Cece Lawless
Backlit in amber, the emotive Post Rock band emerged without fanfare, just as silhouettes. In an age of overstimulation, Pijn are gentle and muted. Thought-provoking and emotionally raw; the set unfolded politely and slowly. The drums cut through the ambience of the music and each strike felt purposeful and weighted. They play a nearly fully instrumental set, allowing the music to tell the story.
This is a band to contemplate and take in, rather than simply consume. The performance stretches and climbs, bathing the audience in a sonic blanket of strings and an atmosphere so dense, it feels you are breathing it in. Each song weaves into the next, with the band taking small breaks after playing what feels like continuously. In between each break, the packed venue applaud them, and the reception is nearly deafening. It is well deserved.
They built this setlist to end at a crescendo that engulfs Electric Ballroom, sound rising like floodwater, filling every pocket of space with sound. There is, too, the sheer tenacity of it all as these are long, demanding compositions, yet the band never loosens its grip.
If the previous set was blanket of atmosphere, this set was the alarm to wake you. In the wake of Pijn’s tectonic weight, Vs Self delivers beautiful Midwest Emo threaded with serrated strands of screamo. They wear their vulnerability openly on stage.
The vocals didn’t draw the soundscape away from the dreamy, reverb laced riffs but they accompanied them, almost crying through. Every line felt wrung out, with emotion taking the centre stage. There’s a particular alchemy to this kind of music: a melody sweet enough to soothe and a lyrical catharsis sharp enough to wound.
Vs Self would feel tailor made for a summer festival slot, the kind that lands in late afternoon sun, where arms are slung around shoulders, and entire fields scream lyrics back at the stage, joined together in shared trauma. That is what this music is built for, purging emotion and feeling as if your experiences had been sung about in front of you.
Towards the second half of the set, at the front, it was anything but gentle. Mosh pits splintered open in a reminder that tenderness and turbulence are never far apart in this genre. It was messy, heartfelt, loud in all the right ways, the music that invites you to hold your friends close and shout your lungs raw at the same time.
La Dispute took to the stage before a crowd already simmering, ready to hear songs from the old and new. The room was packed tight, bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, warmed and ready to go on an emotional journey. If anyone arrived untouched, they didn’t stay that way for long. This was a venue primed to have its feelings rearranged.
La Dispute occupy that particular Midwest Emo/Post Hardcore intersection where spoken word collides with beautiful guitars. Unlike Pijn’s enveloping atmospherics, here the vocals are the main focus. Rhythmically shooting every syllable out to a raucous audience, that are ready to leave their feelings in the venue.
They nudged the BPM upward and tore into “The Most Beautiful Bitter Fruit”, giving the audience permission to let loose. The shift was physical, you could feel the floor respond. The guitars circled and surged, but it was the narrative intensity of the delivery that held the room in its grip.
Each transition was met with rapturous applause, the kind reserved for songs that have lived alongside their listeners for years. The setlist felt curated with care, deep cuts and emotional heavyweights placed precisely where they would do the most damage. The crowd answered in kind as mosh pits flared open and audience members balanced on friends shoulders, their voices strained skyward.
Midway through, the band paused to make their political stance unmistakably clear in a speech advocating togetherness, a free Palestine, trans rights, and a world free from right-wing propaganda. It could have fractured the mood but instead, it unified it. The response was unanimous, a roar of agreement that felt less like applause and more like collective affirmation.
The set finishes with a poem that is played repeatedly over the speakers and the audience stand, clapping at first then quietly taking it all in, reflecting on an incredible performance.