Kelsey Blackstone is a Boston-based indie pop-soul artist who combines retro rock and blues influences with a fresh, contemporary pop flair. Her band prioritizes audience participation in their upbeat live shows, making use of everything from balloons to bubble wands. She’s also involved with the local performance nonprofit 

. WRBB’s Fenner Dreyfuss-Wells caught up with Kelsey to discuss her latest release, her planning process, and what’s coming up for the rest of the year!

Fenner Dreyfuss-Wells: You recently released

Kelsey Blackstone: Yeah, I’m really proud. Whenever I see the video, I just get so excited about it. I think when you have something that you’ve had in your head for so long, and it takes an entire team of really talented people to make that dream a reality, and it comes out even better than you were originally imagining, it’s just the most magical synergy. The single came out on my birthday this year, and I did that because my birthday very conveniently fell on a Friday, which is a great day to release new music, and I wanted to guilt people a little bit. But no, I’m just joking. Everything just kind of seemed like it would be ready by then, so it felt like the right move.

I wrote the song with a good friend of mine, Diana Flynn, at the start of the pandemic. We met through Instagram, which sounds kind of strange, but we just realized that we had a lot of similar styles, and we liked a lot of the same artists. So we just decided to try and set up some Zoom sessions and write with each other. And I’m very happy that we did, because that’s how “My Superstitions” came to be.

For production, I ended up working with Boston-based producer and composer Gōst Pepper, and he did an amazing job. He heard all my ideas and was able to incorporate them and kind of throw his own spin on things, too. We had a very equitable working relationship, which was really cool. And since this was happening when COVID was still really bad, some other friends recorded virtually and then sent the recordings in. I’m just really happy with how the song came out. It took a lot to get it out, but it’s out!

Cover art for “My Superstitions,” made by Remington Sage Strecker and Stephanie Masotti.

I would love to talk a bit more about the music video for the song. Did anything surprise you during the shoot?

Yes and no. I don’t know what initially gave me the idea to do a one-shot video. Maybe I’m crazy. But I was working with a good friend who I’ve worked on a bunch of other projects with. His full name is Remington Sage Strecker, but we call him Sage. He’s an amazing videographer, and it was pretty obvious that we should work together on this video. So I came to him with the idea, and he was on board right away. He asked me if I’d ever seen the movie Birdman. The entire movie is one shot, or at least made to look like it’s one shot. And there’s a lot of personnel in the background of each scene, kind of an organized chaos, everyone’s kind of coming in, doing one thing and then turning right around and leaving the screen. And we kind of wanted to pull from that and use it to inspire how we planned the video.

What was the hardest part of putting that video together?

I feel like on the shoot day itself, everything ran surprisingly smoothly. And I think the reason for that was because Sage and I spent months planning every single aspect of the video. We even made a chart that a coach would use to plan a football play. And it looks insane. Because I had the three backup dancers, and my band, and the production assistants, and we had to make sure everyone was in the right space, at the right time, with the right prop, doing the right dance move. With that being said though, everybody who was involved with the video did a great job and their hard work is so meaningful to me. But yeah, the hardest part was definitely the planning and the coordination of it all.

The play-by-play chart for the “My Superstitions” music video.

Can you tell me a little about the nonprofit you’re involved with,

Yeah, absolutely. In the summer of 2020, me and my friends were in our little COVID bubble in Boston, and we were just hanging out all the time, trying to figure out what to do with ourselves. And, of course, just really, really missing live music and the Boston scene and all of that. There was some other virtual stuff going on at the time, but it didn’t really seem to be scratching the itch that we all felt as musicians and performers. And we kind of started to build this idea, like, what if we got all of us involved and did a music livestream service thing, and what if at the same time, we would also be raising funds for a cause of our choice? So, that was kind of how the initial idea started. We had our first live stream show on Halloween of 2020. We raised a few hundred dollars for the Massachusetts bail fund, and the show was just really fun and really successful. And at the end of it, we all got to walk away with some quality audio and video recordings of our music, and we were like, you know what, let’s keep it going.

We had a live stream where we were raising money about every six weeks or so after that. At that point we started to reach out to other musicians and bands that we knew in the area, and we literally had them come to our house and film in the living room. We did that for about a year, and we were really successful, really enjoying it. We were like, you know, let’s actually turn this into something that we can keep building from so that we can help other musicians and artists in the Boston area. Just give them a platform and raise money for social causes that we believe in at the same time. And it has definitely been a wild ride, but it’s been really cool so far.

