Category: Reviews

By Chandler Paulk

From the balcony, in the middle of a stream of adoring fans, emerged a declaration: “I’m a writer, I don’t do crushes.” The line opens “Janis Joplining,” sung by BRIT-nominated Irish popstar CMAT, and opened CMAT’s first-ever show at DC’s 9:30 Club. Fulfilling a lifelong dream of playing there, CMAT noted her excitement about night in general and the iconic branded cupcakes. However, this excitement over the delights of foodstuffs only lasted until the “Very Sexy CMAT Band” started up the second song, a diss-track-turned-self-admonishment and second single from the new album Euro-Country (2025). “The Jaime Oliver Petrol Station” set the tone as red lights flashed across the stage setting, a large glowing Euro embossed with the popstar’s face and the title of the album. The song devolved into a fit of screaming, cementing CMAT’s bonafide rock-stardom as she ran around the stage, raising the energy in the room to a boiling point. After this, she played two hits from her first album, “I Don’t Really Care for You” and “2 Wrecked 2 Care”, interspersed with a song from the new record, “When a Good Man Cries,” in which the artist catapulted herself onto the floor. 

Soon, CMAT called out to the crowd acknowledging two requests. She provided the background for her first song, “Phone Me.” She admitted she had forgotten the words and that most of the band had not played before, but sang and performed a snippet of it perfectly as the band played off of the keyboardist’s direction. Following this, she played the second request, “Coronation St.” 

The band then exited the stage and the lights dimmed, leaving CMAT at center stage with just her guitar. This portion was bookended by the return of the band for the second half of “Rent,” a devastating ballad from her second album Crazymad, For Me (2023), which bloomed from the solitary beginning to full band backing. To close out the set, the first single from Euro-Country, “Running/Planning,” left the crowd on an an anticipatory note as the singer closed the song with the refrain “I keep on running, planning, yeah.” 

Though this wasn’t the true end, CMAT returned to the stage for an encore to chants of her name. The encore began with the title track from Euro-Country, featuring a beautiful verse in Gaeilge and rooting the entire show even further within the ethos of identity. This Irish thread was masterfully woven together with her country influences as she asked the audience to do the “Dunboyne County Meath two-step” shuffle from side to side while she played the song “I Wanna Be a Cowboy, Baby!” After this, CMAT came down from the stage and into the pit to  close the show, for real this time, with “Stay For Something.” 

From the very beginning of the night with opener Blond in Car to the very end of the show, drama and energy reigned over the Euro-Country tour. A night with CMAT and The Very Sexy CMAT Band is certainly one you won’t want to miss. She doesn’t do crushes, but she crushed her first show at the iconic 9:30 Club!

By Shira Oz

On Thursday, February 27, 2026, comedian Jim Gaffigan stopped in Washington, D.C., for three nights as part of his Everything is Wonderful tour. 

Jim Gaffigan, a Georgetown graduate, gained widespread popularity through specials like Mr. Universe and Cinco. 

I was unfamiliar with Gaffigan’s comedy, so when I noticed that the Anthem was filled with people mostly in their early thirties to mid-fifties, I immediately assumed I was not the target audience. After watching the show, I now know I wasn’t the target audience, but I still found him really funny.

Ted Alexandro opened the show; the majority of his jokes were about marriage or parenting, so not really topics I could relate to. Nevertheless, I felt that if I were slightly older, I would have found many of the jokes funny. He joked that active-duty soldiers and young parents are the first groups to board planes, which should be pretty telling about how difficult parenting is. I thought that was funny. 

Gaffigan came on after him. He also made jokes about parenting and marriage, but to older kids. One thing I noticed is how clean his humor is, yet he still manages to be really funny. Gaffigan’s comedy is known for its observational style—focusing on everyday things like food, family life, and small annoyances that most people can relate to. Even when the jokes weren’t directly aimed at someone my age, the way he built them made it easy to laugh along with the rest of the audience. Most comedians, I feel, have to resort to controversial or sexual humor to get the crowd laughing. Gaffigan didn’t at all, and I found myself laughing a lot, as did the rest of the crowd. 

