming Soon
18 days away
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Recording an album inside a grain silo, an abandoned church, or a nineteenth-century opera house is the kind of decision that sounds precious until you hear what the rooms did to the sound. This Canadian band has spent twenty years choosing buildings the way other people choose producers, and the results are records where the reverb is a real physical space rather than a plugin. Live that quality does not entirely transfer, so what you get instead is the songwriting stripped bare, which turns out to hold. The singer's voice is the fragile-sounding kind that never actually cracks. A Monday in an upstairs Masonic hall in Highland Park, with wood floors and high ceilings and a room that will go quiet, is about as close to the recording conditions as a tour can get. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56. Monday audiences self-select down to the people who really meant it, which suits this music exactly.
Coming Soon
20 days away
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Four women from a seaside English town making guitar pop that refuses to be earnest about anything is a formula with a long history, and this band updates it with better jokes and a rhythm section that has clearly listened to a lot of dance music. The songs are about being in your twenties and unimpressed. Live they are considerably louder than the recordings suggest and the between-song banter is a real part of the act. British bands at this stage of a career play American rooms this size once, before the audience triples, and the people who catch that window are insufferable about it forever. Highland Park's upstairs hall holds a few hundred with a balcony. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Wednesday. The circuit of UK bands passing through eastside rooms this year is unusually strong and worth following.
Coming Soon
21 days away
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A rapper whose delivery sounds like a cartoon character telling you something genuinely sad is a hard sell in a paragraph and an easy one in a room. The Detroit artist raps in a strangled sing-song that is instantly recognizable and, once you adjust, extremely funny — jokes stacked on jokes until a line lands that reframes all of them as a hard life described cheerfully. He comes out of a Detroit collective that has spent the last several years being the most interesting thing in underground rap. Live he leans on the humor and the crowd responds accordingly. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall is a few hundred people, wood-floored, with a balcony. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Thursday. This whole Detroit scene travels through rooms this size, and the people who follow it turn out for every one.
Coming Soon
22 days away
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Billing a show as a specific one-off rather than a tour stop usually means somebody has built something for the night that will not exist again, and those are reliably the better tickets. Whatever the staging turns out to be, the underlying material sits in the melodic, slightly theatrical end of guitar music, and the audience for it is local and invested enough to turn out on the Friday before Halloween when the whole city has other options. That competition is the interesting part; a room that fills anyway on a night like that is a room full of people who chose it deliberately. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall, wood floors, balcony. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56. One-night productions are how bands at this scale make a case for themselves, and the people who show up are the ones who already believed it.
Coming Soon
23 days away
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Halloween in this city is not really about costumes for a certain crowd; it is about the one night when dressing the way you already want to dress requires no explanation. Music built out of drum machines, French-accented vocals and synth lines that sound like a film score to a movie nobody made is the natural soundtrack to that, and this project has been supplying it since the height of the last synth revival. The producer behind it has an unmistakable signature — everything drenched, nothing rushed. Live it is more physical than the records suggest and the room tends to arrive dressed. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall, wood floors, balcony above, a late door. Music at 8:30 PM at 104 N Avenue 56 on Halloween night. The eastside goth and synth crowd treats this particular night as an annual meeting, and it looks like one.
Coming Soon
27 days away
7
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Guitars processed until they stop sounding like guitars, drums recorded so close they distort, and a singer delivering deadpan lists of ordinary objects until the whole thing becomes unbearable — it should be an endurance test and is instead one of the most exhilarating live acts working. The Dublin group broke up, reformed, changed their name, and kept getting more extreme. Their records are famous among engineers for sounds nobody can identify. In a room this size the volume becomes the point; people describe it afterward in terms of physical sensation rather than songs. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic lodge has the ceiling height to take it. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Wednesday. Shows like this get recommended person to person with a warning attached, which is usually how the best ones travel.