Last spring was when we officially were able to have our first in-person events, the first one of those being the Roots Project, which took place this past March. We decided to partner with a local Allston DIY venue called the Pelvic Floor, and we basically turned their entire house into an art and music gallery. We had several artists set up gallery spaces in the upstairs level, and there were more artists in the basement, and then we had bands playing all day. And again, that was another thing where it just took an immense amount of planning, and that was definitely the hardest part of it. But on the day of the show, it actually went extremely smoothly. The planning is always the hardest part. You’re just thinking of every possible thing that can go wrong, and what the hell you’re going to do if it does.

At this point in the Hug The Tree chapter, we’re starting to think about transitioning, because we’re starting to spread out to different cities. But we’re still in the middle of getting our official nonprofit status, and we want to keep reaching for that. We’re thinking of transitioning into more of a magazine, like an online type of publication. And I think that will also allow us to not just dip into the Boston community, but dip into the other communities that we’ll be a part of.

November is a very, very busy month for us. I think we have six or seven shows coming up in the next five weeks. So yeah, it’s going to be really crazy. I’m also in the middle of producing some songs that are set to come out at the beginning of next year. The best way to stay in the know about all of that stuff is to stay in touch 

Again, it’s all in the planning. The thing with the shows is I try to plan as much as possible, but the shows are a completely different beast. I’m really grateful for every show we get to play and every musician who we share the stage with. It’s my true passion. Performing with the band is one of the best feelings ever and each show is so different from the last! If you’ve seen us perform around Boston you know all about our free bubble wands and such…it’s always a good time!

Q&A with Kelsey Blackstone: It’s all in the planning

To most of the world, Buck Meek is best known as the guitarist in Big Thief, an ethereal folk-rock band that has enjoyed a huge rise in popularity in recent years. To me, however, Buck Meek is known for his outfits, which somehow always catch me slightly off guard. So, naturally, the question at the top of my mind as I climbed the Sinclair steps was this: what was he going to wear this time? Would it be the implausibly shiny satin shirt that he wears in

, which is probably not shaped like any other hat in the world? Or maybe, (although this was unlikely, given that the show was indoors), the puffer jacket with one sleeve rolled up that I saw him wear at Big Thief’s chilly Northampton show last month? But no. To my surprise, Meek made a suave and unassuming outfit choice for the first show of his month-long tour: a tight t-shirt, equally tight black jeans, and polished black boots.

Buck Meek’s unassuming outfit. Photo: Faith Nguyen (@faithwinphotos)

Clad thusly, Buck Meek stepped out onto the expansive stage with his band, a simple and classic set-up of drummer (Austin Vaughn), lead guitarist (Adam Brisbin), and bassist. And now is probably a good time to mention that nearly 

 about Meek’s music is simple and classic. Often repeating the same major chord progressions, his guitar playing lays the unmoving foundation for his transcendent songwriting. Meek sings about the little things – the trusty mechanic who fixes his grandma’s car in “Joe by the Book,” or the blue jay stuck in his kitchen in “Dream Daughter” – but these stories feel anything but insignificant. In short, it’s folk-rock at its finest.

Meek kicked off his set with “Pareidolia,” a soft but driving ode to the patterns we see in the clouds. His hands, which are quite possibly the largest guitar-playing hands in folk rock, barely seemed to touch his strings, and Meek was enjoying himself. His band, however, had a few kinks to work out at first. Adam Brisbin’s imitations of a pedal steel sounded much more like a guitar, and it was clear the band needed more time to mesh together. Meek seemed unconcerned, and after working through the first few songs, the band found their groove.

Lead guitarist Adam Brisbin. Photo: Faith Nguyen (@faithwinphotos)

One of the best things about seeing Buck Meek play is the joy of watching him feel the music. More than any other musician I’ve seen, Meek lets the sounds float through him. Snare hits make his shoulders jerk forward, a sudden change in key can make his head twist, and throughout it all, his eyes remain blissfully closed. Watching this unfold from the audience, it’s almost impossible not to let it move you too.

