Webster Hall

Clear your Thursday night schedule and prepare to drench yourself in vibes as Medium Build and Bella White team up for a sonic feast that'll have even your most aloof friend nodding in approval. Medium Build, the Alaskan outfit known for its raw, heart-on-sleeve lyricism wrapped in indie rock warmth, collides with Bella White's Appalachian-tinged, soul-stirring alt-country sound. It's the kind of lineup that feels like a secret handshake for those in the know, a chance to witness the cathartic embrace of sounds that somehow blend the vastness of tundra and mountain with the intimacy of your favorite dive bar. Expect a night of unguarded emotions and unexpected friendships, because this is one of those gigs where you'll say, "I was there," and everyone else will wish they had been.

If you're not already vibing to NOTD, it's time to fix that oversight and join the ranks of the initiated. The Swedish duo is touching down, and they've got a knack for transforming any venue into a euphoric escapade. Their tracks are an intoxicating blend of earworm hooks and infectious beats, making this event a must for anyone who claims to have their finger on the pulse of what's hot. Think less "just another night out" and more "sonic pilgrimage for the cool kids." With a sound that flirts dangerously between polished pop perfection and underground credibility, NOTD is set to turn the night into a kaleidoscope of synth-laden dreams. If FOMO was a currency, you'd be bankrupt for missing this one. So, grab your best pair of dancing sneakers and prepare for an evening where even the most aloof hipster will find themselves lost in the rhythm. Trust us, this is the one you'll be bragging about for years.

Brace yourself, because Remi Wolf is about to paint the town in gloriously chaotic hues with "An Evening of Mud." This isn't just a gig; it's an electrifying sensory overload where Wolf's psychedelic pop prowess collides with an intimate venue vibe that feels like your best friend's basement, if your best friend was secretly a musical genius. Expect to be drenched in vibrant melodies and raw energy, as Remi's unfiltered charisma seeps into every corner of the room. The buzz is real—like catching lightning in a bottle, only to release it in a sonic storm. This night promises to be the kind of cathartic chaos that indie dreams are made of, and trust me, you'll want to say you were there. So, grab that vintage band tee and get ready to dive headfirst into the mud.

Clear your calendar, because Show Me the Body is about to obliterate the mundane with a sonic assault that'll rattle your bones and invigorate your soul. This isn't just a show; it's a seismic event where the visceral meets the vanguard. The hardcore trio, notorious for their raw energy and genre-defying sound, are headlining a night that'll echo across the city faster than a TikTok trend. They've dragged Whispers along for the ride, a duo that wraps your senses in shadowy synths and haunting vocals that'll linger like the best kind of ghost. This is the kind of night that’ll have you bragging about being there before the inevitable, "you had to be there" moment. So don your coolest vintage tee, lace up those worn-out Docs, and prepare to lose yourself in a crowd that feels more like family than fans. Miss this, and you'll be left scrolling through Instagram stories, wondering why you didn’t make the memories yourself.

Igorrr is storming the stage, and if your ears haven't been blessed by their baroque-metal-breakcore fusion, it's time to recalibrate your life choices. This isn’t just a gig; it’s an avant-garde adventure into the beautifully bizarre. Imagine Bach and Aphex Twin had a lovechild that raves in the catacombs—yeah, that’s Igorrr. Expect to get sonically sucker-punched and leave questioning reality. Dust off your most eclectic outfit, because blending in is not an option here. This is the night your future self will thank you for attending, and your Instagram feed will never look cooler.

Get ready to clutch your stained Converse and skip the small talk at the bar because the Pixies are about to turn your mundane midweek plans into a raucous rite of passage. This isn't just a gig—it's a resurrection, a chance to mainline nostalgia while Amanda Petrusich, the high priestess of music lit, unspools her ethereal prose as the ultimate opener. Picture yourself in a transcendental state where "Where Is My Mind?" becomes more than an anthem; it’s a shared existential crisis we’re all vibing to. Ticket in hand, you're not just attending a concert—you're diving into a time warp where the sets are as raw as your post-breakup emotions and the crowd is a whiplash of vintage tees and vinyl snobs. Miss it, and you’ll be stuck scrolling through blurry Instagram stories wishing you could turn back time.

When the clock strikes midnight in Los Angeles, the only place you need to be is at Electric Feels, where the indie rock riffs crash headfirst into electronic waves, creating the kind of sonic tidal wave you'd willingly drown in. It's happening at The Echo, that hallowed haunt where legends are born and inhibitions are left at the door, nestled right at the heart of Glendale Blvd. Picture this: a night where your wildest dreams of dance floor transcendence meet reality, as pulsating beats and anthemic sing-alongs fuel the electric chaos. Whether you’re craving the nostalgic warmth of a synth line straight out of a John Hughes film or the visceral thrashing of a guitar solo that feels like a jolt of pure adrenaline, this is the party that promises it all. So lace up those well-worn dancing shoes and prepare to groove until the sun creeps over the horizon, because missing out on Electric Feels is a crime against cool you'll never live down.

When the synth wizardry of French 79 descends upon our city, it's not just a gig—it's a cosmic event. Picture this: the air is electric, pulsating with beats that feel like a neon-lit night drive through the streets of Marseille. French 79's soundscapes are where nostalgia meets futurism, blending the euphoria of '80s synthpop with the edge of modern electronica. In a world where every indie act claims to be the next big thing, French 79 is the real deal, crafting sonic journeys that transport you to another dimension, leaving even the most jaded souls with wide-eyed wonder. If you’re not there, you’re missing out. Period.

If your soul aches for a sonic pilgrimage back to the halcyon days of dreamy synth lines and post-punk whispers, then cancel your plans for Thursday night and head straight to the heart of the underground: Book of Love is taking the stage. These pioneers of the late-night dancefloor are poised to transform a mere gig into a communal rite of synthpop salvation. Imagine the cascading echoes of tender keys and harmonies that grasp at your heart's inner nostalgia, all while you’re surrounded by a sea of art kids who look like they just stepped out of a Gus Van Sant film. Whether you’re a seasoned disciple or a fresh convert to their soundscapes, the evening promises an alchemy of euphoria and introspection that’ll make even the most jaded scenester grateful for the best kind of déjà vu. Trust, this isn’t just another show—it’s a resurgence. Don’t be the one who hears about it the next day on the group chat and regrets not being there to witness this legendary rebirth firsthand.