Coming Soon
26 days away
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Making a record entirely alone, playing every instrument on it, is usually a sign that something went wrong — a band dissolved, a relationship ended, a year happened. In this case all three, and the result is the least polite thing this writer has made: rhythmic, blunt, funny in the way people get when they have stopped performing okayness. The earlier records won over a folk-adjacent crowd who may be surprised by how much of this one is built on drums and distortion. Live she is a genuinely commanding presence and talks to the room more than most, which turns a set into something closer to a conversation. Highland Park's upstairs lodge holds a few hundred with a balcony and good sound. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56 on a Tuesday. Rooms this size are where the people who have followed a writer for fifteen years end up standing next to whoever just found her.
Coming Soon
28 days away
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Ghanaian-Australian is not a combination American music has much room for, which is part of why this artist arrived sounding unplaceable — funk, punk, rap and new wave stacked without any of them winning, over lyrics about racism and depression delivered with more energy than either subject invites. The live show is the reason people become evangelical about it: a band in matching uniforms, choreography, a performer who treats a stage as something to be used entirely rather than stood on. He built the reputation on that before most of the audience had heard the records. Highland Park's upstairs hall is smaller than his usual and that is the appeal. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Thursday. Shows that outperform their recordings by this margin generate a specific kind of word of mouth, and it moves fast.
Coming Soon
31 days away
5
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Being fifteen in a basement with a band playing four feet away is a formative experience that a lot of adults have quietly never replaced, and the Ohio pop-punk that soundtracked it has turned out to have a much longer half-life than anyone predicted. This band belongs to that specific mid-2000s Warped Tour lineage, and the people who show up now are largely the same ones who were there then, plus a younger crowd who found it through a revival that nobody in the industry saw coming. The songs are short, fast, and built entirely around the last chorus. Expect the room to handle most of the vocals. Highland Park's upstairs hall has a wood floor and no seats, which is the required configuration. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Sunday. Everyone in the room has one specific person they went to these shows with, and this is the night they text them.
Coming Soon
30 days away
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Heavy psych is usually an excuse for a jam, and the reason this trio from Rochester built the following they have is that they treat it as composition instead — pieces that develop, resolve, and end when they should. They released three albums in a single pandemic year as a deliberate project, which is the kind of thing that either destroys a band or cements one. The audience is heavily overlapping with the stoner-rock and desert-rock world but skews more patient. Live the low end is enormous and the sets build over an hour rather than resetting. Highland Park's upstairs hall, wood floors, high ceiling, no barricade. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Saturday. This whole corner of heavy music runs on people trading recommendations rather than on any industry, and the rooms reflect it.
Coming Soon
29 days away
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Some rap records refuse to be background. They will not go ambient, they make you stop what you were doing and go back fifteen seconds because a line landed sideways and you need it again. Two writers, both of them dense, neither of them interested in making it easier for you — one has spent a career declining to show his face in press photos, which tells you most of what you need to know about the priorities here. Live, the delivery is quieter than the records suggest, almost conversational, and the room goes correspondingly silent. People mouth along. Nobody films the whole song. The Highland Park hall is upstairs, wood-floored, a few hundred capacity, and the sightlines are good enough that the back is not a punishment. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56. The audience for this is small, specific, and unusually literate about it — which is the entire reason people who love it keep sending each other the shows.
Coming Soon
36 days away
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Bands who never once tried to be respectable age better than bands who did, and this Nashville trio has spent fifteen years being cheerfully disreputable — boogie rock, country shuffles, songs about drinking and getting by, played well enough that the joke never becomes the ceiling. They came out of a garage scene and drifted steadily toward honky-tonk without ever announcing a change. The live show is loose in a way that reads as sloppy for about two songs and then obviously is not. Highland Park's upstairs hall, wood floor, no seats, a Friday night. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, first of two. Bands like this build an audience one bar at a time over a decade, and the people in the room have usually been coming since something much smaller.