After treating the crowd to an unreleased song called “The Undae Dunes,” Meek launched into an older song called “Sam Bridges,” which the diehard fans in the audience loved. Meek’s band was perfectly in sync now, and the most delightful part of this was observing Meek’s chemistry with his lead guitarist. Brisbin’s reverb-drenched riffs were a perfect match for Meek’s comparatively simple acoustic chords, and the whole band’s sound was shining. Another treat came during “Dream Daughter,” where Meek’s drummer launched into a driving brush groove that gave the song an entirely new feel. The band finished with a well-chosen selection of songs from Meek’s two most recent releases, closing with a powerful rendition of “Halo Light.”

Stage lights twinkle on Buck Meek and his bassist. Photo: Faith Nguyen (@faithwinphotos)

For the first show of their tour, and what Meek cheekily described as his ‘album release show’ (his most recent LP, 

, came out in January 2021, when live music was unthinkable), the band fell into their rhythm incredibly quickly, and clearly had fun doing it. So, despite not wearing a funky hat or out-of-place puffer jacket, Buck Meek still stole the show, and there’s no doubt he’s headed off on a very successful tour.


Buck Meek finds his tour groove at the Sinclair

Aediles is Coleman Sullivan and Owen Sullivan, two unrelated Boston natives whose high-school friendship evolved into an electronic music project during the depths of the pandemic. They released their debut LP, 

, in August of this year. WRBB’s Fenner Dreyfuss-Wells met up with the duo to talk about stir-craziness, obscure techno, and what comes next for the Aediles project.

:Do you want to tell me a little bit about your origin story?

:So, we’re both Sullivans from Boston; we went to Boston Latin [School] together. No relation at all.

: I think we both had a lot of music taste in common throughout high school, but we also were into very different things. And then we went off to college and didn’t really talk to each other for a while, and when we came back together, we realized our tastes had really kind of –

We had both gotten really into electronic music and synthesizers, and making music on computers, kind of independent of each other. And then when we got back together, we were like, oh, fuck.

:Yeah. I think we went out to get dinner, and it ended up with us kind of walking all around Cambridge. And then at the end of it, we were like, yeah, we should do an album. And we should do a live show. And at the time, I was like, I really hope this works out. But it was the middle of COVID.

Yeah, like the depths. Shit was just about to get bad.

: Yeah. So we were kind of like, oh, shit, how is this going to work? And so we kept a correspondence up. And then we just started sending each other audio files back and forth. And there was an objective from day one – we wanted to finish an album. And we both stuck with it pretty hard, which was great. It was good to have unity of purpose in music, which was something I had seldom experienced, especially in high school, where I hadn’t really found a genre that I had really gravitated towards or felt that I could express myself through, if that makes sense. I spent a lot of time listening to trap music. And I liked it a great deal at the time, but I just felt angry and upset. It wasn’t artistic impulse that led me to the music that I enjoyed at the time. And so it wasn’t until I was able to really sit on my own for long periods of time, just listening to music for myself, and not to give myself energy or to induce a certain emotion, that I kind of found what I liked.

And then, yeah, once shit got really bad with COVID, we were basically just confined to our rooms for a few months. So I’d say we formed in early October [of 2020]. And then throughout the spring, we were both kind of on go mode. When I wasn’t in classes, I was just, like, fucking making songs on my computer, and he was the same thing.

: Yeah, I was going crazy. I mean, I was in a single [room], and I had never been to Tufts, so I had no friends there. My only friend from high school who went there was gone for the semester. And so I was just sitting in my room, alone, for months at a time.

Yeah, I was on the same shit. I was just at home with my family, or going to work, or just making music.

Coleman Sullivan (above) and Owen Sullivan (below).

Would you have described yourself as electronic musicians before this project?

Absolutely not, no. I’ve played in indie bands with [Owen]. And I’m also in a punk band. So all my stuff up until then was very much punk- and hardcore-based. That’s also a lot of what I listen to and stuff, but COVID really drove me into electronic music. I started wanting to make it. It was very strange. It was definitely a product of isolation.

: Yeah, yeah. Totally. I don’t think I would have gotten into it, otherwise.

Do you guys want to talk about your electronic influences a little bit?

There’s a handful of bands that we really bonded over initially. Arthur Russell was a big one.