I also appreciated how Gaffigan weaved in jokes from Alexandro’s stand-up into his jokes. It wasn’t very noticeable, but if you were paying close attention, you would have noticed it. 

I kept on thinking about how much my parents and older cousins would have enjoyed this show, and maybe if I were ten years older, I would have enjoyed it much more. Even though the humor was not directed at me, I still enjoyed it, and I am really glad I went. If anything, the show made me curious to revisit his comedy in a few years.

By Madeline Jones

Perfume Genius (aka Michael Hadreas) returned to Lincoln Theatre on March 31, 2026, for a performance that felt less like a traditional concert and more like an intimate, dimly lit, secret performance. Stripped down to Hadreas’ angelic voice and the quiet – yet essential – presence of his husband and collaborator Alan Wyffels, the evening leaned into a sense of graceful fragility.

The stage set-up was minimal: two seats, two pianos, and low lighting that cast long shadows. Throughout the set, Hadreas alternated between sitting at his piano and standing behind a mic stand at center stage. From the moment he got on stage, Hadreas set a tone that blurred vulnerability with humor, remarking that the night would be filled with banter due to the beta blockers he had just taken. Later, he went on to joke about the visible stain on his shirt from the bread pudding and ice cream he’d eaten earlier.

The duo opened with “AWOL Marine,” which Hadreas noted they were performing live for the first time in a while. They followed with “Perry,” a track off of their debut album, Learning, and “No Front Teeth,” during which Hadreas sang both parts of the duet – and exquisitely. 

Before launching into “Valley,” Hadreas remarked that the show should have been labeled “a night with Perfume Genius” as he enters the second half of his life. From there, he introduced “Full On,” one of his favorite songs off of Glory. He followed that up with a series of throwbacks, including “Die 4 You,” “Hood,” and a slowed-down, nearly unrecognizable version of “On the Floor,” which served as a stark contrast from its usual pulsing beat. On “Whole Life” and “Jason” (a personal favorite), Wyffels’ beautiful piano playing was on full display alongside Hadreas’ piercing vocals.

One of the most unexpected joys of the night was getting to see the playful and loving energy between Hadreas and Wyffels. After “Without You,” Wyffels remarked that he kept finding himself finishing Hadreas’ sentences and dancing along as he sang. During “Nothing at All,” the two fought over who got to play the last note, with Wyffels eventually ceding to Hadreas. For “Describe” and “Alan,” Wyffels gave Hadreas the stage, but stood in the wings watching warmly. To close out the set, the two sat side by side to perform “Learning,” with Wyffels mouthing each word in sync with Hadreas.

Everything, from seeing the opener, Dan English, watch Perfume Genius’ set, to the audience to observing as old friends ran into each other and caught up between sets, conveyed the warmth and simple joy of the night. It was raw, occasionally awkward, and deeply affecting. Perfume Genius does not perform at you, but rather lets you quietly into his world.

By Madeline Jones

On February 24, 2026 at the 9:30 Club, Peter McPoland returned not as a newcomer with something to prove, but as a self-proclaimed “not cool” folk singer fully in command of a room that quite literally vibrated with excitement. The last time he played the venue was on his 2023 Piggy tour, and early in the set he shouted out the returning fans who had been with him since that debut album. “This uncool folk singer is on his way back to town,” he joked, as cheers drowned him out.

Not long after he took to the stage, McPoland beamed about his long-standing love for D.C. As a child, he said he used to make regular trips down to the city to visit his Aunt Paula, and on this night she stood proudly on the balcony, waving as he pointed her out to the crowd. At one point she flashed him a heart sign, and he waved back, less touring frontman and more grateful nephew. Shortly thereafter, he praised the opener, Americana/folk duo DUG, commenting, “You guys are gonna love DUG, I already know you love DUG.” Here, the crowd got a glimpse of the personal, playful, and generally unguarded nature that McPoland embedded into the rest of his show.