Coming Soon
35 days away
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Second nights of a two-night run are where the setlist stops being a setlist, and for a performer who mostly does not use one anyway that means the show can go almost anywhere. Alone with a guitar in an open tuning, moving constantly, the Swedish songwriter fills rooms far larger than this one and has been doing it for the better part of twenty years without adding a band to help. The playing is the part people underestimate — fast, intricate, closer to folk-blues technique than to strumming. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall has wood floors and the ceiling height to let a single voice carry. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Thursday. Two-night stands in a room this size turn an audience into something more like a congregation, and by the closing evening the front of the room is all returning faces.
Coming Soon
34 days away
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One man, one guitar, tuned to something that is not standard, singing in a voice that sounds like it has been dragged across gravel — the comparison everyone reaches for is obvious and unhelpful, because what actually distinguishes this is the guitar playing, which is fast, unusual, and almost never simply strummed. Kristian Matsson is Swedish and has been doing this for the better part of two decades, filling rooms considerably larger than this one by moving around a stage constantly, alone, like a much bigger band. There is no setlist most nights. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall, wood floors, high ceiling, the natural reverb doing real work on a solo performance. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Wednesday, with a second night after it. Two-night runs at this scale mean the people who come both times end up recognizing each other, which is half of why they book them that way.
Coming Soon
37 days away
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Booking the same band two nights running in a room this size bets on an audience that comes back, and for a Nashville trio built entirely on live reputation it is usually a safe one. The second night tends to be looser, longer, and more inclined toward the country end of a catalog that has drifted that direction for a decade. Nothing about this is precious — boogie rhythms, pedal steel where it helps, songs about ordinary bad decisions delivered without a shred of moralizing. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall, wood floors, balcony above. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Saturday. Two-night stands are how a touring band turns a city into a place it belongs rather than a stop, and the regulars can tell the difference.
Coming Soon
40 days away
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Two people who were in a relationship making a record about being in that relationship, and then continuing to tour it, is a premise loaded enough that it would be interesting even if the songs were bad. They are not. The material is playful and specific, pop built on odd instrumentation and vocal interplay that only works because the two voices were designed around each other. Live it is warmer and funnier than the recordings, with a lot of talking. A Tuesday in an upstairs Masonic hall in Highland Park means a small self-selected crowd rather than a casual one. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, the first of two nights. Projects this personal draw audiences who feel implicated by them, which makes for an unusually attentive room.
Coming Soon
38 days away
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Songs written at a piano about the exact thing you have not said out loud are a genre unto themselves, and the people who need them need them badly. Wrabel spent years writing for other artists before releasing his own material, which shows in the construction — nothing wasted, every second chorus doing something the first did not. His audience is unusually open about what the songs have meant to them, and the shows tend to include a lot of people crying without embarrassment, which is a strange and good thing to be in a room for. Between-song talk is a real part of it. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall is intimate enough that this works rather than curdling. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Sunday. Nobody comes to these alone by accident; almost everyone brought the person they needed to bring.
Coming Soon
41 days away
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Adding a second night in a room of a few hundred says the first one moved faster than anybody expected, which for a project this specific is a genuinely good sign about where taste is heading. The songs are duets in the true sense — two voices written around each other, arrangements built on instruments chosen for character rather than power. Midweek shows strip out anybody who is casually curious, and what is left is a room that already knows the words. Highland Park's upstairs lodge has wood floors and a balcony and sounds better than it has any right to. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Wednesday. Consecutive nights in a small room are how a scene finds out it is bigger than it thought.
Coming Soon
43 days away
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Naming a project after the phrase people text each other at 2 AM sets an expectation, and the songs deliver on it — bedroom pop that is more structurally ambitious than the genre label suggests, with arrangements that keep adding parts until a small song becomes a large one. The material comes out of the specific online ecosystem where an artist and an audience talk to each other constantly, which means the room already has in-jokes. Live shows for projects like this tend to feel less like a performance and more like a gathering that happens to have a stage. Highland Park's upstairs hall, wood floor, balcony above. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56 on a Friday. Everyone here found this the same way, alone, and the recognition of that is most of what the night is.