Stereolab. This band called This Heat from the ‘80s. Who else? Aphex Twin, Boards of Canada, the obvious ones. Everything off of Warp in the ‘90s. Four Tet, Autechre.

: We would sit down and be like, these drums, they have to be just like Autechre.

A lot of weird funk from the ‘70s. Funky punk. Like Lizzy Mercier Descloux.

: Lizzy Mercier Descloux, a lot of post punk and no wave artists, that was huge for me. Who else?

Some contemporary stuff. Dean Blunt, ESG, Hype Williams.

: Yes. Hype Williams is huge. For live sets, those guys are a big influence.

There’s a Hype Williams live set video where we both watched it, and we were like, this is exactly it.

: Yeah, absolutely. Also, generally I think we draw a lot from techno and stuff too, at this point.

: I’m pretty particular about it, though. A lot of it I find very monotonous. It’s kind of rare that I find one individual techno song that I like. Generally I like the sounds, you know what I mean? Not necessarily the whole tracks.

: Shinichi Atobe. Oh, that’s a huge, huge influence. That’s one of the big ones I always forget. Yeah, he’s fantastic. Also, oh, what’s his face? Galcher Lustwerk. He’s great, man. He’s fantastic. He just produced an [Azealia Banks] song. Very, very good. I had been listening to his music for a little while, and then he came out with that song. And it’s like, fantastic. And very popular.

Owen Sullivan (left) and Coleman Sullivan (right).

I’m curious about the thematic process behind the album. How did you name everything, and is there a deeper meaning you want to communicate?

It’s very nautical themed. There’s like a nautical thing. Which, I don’t know, where did that even come from?

: Oh, the DVD. We were jamming one day. Yeah, in like, January. And I used to have this DVD that my girlfriend’s mom gave to me, because she found me a huge package of these PBS documentaries in the basement. So I had like, eight of them, nine of them, maybe even 12. And they’re all like, “The Mystery of Eels” or like, “The Story of Lions” or some absurd thing like that. And I gave them out as presents, but I kept this one because I thought it was so funny. And I just had it on top of my speakers and [Coleman was] like, that’s a sweet album name.

And then I sent you a song one day, and you were like, “this song is ‘The Mystery of Eels.’” And that ended up being the song “The Mystery of Eels” on the album.

: Yeah, and then the naming was kind of all over the place, but I think, thematically, it’s consistent.

The song “Seamstress” is called that because we used a sample of a sewing machine.

: Oh, yeah, I should say that my mom is a quilter. And she gave me this one that’s blue, kind of like an ocean. And [there’s] all sorts of nautical themed stuff on it. And it kind of rocks. And so all the samples of me speaking on [“Seamstress”] are just me listing sequences of the things on the quilt. And then yeah, we used the sample of the sewing machine too. That was a cool song. That was one of the first ones we did as a jam session. We just recorded it straight up, which was very fun.

What are you guys looking forward to in the future for this project?

Playing live is gonna be amazing. Just getting cracking on new music, too, honestly. I have so many different directions I wanna go [in], and just getting started on LP number two would be cool. I mean, I just want to be as prolific as possible, honestly. And, I don’t know, just get more people to listen. Yeah, getting more of a following. And being able to play live and have people come up to you and be like, oh, that was cool.

: Yeah. That would be my biggest reward in doing it. And yeah, performing live will be so fun.

Q&A: Meet Aediles, a Boston-bred electronic duo inspired by quilts and ocean documentaries

What’s most remarkable about this track is the band’s ability to float so effortlessly into clouds of untethered distortion, then come right back down to earth to deliver a hard-hitting verse.

Out of the slew of new projects emerging from the haze of the pandemic, Boston indie rock band 

 (Martin Kessler, Alex Massey, Bailey Willets, Miguel Aragon, Veronica Bettio) is one to watch. The group’s first release, “run it back / fire escape,” came on the heels of a long stint doing 

, which gained remarkable popularity. Now, just a few months after their debut single, Dino Gala is back with an extremely promising second release.