He opened with “Dead Air,” alone on acoustic guitar, his three bandmates—Josh Suarez (keys and guitar), Landon Laney (guitar), and Joe Curtin (drums)—huddled behind him on back-up vocals. Dressed uniformly in all black, they looked like a minimalist indie group, with the intimacy and comfort that comes with practice. This is perhaps unsurprising given that Laney and Curtin have been with McPoland since the early days, when they performed as Peter McPoland and the Haps. “Good Day” followed, giving each member a vocal solo that showcased just how strong the ensemble’s voices really are.

Throughout the set, McPoland switched effortlessly between acoustic intimacy and brash electric energy. “What Do You Do To Me?” from Big Lucky and “A Place Like This” from Friend leaned into glossy indie-rock, while “Slow Down / Mary Anne”—probably my favorite performance of the night—felt tender yet warm enough to fill the room. With “Blue” from Piggy and the nostalgic anthem “Shit Show,” McPoland found the crowd shouting every word back at him.

The balcony floor shook during “Romeo & Juliet,” making it feel as if you were on stage with him, the energy buzzing up through even the cushioned seats of the balcony bar. “Mold,” recorded live at the 9:30 Club on his last tour, was a wildcard, with one remarkably dedicated fan apparently DM-ing him since October to play it. “Weird pick,” he laughed, but nonetheless he obliged.

Between the moments of angst and pure adrenaline, there were moments of pure sweetness, too. Before “I Love The Animals,” he shouted out a young fan named Levy in the crowd. Later on, a fan tossed him clover-shaped glasses in honor of “Big Lucky,” which he wore with theatrical flair I might add. And before covering “Bruised Orange,” he delivered the night’s most memorable quote: “John Prine is kind of the whole reason I got into music…I stopped listening to him when I thought he wasn’t cool, but then I woke the fuck up.” The cover, sung between McPoland and Laney, was folksy, reverent, and raw.

For “Roll Away My Stone,” McPoland took to the keys, with his bandmates providing interspersed backing vocals. By the time “Digital Silence” ended, he was sweaty and out of breath, dancing with a jittery joy reminiscent of 9:30 Club alum indie pop project Dayglow—jumping back and forth like someone who can’t believe that this is his job. 

The set closed with “Speed of the Sound (of You),” punctuated by a curtsy. There was no encore (as McPoland apparently hates the pageantry of encores), just a very content McPoland enthusiastically shouting out every band member, his tour team, and even the humble penny (“For exact change, making wishes, and exact change,” he said).

Uncool? Maybe. But at the 9:30 Club, Peter McPoland proved that sincerity, sweat, and a floor-vibrating set are cooler than ever.

By Maggie Adams

Jackson Laird, a DMV local, played his first two headlining shows last month at the Pie Shop and Songbyrd. I got the chance to interview him and his opener, Leo Lav, at Songbyrd on March 8th, 2026. 

^{_{Jackson Laird, Photo by Maggie Adams}}

Jackson Laird was born and raised outside of Baltimore in the 2010s. Both of these influences are clear in his music. His father showed him Prince, Michael Jackson, and the Bee Gees, and pop culture introduced him to Harry Styles and Sabrina Carpenter. Both of these influences are prevalent in his music. He came out strong with his first single, “Handsy,” in 2024, and he’s been delivering consistent quality ever since. His sound is polished and dancey. His most popular song, “Microdose,” is reminiscent of Malcolm Todd, but my favorite is “Venom.”

He grew up sports-oriented and didn’t really get into music until he came to American University, where he played house shows. His local success motivated him to leave to pursue music. He’s found success through promoting his music on TikTok, and, similar to this new age of musicians today, he broke out alone: no label and few friends in the scene. This has motivated him to support emerging artists like his opener, Leo Lav.hop, at Songbyrd.

_{^{Leo Lav, Photo by Maggie Adams}}

Leo Lav is from upstate New York, but his songs contain some great elements of modern country. He was raised by a professional jazz guitarist and has always been surrounded by music. His most popular song was his first-ever release, “I don’t wanna think about you.” It’s raw and honest, and Leo’s voice is low and powerful. It’s surprising. My favorite song by far is his new release, “Temporary.” Throughout his discography, he’s playing with different sounds, but “Temporary” sounds solid and authentic. Leo’s personality is magnetic and genuine. He radiates honesty and kindness, and I think it bleeds into his songwriting. 