Coming Soon
39 days away
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A record can arrive at the exact moment you needed permission to like yourself, and afterward you are never entirely objective about it. That one did that for a lot of people in 2016 — an album about Chicago, about water, about being a Black woman and refusing to make that legible for anyone else's comfort, built out of gospel bones and pop hooks and interpolations of songs you half-remember from a car radio. She was teaching poetry to teenagers through a youth writing organization when she made it, and the record still moves like something written to be read out loud to a room rather than streamed alone. Anniversary sets tend to run the sequence straight through, which for this album means the emotional arc actually works instead of being shuffled. The Highland Park venue holds a few hundred and has a balcony that gives you the whole room at once. Music at 8:00 PM. The people who show up to this one already know each other's names from other rooms, and it shows.
Coming Soon
42 days away
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The band that formed out of the wreckage of an argument about what country music could be has now been going considerably longer than the one that caused it, and the catalog holds up better than the mythology suggests. Jay Farrar writes in a register that never lifts, which makes the occasional moment of warmth land like a change in weather. Thirty years on the material about work, roads and the middle of the country reads less like nostalgia and more like documentation. Live the band plays it straight and loud. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall, wood floors, high ceiling. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Thursday. He plays a desert date on the same run, and a number of people in this room will be at both.
Coming Soon
44 days away
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Watching one person build a song in real time out of loops, without it collapsing, is a specific kind of tension that recordings cannot reproduce — every layer has to land or the whole thing falls apart in front of everybody. That is the entire premise here: a Texas musician surrounded by hardware, constructing bright, propulsive instrumental pop live rather than triggering it. The songs are melodic enough to work as pop and repetitive enough to work as dance music, which is a narrow place to stand. He has been doing it long enough that the failures no longer happen and the crowd has stopped expecting them. Highland Park's upstairs hall has the ceiling and the floor for it. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Saturday. Live-looping shows draw the people who make music themselves, and that crowd asks better questions afterward.
Coming Soon
45 days away
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Sampling nineteen-sixties pop records into something that sounds like a half-remembered childhood was being done in a bedroom in Los Angeles years before anybody had a name for it, and the person doing it has never particularly cared about being credited for that. Pamela Valfer's records came out on small labels at the turn of the century, went out of print, and were rediscovered by a generation that found them through the same internet channels that made the whole aesthetic ubiquitous. An evening framed this way — with friends, informal, in a room this size — is closer to a listening party among people who care than to a concert. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall, wood floors, a Sunday night in November. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56. Nights built around a scene rather than a headliner are where you find out how many people around you have been quietly keeping something alive.
Coming Soon
61 days away
5
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Drummers who lead their own bands usually overplay, and the reason this one does not is that he spent years as the guy other people called when a record needed rhythm that sounded like a machine and breathed like a person — including a famous last album by an artist who wanted exactly that. Under his own name the project is a different animal: electronics, synths, and drumming that treats a groove as something to erode rather than repeat. It reads as jazz on paper and lands closer to electronic music in the room, which is why the crowd is split between conservatory players and people who came for the beats and did not know they were at a jazz show. Highland Park's upstairs hall has the ceiling height this needs. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Tuesday in December. The players who come to this one usually end up at each other's gigs around town for the rest of the month.
Coming Soon
64 days away
6
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Irish traditional music played by people who also work in jazz and electronic production sounds like a bad idea described out loud and like an obvious one once you hear it. The core of this project is a uilleann piper — an instrument that takes roughly a decade to become competent on and sounds like nothing else — placed inside arrangements built by players from a completely different world. The result keeps the ornamentation and the modal feel while the ground underneath moves in ways trad never does. Live it is largely instrumental and builds slowly. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic lodge, with its wood floors and natural reverb, suits pipes better than almost any club would. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Friday in December. Trad players in this city are a small and closely connected group, and a booking like this is when they all turn up in one place.
