Here are a few recaps of sets by some of our favorite local acts.
Twinstar, 3 p.m. at Phoenix Masonic
This writer has said it enough to truly achieve "broken record" status: The first band at a fest has the most unenviable task imaginable. The worst showcases flounder under the pressure, and the best ones often set the tone for the whole event. In the case of dream pop-shoegaze younglings Twinstar, they struck on a definitive theme of the entire fest: robust passion. More specifically, their cinematic, spiraling compositions were delivered with vigor and heft, filling the Phoenix Masonic Temple with massive walls of sound that let the few in attendance experience the band fully and completely. It may not have been the best or most occupied show, but Twinstar demonstrated that VIVA was going to be all about a robust passion for music, the magic of fan-audience engagement and the romance of discovery. In short, consider showing up as early as possible whenever Twinstar hit the stage.
Yellowcake, 4 p.m. at Valley Bar Punk Rock Alley
Until yesterday, Yellowcake existed solely as an idea. They were only ever bruising, oversized hardcore songs pouring out of a speaker to smash my ear canals. But seeing them in the middle of the afternoon, in a tiny alley made to feel like a punk rock attraction at Disneyland, Yellowcake became suddenly and violently real. It was less about doing something novel in the hardcore framework, but rather just doing it really well. It's the unassuming, semi-detached stage presence; their vitriol and volume demanded you to enter the fray. But putting the audience on the offensive didn't mean a lack of care — if anything, Yellowcake maintained a bizarre joy and passion among themselves that made your own immersion all the more appealing and compelling. They made that whole alley/stage their own, and they felt alive with devious intentions, energy galore and an experience that felt leaps and bounds more real than the slightly forced nature of their "confines." No recording could ever capture them in full ever again, and Yellowcake’s poisoned influence is exactly what we needed from the Punk Rock Alley stage.
Wheelwright, 4:30 p.m. at Gracie’s Tax Bar
You might best know Jared Kolesar from his band, long-time local mainstays Jared & The Mill. But since early 2021, Kolesar's gone solo with Wheelwright, and his early-evening set at Gracie's proved why this bolo tie fits Kolesar even better. That's not to disparage Jared & The Mill whatsoever — their mainstream-adjacent indie rock definitely helped define Phoenix in the mid-2000s. But Wheelwright is a more charming and potent fit, as his folk/country troubadour aesthetic plays up to Kolesar's natural charisma, earnest vocals and smoldering but approachable tendencies. Whether he was engaging in stage banter about a 12-foot skeleton decoration, or putting a potent spin on Marty Robbins' "Big Iron," Kolesar's true skills and potential as a performer are realized with little more than a smile and an acoustic guitar. It's a musical approach you may have seen before, and perhaps is a tad trendy nowadays. But Kolesar brings to it a new level of commitment and tenderness, churning out love songs and broken-hearted ballads with a depth and clarity I'm not sure we've seen from him in an otherwise rich career thus far. Going solo likely wasn't an easy call, but Koselar proved that some cowfolk are best suited for the lonesome road.Katie Mae & the Lubrication, 6 p.m. at Gracie’s Tax Bar
Sometimes the best shows happen when a band and a venue create a little synergy. In the case of Katie Mae & the Lubrication, a post-sundown set behind the chicken wire at Gracie's was a match made in true honky-tonk heaven. Not even lighting problems for the steel guitar player could prevent the band from doing what they do best: demonstrate the broad power and appeal of proper country-western music. It's about heartfelt ballads and danceable medleys and grooves that bring us all together to sing of life and loss (and also to slam cheap beer). It was the kind of charming, playful concert experience that promotes intimacy above all else, and brings crowd and performers together in a way that we’re all equal participants. Would the band have been just as good in any other setting? Sure, they've got the chops and personality that make their slightly niche music altogether more accessible. But for at least an hour or so, Gracie's became everyone's personal country-fried dive bar, where we all gorged ourselves on a fountain of down-home vibes and well whiskey. You really had to be there, folks.
Veronica Everheart, 6:45 p.m. at Phoenix Masonic Temple
I've seen and written plenty about Veronica Everheart. In a scene with plenty of solid alt-rock bands, Everheart has proven to be someone with the wit and prowess to stand out. But her VIVA set was different. Maybe it was the newer songs, which have more angst and venom to them. (Not to mention the keyboards seem to be a new-ish addition.) That, and Everheart's stage presence — the young singer felt more aggressive, confrontational and vitriolic than ever before. Was it a bad night? A sign of a new musical direction? Perhaps it's just what happens when you see a band enough times and the latest set's a little different? Either way, it goes hard; this "new" Everheart demonstrated a ferocity and hunger (not to mention a slightly more detached cool than ever before) that will only further set her apart. It really felt like a kind of pivot or transformational moment, and a realization that Everheart is deeply serious about the kind of musician she wants to be and the world just needs to see it for everything to truly snap into place. Enough folks were likely believers going into the set, but if you weren't, Everheart made you see it with unwavering rock 'n' roll power.