“Fun Fair” is short and sweet, running about two minutes and containing just a few verses. What’s most remarkable about this track is the band’s ability to float so effortlessly into clouds of untethered distortion, then come right back down to earth to deliver a hard-hitting verse. The song reeks of anger and jealousy, from more subtly scathing lines like “everyone knows your friends” to the explosive “fuck that, I’m so mad.” Kessler’s vocals – deep, throaty, and resonant – anchor the emotion of the track perfectly, and fit right in with the band’s ear-hugging grunge. At the track’s climax, Massey joins in screaming harmony, exuding a delightfully controlled anger. To top it all off, the vocals are supported by a spot-on rhythm section, tied down by Bettio’s perfectly distorted drums. The track shows traces of inspiration from other East Coast fuzz-rock – two bands that come to mind easily are 

. All in all, “Fun Fair” is an exciting second release from the fledgling group.

DIY is back, baby: Listen to Dino Gala’s “Fun Fair”

Katie Lynne Sharbaugh is a Philadelphia-born singer-songwriter and soon-to-be Berklee graduate. WRBB’s Fenner Dreyfuss-Wells caught up with her to chat about songwriting, plans for the future, and the process of creating her latest project. The debut single “Nothing Left To Lose,” from her forthcoming two-part project 

 is out now on all major streaming platforms.

: How does it feel to be putting out the first piece of this project to the whole world?

 I am so impatient. Honestly, I want everyone to hear it right now, because this project is like my child. This project is like a work of heart completely. And we worked so hard on it. It took us almost a year. So, I’m just so excited for everyone to hear it. And even just for me, just to have it out there. It’s super personal. And I’m really proud of the work we’ve done. So yeah, I can’t wait.

You mentioned this project took almost a year. Can you tell me how the process started and about everything you’ve done so far?

Yeah, so how this all started was kind of on a whim, [my manager] Bernice met this guy named Micah through [the Berklee] A&R club, and they became friends. And they started talking and Micah told her about how he’s in this band [The Brazen Youth]. And they have this studio on a farm and they record there and he was like, “You should come, you should record some music.” And I was like, okay, let me just get an album together, because I’ve been writing for years, and I just didn’t have the resources really to make a big project like this. So in like two weeks, we kind of turned it all around, we were like, okay, we’re going, and we quarantined on the farm for about two weeks. And just we worked like nine to nine every day just pumping out music. And then after that we took another trip. And then we had our friend Charlie, who’s also in [The Brazen Youth] with Micah, mix and engineer everything and produce everything. And we had some guest artists come on and send stems in. And now we’re just doing promotion. So it takes a lot longer than you would think.

I know that the recording process for this album was pretty special and pretty important to the final product. Can you tell me what it was like out there in the studio and how that showed itself in the final product?

Absolutely. It was the perfect place to record, honestly, it was on this rustic little farm in Connecticut, in Old Lyme, Connecticut, and there were horses, which – I’m a horse girl. So that was perfect for me, it really set the scene. There were goats, chickens, dogs and everything. And we were just in the studio, very quaint, and – Charlie’s very innovative in the way he records things. So he would make us go into this barn, the real barn where all the farm stuff was kept, I guess. And he would just hang a microphone from the ceiling and have us play everything acoustic. So it was very DIY, kind of makeshift – we just used what was around us and it was kind of symbolic of who I am, seeing as I’m a horse girl and I spent summers in Ireland, so I love the country. And yeah, we just added a lot of random stuff that we found around too, we added a cowbell, Bernice had this wooden frog thing that she plays with a stick, you know what I’m talking about? We added that, we added tambourine. And yeah, it was supposed to be an electronic album, actually, believe it or not, but with all the musicians we had there it just kind of turned into a rock album. Yeah, a lot of the processes we did were really cool too, like for one of the songs we turned off all the lights in the studio and everyone had their flashlights out just waving to the song. So yeah, we really put a lot of work into our setting as well.

That’s so cool. Because I feel like it’s easy to think that a song is a song and it’s always going to sound the same, but those little tiny details probably make you perform the recording so differently.

Honestly, like I remember, when we were in the barn, when I told you he was hanging the microphone over, we were just playing an acoustic version. Also, we had someone’s phone out recording it on voice memos just to give it that extra homey touch. And that’s layered over the final master. But when we were performing that I literally teared up, I was crying because it was all coming to fruition. And these people are all just standing in a circle around me wishing, rooting for me, you know? And that’s a really special feeling. And that’s part of the magic of the farm. Honestly, I would totally recommend anyone go record there.

What do you think you learned from that recording process?

