Flight Attendant opened the night with controlled chaos, the kind of set that feels like someone plugged a string quartet into a jet engine. I’ve heard so many great things that I was very excited to finally see them live! Their signature mix of alt-rock moodiness, violin-driven drama, and pop hooks set the room buzzing from the first song. What was outstanding to me wasn’t just the musicianship that was sharp, theatrical, and surprisingly heavy when they wanted it to be, but also the sense of play happening onstage. They treated the crowd to a theatrical experience that left all of us wanting more. 

When Highly Suspect took the stage, the whole atmosphere snapped into something electric and unmistakably personal. Celebrating the 10th anniversary of Mister Asylum, the band committed to the kind of front-to-back performance that fans dream about but rarely get: the album played in full, raw and unfiltered, as if it had just been written yesterday.

Hearing Mister Asylum live as a complete arc served as a reminder of why the album hit so hard a decade ago—and why it still does. Johnny sang with an edge that made it clear he wasn’t coasting on nostalgia; the songs were lived-in, scarred, and still burning hot. “Lydia” hit like a gut punch, the crowd taking over entire choruses. “Bath Salts” and “Lost” had the room thrashing in unison, while the quieter moments, “Mom,” especially, felt like a collective exhale.

The band’s chemistry was locked in. Even after ten years, the songs sounded dangerous in the best possible way, as if they might break apart at any moment but never did.

By the last song, the night had transformed into something more than a milestone celebration—it felt like a reaffirmation of Highly Suspect’s roots and the community that grew around their earliest, most unvarnished work.

If Flight Attendant set the stage on fire, Highly Suspect burned the whole thing down.