Chandol

When was the last time you felt your synapses fire like a DIY pyrotechnics show? Enter Chandol, the sonic alchemists set to detonate your Tuesday night ennui. Emerging from the depths of an abandoned subway tunnel (or maybe just their Bushwick loft), this band is the lovechild of dream-pop haze and post-punk grit. Picture this: you're swaying amidst a sea of vintage denim and artfully tousled hair, the bassline throbbing like a secret heartbeat only the in-crowd can hear. You won't find this kind of electricity on your Spotify Discover Weekly.

Chandol doesn't just play music—they craft landscapes of sound that transport you straight into a Lynchian fever dream, where every riff and reverb is a breadcrumb in an auditory breadcrumb trail. And with tickets priced at a mere twenty bucks in advance (because who wants to be that person at the door, shelling out $25 and missing the opening act's first hypnotic notes?), this is the kind of night that festivals wish they could bottle. Doors at 6pm, and trust us, you’ll want to be first in line. Your future self, clad in thrifted glory and drenched in sonic euphoria, will thank you.