Both artists have loose ties, in one way or another, to Georgetown. Jackson Laird attended American University, and Leo Lav attended Fordham University. 

Both artists put on a great show. They took advantage of the intimacy of the venue and interacted with the crowd. Take a listen to both interviews linked below.

JACKSON LAIRD

LEO LAV 

Listen to “Love Arcade” and “Temporary,” out now, and keep an eye out for when the DMV local returns! 

By Annika Nelson

Walking into the Lincoln Theater for A Charlie Brown Christmas: Live on Stage projected you into a Christmas wonderland.  The stage was lit with snowflakes as families filtered into their seats.  The venue itself set the perfect tone for an evening steeped in nostalgia, and I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the Lincoln Theater popcorn–simply the perfect blend of salty and satisfying.  The historic theater created a beautiful atmosphere to settle in and enjoy a show drawing from a Christmas classic.  

From the moment the lights dimmed, the production attempted to whisk the audience straight into the world of Charles M. Schulz.  While the script stayed remarkably close to the original television special, a few details fell short.  The production’s attempt to modernize or energize certain sequences sometimes felt at odds with the quiet simplicity that makes A Charlie Brown Christmas so endearing.  Not everything translated well from animation to stage.  Some actors embodied the beloved Peanuts characters with impressive accuracy; Charlie Brown in particular captured the spirit of earnestness and uncertainty quite well.  Others, like Snoopy, brought the magic to a crashing halt as the famously wordless character was portrayed by a fully embodied actor, uttering barks that sounded far too close to words.  Maybe this is just my perception as someone who grew up on the comic strip and TV special, but these key moments where they chose to stray from defining characteristics of the Charlie Brown universe made it hard for me to be fully on board.  

The show was clearly crafted with children in mind, and were I five years old in my plaid Christmas dress with puffed sleeves (I know you know the one) perhaps I would have enjoyed it more.  The audience was filled with excited kids and their Snoopy stuffed animals, and the cast leaned into that energy.  There were playful participation opportunities throughout the show, like during the snowball fight when actors encouraged the children to take part.  Laughter soared throughout the theater as soft snowballs flew, making the moment feel alive, spontaneous, and wonderfully chaotic.  

The live jazz band truly elevated the experience.  The character Pigpen both acted in the show and played his famous upright bass.  Hearing Vince Guaraldi’s iconic score performed live added a vibrant texture to the show, enriching the storytelling.  The musicians brought a richness to each scene, grounding the more chaotic moments with a sense of authenticity and holiday charm.  Their presence reminisced on the original’s special emotional heartbeat as the familiar jazz melodies often felt like gentle anchors pulling the show back towards its roots.  

The show certainly attempted to breathe new life into a beloved classic–one I’m not sure it was ready for.  With giggling children, families hugging each other a bit tighter, and the Peanuts gang gathering around their infamous tree, the theater emanated a bit of collective nostalgia.  So while certain creative choices missed the mark, the spirit of the season hung warmly in the air, gently prompting theater goers to remember the true meaning of Christmas and disregard commercialism for a season of love, hope, joy, and care.  

By Isabella Sicilian

Walking into The Anthem on October 7th for Alex G’s show, I immediately realized I might be the oldest person under 25 in the room. Surrounded by a sea of teenagers in funky hats and oversized jeans, and forty-year-old hippies in beanies excited to whip out their leather jackets as the weather dipped below 70 degrees for one of the first times this fall, I felt decidedly uncool—but that’s just part of the Alex G experience, apparently. 