Coming Soon
63 days away
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Guitar bands that sound like 1994 without being a revival act are having a genuine moment, and the reason this one keeps getting singled out is the songwriting underneath the fuzz — hooks that would survive an acoustic guitar, split between two vocalists who trade rather than harmonize. Indianapolis is not a scene anybody watches, which is usually where the good ones come from. They went from almost nothing to a real touring schedule quickly and are still playing rooms small enough that it feels early. Highland Park's upstairs hall on a Thursday in December, wood floors, a few hundred people, a balcony that fills late. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56. The current wave of this sound is being carried almost entirely by people telling each other, and the rooms are where you find out how many of them there are.
Coming Soon
51 days away
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Grief written down carefully enough stops being self-indulgent and starts being useful to other people, which is the transaction at the center of this catalog. Rundle came up through Los Angeles heavy music, played in bands loud enough to damage hearing, and makes solo records that are quieter and considerably more frightening. The guitar playing is in open tunings that ring in ways standard tuning cannot, and live she performs largely in the dark. Rooms go completely silent. Her audience crosses metal, folk, and the general population of people having a hard year, which produces one of the more unusual crowd compositions in music. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall is the right scale and the right acoustics for it. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Coming home to a room like this at the end of a holiday weekend is its own kind of correct.
Coming Soon
66 days away
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Hometown runs at the end of a year are less about the setlist than about who turns up, and for a band that formed behind the counter of a record store in this city the answer is most of a scene. The music is sixties-derived and unmistakably Californian — reverb, jangle, a melancholy that sits underneath rather than on top. A decade in, the deeper catalog is where the interesting material lives and second nights are where they play it. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall on a Sunday in December, wood floors, balcony above, the last stretch of the year. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56. Sunday closing nights of a two-night hometown stand draw the people who have been going since the beginning, and it shows in the room.
Coming Soon
65 days away
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A band that formed while its members were working at Amoeba Records is almost too on the nose for this city, and the music turned out exactly as that origin predicts — sixties garage and jangle filtered through people who had heard absolutely everything and chose this. They have been the house band for a particular Los Angeles self-image for over a decade: beaches, reverb, a slight melancholy under the sunshine. Live they are looser than the records and the sets lean on the deeper cuts more than casual listeners expect. December in Highland Park, upstairs in an old Masonic lodge with wood floors and a balcony, is a good place to hear it. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Saturday, first of two nights. Hometown runs at the end of a year draw everybody who has been meaning to go all along.
Coming Soon
68 days away
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American tours by this artist happen rarely enough that adding a second night in the same room is less a scheduling decision than an acknowledgment that people flew in. The music is the same peculiar thing either night — slack guitar, deadpan falsetto, arrangements that sound like a resort band playing something faintly sinister — and it does not resemble anything else currently touring. He dissolved a much louder band at its peak to start doing this. The Tuesday date will be the quieter of the two and probably the better one. Highland Park's upstairs Masonic hall, wood floors, a balcony that fills late. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56. Three separate audiences claim this artist and they mostly do not know the others exist until they are all in the same room.
Coming Soon
67 days away
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A Tokyo apartment at 2 AM has its own sound, somewhere between a lounge record and a bad dream, and once you have heard it done properly nothing else scratches the itch. Sakamoto broke up his previous band in 2010 while they were at their peak, walked away, and started making something slower and stranger — wobbling guitar, deadpan falsetto, arrangements that sound cheerful until you read what the words are actually saying. American tours are rare enough that people fly in for them. The Los Angeles crowd for this is a specific overlap: city pop collectors, Japanese-language listeners, and the psych-rock people who found him through the old band, all of whom assume the other two groups do not exist. Watch what happens when the room recognizes a song from the first solo album. The Highland Park hall is upstairs in an old lodge with wood floors and a balcony. Music at 8:00 PM. He plays a second night here, and both usually go before the week of the show.
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