Dressed in our concert attire and tickets clutched between phones, cameras and press passes, we ventured through the entrance to the Mercury Ballroom. Its high, white, angular walls gave it an air of importance, and I knew even before stepping foot inside that its contents were exactly that.
Sure enough, just seconds after we entered the Ballroom, shouts and raucous laughter filled our ears, all sounds echoing the excitement for the upcoming concert. We’d arrived just a couple moments before the opening band, Sun Room, was set to take the stage. We took that time to orient ourselves. Off to the right, lines wormed their way up to the concessions, but the bulk of the fans gravitated toward the center, where ropes blocked off the pit and the stage, everyone waiting in anticipation for the ring of the first note.
Pop music blared across the overhead speakers in the background, we made our way to the front of the room and ran through the necessary precautions. Is the flash off? Is there enough storage? Which angle is best?
All our worries dissipated when, with a sudden burst of red and blue strobe lights, four men stepped into the spotlight. Sun Room stepped into their respective spots to an outroar of cheers, and a surge of people pushing to get a better view of the band. With a strong drumline and exuberant guitar, they rolled into their first song.
Sun Room, a band formed during the COVID-19 pandemic, is an American “surf band” from Southern California who meld central surf, new wave, metal and soul into their own unique style of music. Their first album came out in 2020, and now, with the release of their latest album “Can’t Explain,” they’re looking for new ways to promote their songs. Enter: the Dayglow tour.
While they’ve toured with artists before, like the Irish band Inhaler and Louis Tomlinson, the Dayglow tour was the first one to make a stop in Louisville.
As luck would have it, this concert stood to be my first ever, so I didn’t know what to expect. It’s safe to say I was blown away: the light show that exploded with every new note or drumline was enough to send anyone into shock and the amps were turned as high as they could go, ensuring that everyone and their mother could hear the content being passionately broadcast from the Ballroom.
It was so loud that I was sure I would be hearing echoes of their music reverberating through my head for at least the next week — though I can’t say I’m upset. Before the show I’d never heard Sun Room’s music, but as they strummed through their set, I couldn’t help jumping and clapping with the crowd, even if I didn’t know the lyrics.
The guitar faded with their final song, and eager murmurs flitted through the crowd. While people milled about the floor and wandered to the back for more food and drink, the band’s teams cleared the stage and filled it with new instruments, though the lineup seemed the same: lead vocalist in the front middle, drummer directly behind, guitarist on the left, and bassist on the right.
While we waited for Dayglow’s big entrance, I searched for the setlist. Though I was curious to see if some of my favorite of their lesser known songs would be on the list, there was no lying to myself — I was looking for their biggest song, the winner of two platinum, a gold and a silver award in four different countries: “Can I Call You Tonight?” I scrolled to the bottom and there it was, #19. I knew it was the song that everyone knew them by, but it was one of those songs where it was famous for a reason.
But Dayglow has been around for a long time, and they’ve had many accomplishments since their founding in 2017. Started by Sloan Struble, the main vocalist and assisting guitarist, Dayglow’s name was inspired by “Day Glo” by Brazos and characterizes a generation of solo indie pop. Though he now tours with three other members, bassist Peyton Harrington, drummer Brady Knippa and guitarist Colin Crawford, the band itself is his brain child and the addition of different members throughout the years has been temporary.
Struble has been making music since he was a high school student, even releasing songs under the name “Kindred” in 2016 before he created Dayglow and released his landmark album “Fuzzybrain.” Since then, he’s made three other albums, the most recent being the self-titled album “Dayglow.”
I started listening to him about a year ago, when my friend recommended a couple songs from the “Fuzzybrain” album. I’ve been hooked ever since, and when I got the notification that they’d be returning to Louisville after seven years, I knew I wanted to be there.
And then there I was, waiting in anticipation on the bench beside the pit of the stage, knowing the band was not 10 feet behind the backdrop of the stage.
The Chappell Roan song playing through the speakers ended, and the crowd silenced.
With a flash of white, the room delved into a deep red hue, and Dayglow took the stage. Sporting a sleek red guitar and red converse to match, Struble jumped into his first song of the night – “Junior Varsity / Broken Bone.”
Even if I didn’t know the songs by heart — or even at all — goosebumps chilled my arms and a smile of awe stayed stagnant on my face. Each strum of the guitar and beat of the drum resulted in a new pattern of lights showering the crowd, from greens and blues to yellows and reds, strobe lights to spotlights, the crowd was never bored.
The first song came to an end, and Struble threw his hands in the air, revealing his plain white T-shirt, a staple clothing choice. In drawn-on black lettering, it read “only over thinking when I’m close to Lou,” a slightly altered line from the top song of the “Harmony House” album, “Close To You.” This tradition of writing catchy phrases unique to each city he tours in is not new, but highly anticipated with each show.
Once the cheers died down, Struble leaned into the mic and asked, “What’s up Louisville?” which caused the cheers to redouble. Between each song, he told stories of other tours he’d been on, how he got into music, and, at one point, even allowed someone from the crowd to play along on Struble’s guitar to “Hotrod,” another song off of the “Fuzzybrain” album.
The songs flew by, from hit singles to album highlights, Dayglow hit every mark. The audience went from screaming the lyrics to swaying in time with the guitar, cheers and shouts with every guitar solo or vocal rift, and always an undying energy and support for the band.
So when Struble announced “only two songs left!” the crowd audibly protested, some already calling for an encore. One more song went by, lulling to an end, when he leaned into the mic and said, “I guess it’s about that time.”
Blue lights exploded across the stage as the opening melody of “Can I Call You Tonight?” began.
The crowd began vocalizing with the instruments, like they’d memorized every beat and note. Subconsciously, I had, too.
I’m not one to get emotional over music, but as soon as I heard that first note, even before the song had started, my arms chilled and my eyes glazed. This song, one I’d been listening to for so long, was happening right now, live in front of my eyes.
In-person performances had that effect on people; when listening to music in ear buds or from a phone, it’s different than hearing it in the car (which I find preferable to any other medium), but when hearing the artist themselves it’s like they’re singing for you. They aren’t some distant group who made a song on your playlist, they’re real people who pored over the lyrics and the notes to create a masterpiece, and they’re not 10 feet in front of you, singing and playing it for you.
By the end of the song, I, as well as many others, were in tears. The band thanked Louisville once again and jogged off stage to a chorus of “encore! encore!” from the crowd.
Knowing we couldn’t stay any longer, I spared one last look at the now-empty stage, the black boxes piled haphazardly across it, spelling out ‘dayglow’ in blocky white lettering, basked in blue, memories of my first and favorite concert already feeling distant and unreal.
Cold air hit me in the face as we stepped out into the downtown night. Even as we returned to the parking garage and piled in the car, I could still hear the echoes of Dayglow.