The venue buzzed with anticipation as British musician Nilüfer Yanya opened the night, warming up the crowd before the main event. When Alex G finally took the stage with his live band—a group of guest musicians rather than a regular touring lineup—the energy shifted. Football field-style lights flashed at the audience, new colors flaring for different beats, and it became clear this wouldn’t be your typical intimate indie show. The live band deserves serious credit for nailing the heavier, more produced sound that Headlights demands throughout the night. I stayed toward the back (being short has taught me that observing from a distance often offers me the best view), and from there I could see the crowd jumping and swaying during the heavier songs. The production felt slightly over the top at times, and the arena-style light show seemed almost too much for the relatively calmer indie rock music. It was an interesting contrast to Alex G’s DIY roots, though the dedicated fan base didn’t seem to mind.

If there’s one thing that defines Alex G’s stage presence, it’s his endearing awkwardness. Between nearly every song, he stumbled through a “thank you,” occasionally adding “we’re excited to be here” before diving back into the music. He was reserved, almost uncomfortable, yet somehow that awkwardness felt authentic rather than off-putting. And yes, he really does sound like that live—his voice carries that youthful, almost boyish quality that’s become his signature. The entire setlist drew exclusively from Headlights, which disappointed me a bit. I was hoping to hear older favorites like “Forever” or “Animals” from Trick, but it made sense for a major label debut tour. What I personally love about Alex G is his guitar work, and while it was present, I wished it had more room to shine through the heavier production.

The real surprise came in the last third of the concert when Alex G announced they had “a special song” before launching into a rock-heavy cover of “Monster Mash,” complete with distorted guitars and plenty of noise, and the crowd immediately erupted in cheers. It was the perfect way to kick off spooky season in the first week of October. Despite feeling initially intimidated by the impossibly cool crowd, I found myself comfortable in the awkward indie vibe that filled The Anthem that night. Alex G’s dedicated fanbase, the teenagers in funky hats and big jeans, knew every word, swaying and singing along with genuine passion. There’s something special about an artist who can keep such an unpolished, authentic presence even after moving to a major label. Alex G stays true to himself, awkwardness and all.

By Christina Pan

Your girl knows how to put on a show. I couldn’t take my eyes off Renée Rapp the entire time. Her “Bite Me” tour is named after her “biting” style of lyrics—even when she’s singing about a softer subject, there’s still a sharp quality to her music, present in her lyrics, delivery, and overall aura. Playing to a full crowd spread across seated and lawn sections at Merriweather Post Pavilion, Rapp brought the energy and the intensity with excellent production quality. 

Opening Act: Syd

Syd, R&B singer and former The Internet frontwoman, opened the show with some of her fan-favorites and her smooth, enchanting R&B voice. Syd also sang several new songs devoted to her wife, Ariana Simone, whom she later introduced on stage. Syd’s stage presence was undeniable: there was only bass and piano backing, and Syd herself was dressed simply in a crew hoodie. There was no elaborate dance crew or flashy lights present for Syd, but she kept the audience captivated by how the music just flowed with her body.

Main Performance

After a quick intermission, Rapp came onto the stage with red lighting flowing across it. The production of the concert, from the lighting to the dance choreography, was incredible. She started the show floating on top of a high-raised platform, immediately showing off her vocal prowess and dance moves. She belted intense song after intense song, slyly teasing the audience with all sorts of moves and quips. The bass beat was strong enough that you could feel it through the entire massive amphitheater.

Eventually, Rapp transitioned to softer songs, where she sat on top of a piano, reminiscing about her early childhood days when she first discovered songwriting. Back then, it would just be her and the piano, singing melodies into the night. This effect was mesmerizing: there was a quiet intensity even throughout the more mellow songs, fitting for “Bite Me”. The energy of the crowd was undeniably fervent—anything Rapp asked the crowd to do, whether hoot or holler or wave their arms or light up the crowd, they did.

Rapp also showed candor and vulnerability when discussing her songs, especially one inspired by her “first real heartbreak.” She did not shy away from honestly describing how she felt about that person, and how she felt such love and, at the end of it, a deep feeling of irreconciliation, a betrayal of trust. Her music, as a whole, is pop-driven but comes from a more personal than performative side. 