I think this sounds kind of cheesy, but I think the biggest thing I learned was just to really believe in what you’re making. Because I went into it thinking maybe this is too much to handle. Maybe two weeks is not enough time to get everything done. Like I’ve never done this before. And then I just walked in and within the first two hours, we made a song. And also it sounded completely different than what any of us had imagined. But it was my sound. Like, we had found my sound. Which I hadn’t really cultivated yet, at that point.

It’s not very methodical for me. Usually, something will just pop into my head where I’ll sit down and I’ll be noodling at the piano. And I’ll be like, oh, this sounds cool. It’s not like I sit and I think about what I want to say in the song. Or it’s unlikely that I would do that. But it’s really just talking. It’s talking to yourself. Basically. You’re just talking. You’re telling yourself how you feel, and you’re putting it on paper.

You make songwriting seem like a breeze, and you do seem to me like a pretty natural songwriter. Have you always had that experience? Or are there other things you’ve learned along the way that have made you feel like a natural songwriter?

I think the only reason I would think of myself that way is because I’ve been doing it for so long. People don’t realize how much of songwriting is just trial and error. And the fact is, there’s always going to be people that hate your songs, like – so what, you know? I’ve written so many bad songs, and that’s probably what’s made me better as a songwriter, you know, just tweaking them, figuring out what’s wrong with them. Why don’t people like it, you know? And that’s fine, because there’s always going to be a song that you don’t like, so – apply that logic to everyone else.

You’re graduating, I know. Are these your last couple of weeks at Berklee?

Yeah. Well, actually, I do have to do a summer semester to finish up some credits, but Berklee lets you walk before.

It’s scary. Because I don’t know what I’m doing. I think I’m gonna move to Nashville. But who knows? You know, I don’t really have anything planned, which I should, but – so it goes.

Well, first of all, because it’s a lot cheaper than Boston and New York and LA. But second of all, just because I’ve been making a lot of connections there recently. And people seem to like my music there. I think it’s a better scene for my music. Because you know, New York and LA are kind of more pop-y. That’s where the trend is going. So yeah, I think it would be a good fit.

I feel like you’re looking for more of a folky scene.

Kind of. I don’t even know what to call it. Because I think that my music is very nostalgic of different genres. Like even classic rock, on this album. There’s a lot of rock feel. There’s a lot of like weird musical theater vibes, people tell me a lot. I don’t know.

I want to hear more about the themes in your project. What is 

 to you? And what do you explore on the project?

The overarching theme of the album is, I guess, motion, and it’s kind of like a road trip. Each song is a period of my life, I guess, or tells a story about my life and it’s kind of in chronological order. So listening to the album is kind of supposed to be like a story. And a lot of the themes are just about growing up. You know, of course loving people, losing people, being in abusive relationships, that’s a big one.

And this single, specifically, the backstory is really funny. We were in Spain for our first year of college, and we all went drinking during the first week we were there, we went to the club, and then we went to the beach, and I left all my stuff with everyone else’s in the same pile, but mine was the only one that got stolen while we were at the beach, just like partying and having fun. And so the joke was that I had nothing left to lose. And that’s where the song title comes from. But after that, it kind of morphed into being a song about missing your ex. So I guess that’s really what it’s about. But the story behind it is really funny.

I would love to hear about one of your favorite moments from the project.

When we were recording the vocals for “Maybe We Want This,” which is the last song on the first EP, there’s this one part where it’s like the climax of the song. And it’s like, a big belt with a run going down. And I remember just being in the studio and seeing Bernice and Charlie and Micah and Aidan, my guitarist, vibing outside, and I’m just getting ready for this huge moment. And I know it’s just gonna be great. Like, it’s the best moment of the whole song. It’s so soulful. And I hit it. And I notice Bernice is filming me. And I nail it. And she gets it on video. And I don’t know, it was just a great moment, knowing that there’s so many people out there that really support me, and they want everyone else to know about it, you know? It’s a precious thing to have that kind of support in your life.

Q&A: Berklee singer-songwriter Katie Lynne Sharbaugh offers a behind-the-scenes look at her latest project

With Wendy Eisenberg, Spring Silver, Billy Capricorn, Squirrel Flower, Carol, Melissa Lozada-Oliva, Suzie True, and Squitch

Amidst a swirl of Valentine’s Day loneliness, I sat down to watch the only thing I would ever want to watch on such a special day: the Disposable America Valentine’s Day Party Online, featuring, among a long list of incredible acts, Northeastern alumna and star of my heart Sidney Gish. Gish, who graduated with Northeastern’s class of 2020, has been fairly quiet since the release of her 2017 album 

 Although there are no signs of a new release coming any time soon, she’s stayed engaged with a series of outstanding online performances since the pandemic began, and this one was no exception.