Glixen, 7 p.m. at Valley Bar Punk Rock Alley
I hate how much I like Glixen. Like, how even after I've reached out for an interview or two, the resulting radio silence only made them all the more hip and compelling. Or how they were 15-ish minutes late to a 40-minute set, and that somehow didn't ruin what I can only describe as "a pulverizing wall of shoegaze bliss." Or that even amid a sea of similar bands musically and aesthetically, Glixen have somehow reached a coolness and charisma that bordered on the untouchable and ethereal. So, then, how do they do it? Sure, it's passion and commitment to their craft, and that with the right work and approach bands can truly flourish from a creative standpoint. But their brief-but-mighty set was proof of something just as important: Some bands just got it. No matter what they do or don't do, they'll always come off as rock gods doling out blasts of feedback-laden magic. Try as you may to like or not like them, Glixen have that perfect combination that proves that they're doing exactly what they need to be doing. The more you try and decipher that formula, the more it'll drive you insane. On Saturday night, I learned to just let it take me over and enjoy the bliss above everything else.Body of Light, 7:30 p.m. at Valley Bar
There's always one set at these fests that I call "The Test." It's where situations and circumstances unfold that, as the name suggests, test your patience, mettle, humanity, etc. In the case of Body of Light, the test was a little deceptive. Because, sure, the Valley Bar's dimly lit confines were the perfect place for the emotional darkwave of brothers Andrew and Alexander Jarson. But with a big enough crowd trying to shimmy and sway to depressive IDM, feet were stomped on and bodies checked in a way that finally exceeded normal festival circumstances. But like all great bands that pass "The Test," the Jarson siblings did so by powering through, delivering their set with a subtle magic and joy that kept you in your feels even when some stranger almost spilled a beer on you for zero discernible reason. Their set was a testament to how great artists really control a crowd, and how the best dance parties really do make you forget about the world and all its bogus qualities. They're not a group for everyone (Blutengel fans, welcome aboard!) but Body of Light are for people who want music to move them in ways that transcend just cool sounds. But seriously, though, folks: The phrase is "excuse me."Dogbreth, 8 p.m. at Phoenix Masonic
My streak of only seeing Phoenix bands should have been ruined with Dogbreth. But Tristan Jemsek did originally start the band in the Valley before relocating to Tucson, so technically said streak remains intact. But Dogbreth are the kind of band where you'd ignore all that ultimately insignificant geographical stuff because they're just so dang good. Maybe it's the rotating lineup of singers/players, or the slightly undefinable qualities of their brand of indie rock, but Dogbreth just felt truly different. They're just as heartfelt as they are quirky and weird, and that specific configuration made them novel amid an especially diverse lineup. And it translated so perfectly live, as their set felt like the best mix between dance party, basement show and proper club gig. Said balance, then, really struck at what ultimately made Dogbreth so compelling: They fill a niche that actually checks a lot of boxes, and in doing so, they come off as these wacky, talented and multifaceted rockers that we will always need more of these days. They are the kind of band that may seem unassuming enough, but once the show really starts, you see how they have a talent that can't be contained by one mere city or region.
Playboy Manbaby, 10:30 p.m. at Phoenix Masonic Temple
If you ever get the chance, I'd recommend interviewing a band before you go see them perform. Because when I spoke to frontman Robbie Pfeffer before Playboy Manbaby's headlining set (they were among the last to play, so that counts), he made a few great points about VIVA. More specifically, how he saw this as a kind of "homecoming" for the band, and that because they didn't play as many local shows these days, every Phoenix show felt all the more special.The band certainly proved that at the Masonic Temple on Saturday night, delivering new jams and old favorites for a set that felt like a celebration of both Playboy Manbaby but also the Phoenix scene at large. There's little denying just how the band have helped to mold and shape the rock scene in the Valley over the last 13-ish years, working to infuse new levels of weirdness, political awareness and all-around joy and intensity. Perhaps they're no longer of here (as much, at least), and the city too has found newer bands to uplift andcelebrate.
But Playboy Manbaby proved that their significance is truly essential at this point, and that they only really need one good gig to remind everyone that they're among the funniest, most sincere and generally rollicking bands to ever roll out of Phoenix. They made the walls shake, they whipped up a (gender-balanced) mosh pit, sang about both petting dogs and social decay and generally captured something unwaveringly bright and true about Valley music.
There's every sign that, at some point in the near future, Playboy Manbaby could leave the desert for bigger opportunities, and who could blame them? But career-encapsulating sets like VIVA made it clear they'll always be our resident weirdos, and that we’re lucky to have had them at any point whatsoever. Thank you, Playboy Manbaby — we'll be seeing you real soon.