Atmosphere and Logistics

Concertgoers were all dressed up fashionably, from oversized flannels to miniskirts to quippy shirts with “Bite Me” or the like fashioned onto them (a small word of warning if you’re parking at Merriweather Post: it takes forever to park, and forever to get down from the top floors). 

By Alex Zuehlke

If there’s a right way to hold onto summer a little longer, it’s seeing Royel Otis live. The Australian duo—Royel Maddell and Otis Pavlovic—brought their fun, sun-soaked energy to The Anthem on September 14th, somehow making a Sunday night in D.C. feel like a rooftop party in Sydney. 

The opener, bby, came out first and immediately set the mood. bby is an indie band from East London, and their sound matched the vibe of the night perfectly—catchy guitar parts, upbeat tempos, and a casual sort of charm that loosened the crowd up right away. 

When Royel Otis finally took the stage, the lights dimmed, and the massive screen behind them began to flash lyrics, short clips, and trippy visuals. The production wasn’t overdone, but rather just enough to add to the atmosphere. The screen behind the band added a kind of hazy, nostalgic mood to everything as it cycled through old video clips and text walls. It matched their sound perfectly, reminding me of flipping through old summer photos you forgot existed.

The duo opened with “Adored,” and from there, the set never really slowed down. Their sound feels even punchier live than it does on the record, as if every song wants to pull you into motion.

They played a selection from Hickey, the album they released in August, and mixed in some older fan favorites too, like “Oysters in My Pocket” and “Sofa King.” I was just as impressed with the audience as I was with the band; the energy was electric as the crowd sung every word to their hits and danced carefree. These days, concerts are often filled with a sea of cellphones, recording every second of the show for Instagram stories. However, the Royel Otis show was relatively technology-free, underscoring the summery, “live in the moment” vibe that their music gives off.   

Then came the last song before the encore, which ended up being my favorite part of the show. Instead of going back to the main stage, Royel Otis reappeared on a small platform near the back of the venue. The crowd turned around, and suddenly the Anthem felt like a tiny, intimate venue. They played their cover of The Cranberries’ “Linger,” and it was gorgeously soft and far more stripped back than the rest of their set. 

I didn’t go into this concert expecting much, but Royel Otis completely won me over. Their music is fun, warm, and weirdly comforting, and live, it just clicks. By the time I walked out, sweaty and smiling, I realized I’d found a new favorite band, something that I’ve kept returning to as summer slips away.

By Christina Pan

Swedish rapper Yung Lean came to the Anthem on October 19th to cap off his Forever Yung tour, and it was a fine demonstration of his current artistic vision. He kicked the night off with tracks from Jonatan, his latest album, marking a creative leap from his past music. The album deals with a lot more melodic ground and the tracks sound much more vulnerable than his previous music, which had more of a nonchalant, constant motion sort of sensation. His new music resonates differently with a second or third listen. The crowd was rather subdued for the first songs, swaying politely, getting the hang of the night.

Things picked up once he started playing the classics. When “Ginseng Strip” and “Kyoto” came on, the energy completely changed. A mosh pit formed and Lean was feeding off of it, bringing intensity and stamina to his performance. He was stomping around, dancing, rapping with a presence that matched what the crowd wanted. The crowd seemed more mature than your typical mosh pit too – people were into it but not chaotic, there was this sense of respect for the space and for each other while still keeping the energy up.

The staging elevated things. Midway through the set he had this spiked axe that he’d draw over his shoulder. He used a white curtain at the front of the stage and would stand in front of it wearing a spiked helmet, so you’d just see his silhouette against the light. It created this dramatic effect that broke up the set and kept things visually interesting. His all-white outfit the whole night—cargo pants, some kind of military-style top—mixed with the helmet gave off this fusion of militaristic and Prince-like energy that surprisingly worked.

He even included a few false endings leading up to the real finale, with the lights going up and then Lean returning to run through some of his older classics. “Ginseng” is the oldest song of his that we know about and he has been playing it since the age 16. He has a very unassuming baby face, but is able to spit and dance around the stage with genuine authority. The show seemed to be a nice balance between where Jonatan is going and the roots that were built that got everybody out here to begin with.