While online concerts are a weak substitute for the real thing, they’re all we can cling to for the time being. Allston record label 

 is one of the many institutions keeping the scene alive through this sad time for music, hosting regular Q&As and shows on their 

. Sure, you won’t taste anyone else’s sweat, or get a black eye from some forty-year-old man who thinks he has some special power over the mosh pit, but there are still a few nice things about an online show. For one, the general atmosphere was kind and caring. When one user had to go to bed because “it’s 1am in Spain and I work early tomorrow,” they were sent off with a fanfare of “goodnight” and “have a good day at work !!” Nobody would ever wish you a good day at work at a live show in between mosh pit arm-flails.

 started off the evening, referencing an endearingly messy five-subject notebook as they worked through a set full of sparse and floating acoustic songs. Highlights included a delightfully wacky banjo improvisation, and an announcement that Eisenberg’s baby cousin had been born that day. Sidney Gish, hiding in the shadows as she waited her turn to perform, wished the baby a happy birthday.

Rocking a vintage knit sweater and shorts, Maryland post-emo guitarist 

 was up next. Their set was brief but resonant, and Sidney Gish gave it her approval with a “wooo” in the chat. Next was producer 

, supported by friends from Virginia experimental collective 

. This set revealed another treat of virtual performances – the little glimpses we get into an artist’s home. Billy’s webcam showed a room full of friends, some seemingly unaware that they were on camera, lounging on couches and sipping mixed drinks. Billy’s trip-hop was a nice break from the indie-ness, and earned another stamp of approval from Sidney Gish (“woo0oo0ooo”).

At long last, Sidney Gish took the stage (screen? airwaves?). In true Gish fashion, she sported an eye-destroyingly flashy pink screen overlay. As one well-spoken commenter put it, the setup was “extremely Early Internet.” Gish spent a while bantering about her tech issues, which was a performance all of its own.

I must admit, however, that if Gish hadn’t been the one performing it, her set would have been a bit disappointing. It was just three short songs, all covers, and it was over in 12 minutes. But Sidney Gish is 

good at themes, and embraced the spirit of Valentine’s Day so thoroughly that it was hard to complain. Her first selection was a cover of Nat King Cole’s “L-O-V-E,” adapted for Gish’s funky bass over a very Gishy drum loop. This was excellent. Next, Gish introduced us to Britney Spears’ “E-Mail My Heart.” In her own words, “it’s about emails, ‘cause everybody’s been doing emails!” Gish’s drum-and-bass composition was delightful, and led one spectator to note that “this could singlehandedly 

.” The set finished with Jonathan Richman’s “Not So Much to Be Loved As to Love,” done in the same style.

Gish’s set was short, yes, but this brevity was almost a statement of its own. She gave us just enough to satisfy our thirsty tongues, but no more. Her performance stood as a singular statement of theme: Look at this, she said. This is Valentine’s Day.

The night finished as strongly as it began. Sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by candles and wine, 

 played a delightful set, which ended with her cover of Caroline Polachek’s “So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings.” Next was a bright and ringing set from New-York-based solo artist 

, followed by a handful of profound readings from poet 

 ended the night with a pair of solo sets, one from guitarist Em Spooner and another from drummer Denzil Leach.

Despite a lineup jam-packed with amazing talent, this show did feel a bit exhausting. There’s only so much TV-watching one can take, and four hours (four hours!) definitely crosses that line. That said, it’s not like I was locked in the usual cage of sweat and arms. I could easily take a break whenever I wanted, or even just turn off the show, but I do wish I could have focused my listening energy on just a few of these amazing artists. It’s okay, though – hopefully, the virtual concert won’t be our only resort for too much longer. Until that day comes, however, be prepared for some serious eyeball fatigue.

The DA Valentine’s Day Party Online collected donations for 

, an organization working for abolition of the criminal punishment system, which disproportionately impacts lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, and intersex people, as well as those living with HIV.