The Tale of Two High School Besties Who Ended Up In Utah; Kilby Block Party Review Edition
My best friend from high school, Evelyn, and I bonded over our love of music. Instead of talking about our anatomy and physiology homework senior year, we were talking about The Vamps, Louis the Child, or Niall Horan’s new solo career (which was new in 2017, by the way. Do we not remember the rage that was Flicker? “Slow Hands”? “This Town”?).
When we found the fourth iteration of the Kilby Block Party lineup through a random Instagram ad in February of 2023, featuring favorites like Dominic Fike, Gus Dapperton, and Remi Wolf, we knew we were going to be in Salt Lake City every May for the foreseeable future.
This year was no different. We texted each other immediately when early bird tickets were released and purchased them. After a few “Hey, we should really look at hotels for Kilby” texts between us, we were ready for the show.
Before we knew it, we were waking up to the Utah mountains in our musty hotel room with a Celsius and a smile, slathering sunscreen on our backs and running to the train. We were more strategic this year about our hotel placement, purposefully putting ourselves within 500 ft of Salt Lake City public transport, knowing that we are not girls who wake up on time. And that’s just about how day one started.]
[You know you're beautiful
But that ain't half the gold treasure in your soul what you got 'cause I want it all
With your fingers in my mouth, I fail to see your faults]
Many admire beauty and think they’ve fallen in love, but true passion lies in finding imperfections and recognizing those as what makes someone whole. That’s the treasure Galvin is referencing here. The outro, “so please don't let me fall,” acknowledges that we’re all scared to be left, but trusting the process is what creates relationships.
On my first album listen, this was my favorite tune, and it's not just because Capricorn is the sign before my own (Aquarius). The song builds quickly to a punchy chorus lined with tambourines and kickdrums. Capricorn is called out, bringing us right into the action:; loud piano, crashing chords, and a little snare drum to seal it all together.
[Capricorn
The year that you were born
Finished fast
And the next one wasn't yours]
The final song was “Roll My Stone,'' which is up to over 6 million streams on Spotify! It was really fun to see a newer band generate such an engaged crowd. My favorite Arcy Drive song is “Time Shrinks,” though, and I think I’m better off not knowing if I missed them playing that one.
The show was rock through and through, with a few short moments to catch our breath. One of those moments was for “‘96 Subaru,” which is the band's broken-hearted ballad. The song garners its name from the repeating lines, “And I've been stuck on the same old tunes, oh, the ones that make me think of you, we were chasing headlights in my '96 Subaru,” which exemplifies a post-breakup shadow illustrated through a song you can't stop singing.
In the same vein as Krooked Kings, another ending to a relationship represented by a repeating phrase.
The crowd at TV Girl was a little shocked at first to see male singer Brad Petering on stage, singing his hypnotic bedroom pop alongside pianist Wyatt Harmon and drummer Jack Wyman. One of his first tracks was the familiar “Cigarettes out the Window,” which the girls behind me described as “such a hot song.” The intro is a ringing, synthed-out beat that, if you listen in headphones, switches from left ear to right. This song is an ode to first relationships, to youth, and to smoking cigarettes at nighttime. Within the first verse, the scene is set: “My girl Liddy used to always smoke, cigarettes when she couldn't sleep,”
Liddy, her cigarettes, and her allusiveness are the focal points of the song, and the naivety of the narrator is highlighted by his many versions of what she’s up to. The instrumentals between each verse were dominated by Petering’s two female backup vocalists.
Moving through the verse, Karpeh’s sweet voice lulls the audience through being vulnerably in love. He seals the message with the chorus, “You're starting up a wildfire in my heart, Hope it's what you want, Not just what you do.”
SUNDAY
DAY THREE: Our last day started off with another SLC public transit ride. Evelyn and I had 20 minutes to sit and wait for the right train, and with our timing, that meant we were right on track to miss our first band. As we sat and talked, a man wearing a black cowboy hat and dark blue denim crossed the street in front of us. To me, he completely blended into a Utah “starter pack”, but Evelyn quickly said, “Oh my god, that’s TV Girl!” Without thinking, I shouted, “TV Girl!” To which he turned, smiled,waved, and continued walking up the street. We giddily laughed like children and waved back. Even though I live in New York City, my celebrity interactions have been minimal, so this was a big deal!
Though it ended up being sort of worth it that we had to wait for the train, that means we did miss most of our next band, Petey. However, we got there just in time for one of my favorites, “Don’t Tell The Boys.” This tune explores male friendships and how they’re sometimes limited by societal expectations of what is and isn’t masculine. Peter Martin, lead singer and instrumentalist, examines this, best exemplified in the lines, “You know I hate to say ‘I love you,’ But thеre ain't no other choice,” which opens up into the repeating, scream-like chorus that sings “don’t tell the boys.” Martin describes the vulnerability of saying you love someone tangled with other people’s expectations.
The final artist we saw at Kilby was Dayglow, a familiar favorite. Sloan Christian Struble is the 24-year-old creator, voice, and multi-instrumentalist of Dayglow. Backed by a vibrant dance-pop beat, what really cements Struble as a performer is the exuberant energy he brings to the stage. “Hot Rod,” one of the many pop anthems from Struble’s 2019 album Fuzzybrain, is a song about mutually moving in a different direction than your partner. Simply put, the chorus belts, “Maybe I'm not all that you thought, and we don't move, like we used to do,” Even singing about some tough parts of growing up, Struble’s infectious positive attitude is apparent through his music. It was the perfect way to end our Kilby experience.