GLITTERER + BLEARY EYED + GUTTERED + BREATH WISH
MON SEP 21 | 7:30 PM | DISTRICT LIVE
Geography gave Kingston, Pennsylvania’s Title Fight a boost. About 100 miles from both NYC and Philly, the melodic punk and post-hardcore quartet gained major underground success in the 2010s. After a successful tour, they stopped. No drama, no announcement, just a smattering of shows over the next two years.
Bassist Ned Russin had more to give. His side project, Glitterer, began as a solo bass-synth-beatbox affair. Those seeds planted, he added a wall of fuzz guitars and a real drum kit, playing most of the instruments himself, and released Looking Through the Shades, a warm and fuzzy pop-punk blanket.
Think Weezer’s blue album with extra synths and much more emo, or early Smashing Pumpkins minus the grandiosity. Follow-up records maintain the idea with various levels of refinement, and all are loaded with earworm hooks and simple melodies, somehow presented with girth and air. Russin complicates nothing, to great success.
Regional pals Bleary Eyed, from Philly, have some overlap. Beyond the legit indie vibe, the strings aren’t quite as huge and there are more electronics and loops than the headliner’s synth hooks. Like a chaotic Pinback, Bleary Eyed balances melodic restraint with dreaminess.
Shoegaze tendencies run through both bands, but DC’s Guttered are the most dedicated. Large, gauzy riffs and walls of reverb ring through their material, like Hum without the metal.
Breath Wish, Savannah’s emerging “twinkly emo” experts, quickly earned a coveted spot on the relatively prestigious District Live stage. Finally, props to Dog Days for an underground show in one of the best rooms in town for $20.
YOUR LAST BREATH + THE BLACK STRAIN + MISS SHAE
MON SEP 21 | 6 PM | COASTAL EMPIRE BEER CO.
An old Saturday Night Live skit included a product that was both a floor cleaner and a dessert topping. Less drastic but just as jarring, Minnesota’s Your Last Breath offers beastly metalcore sung by a demon with a sore throat and melodic pop-punk with capable, emotive singing in the same song.
It’s a very stark contrast that happens in many of their songs with no warning whatsoever. It works because the band can do both and vocalist Dustan Cano has a throat seemingly lined with titanium.
Local metal duo The Black Strain are celebrating the release of Rose Amongst the Skulls, a six-song EP that will straight flatten you. More than sludge, the riffs are ridiculously thick and rich, with nods to Black Sabbath, Celtic Frost, and Sleep. Vocals might remind the elderly of Hellhammer.
Percussionist and singer Miss Shae plays alt-metal with a pop edge. The first single, Inferno, gallops along with scooped-out palm muting and gobs of texture.
DROOK + NOSEBLEEEEED + GLEN PARKS
THU SEP 24 | 9 PM | THE WORMHOLE
Richmond, Virginia’s Drook return after a blistering Say Hey performance last summer that made their “pop band” label seem almost comically inadequate. The trio piles electronics, loops, vocal effects, and thunderous live drumming into songs that veer between frantic dance music and hardcore punk.
Singer-guitarist Liza Grishaeva anchors the chaos, shifting between heavily processed vocals and more direct singing while guitar, bass, and electronics crowd the edges. The electronic beats and live drums lock together and hit hard. When the order switches from dancing to moshing, the unpredictability becomes the appeal.
Nosebleeeeed has been producing interesting electronic weirdness in Savannah since at least 2020. Spanning mostly “normal” electropop songs you can dance to all the way to multi-layered loops and sound effects you can hide bodies to, the range is impressive.
Miss Glen Parks relocated to Savannah a couple of years ago, bringing tons of the sweetest synth-pop you’ll hear. With a voice so uplifting and light, even the sad breakup songs might make you smile.
COLE EDWARD PHILLIPS
SAT SEP 26 | 3–6 PM | OVER YONDER
Over Yonder’s matinee series may have found its ideal species of musician. Cole Edward Phillips is a 22-year-old country singer-songwriter from Allen, Texas, whose sound stretches from ’70s country through modern honky-tonk without getting too slick for the room. His current material, including Out of Patience, leans into straightforward hooks, barroom melancholy, and enough twang to keep things grounded.
An afternoon at Over Yonder works best when the music feels like it was made for the room. Despite his age, Phillips has already logged the kind of roadwork that builds that comfort. His 2026 calendar is packed with bars, beach spots, festivals, and afternoon sets like this one.
He has the songs, the Texas pedigree, and the right amount of polish, but it's the kind of sound that doesn't need theater seats and a lighting rig. It, like all of us, needs cold beer, good food, and maybe some daylight leaking into the room to remind you there's an entire Saturday night yet to come.
TASTY VIBRATIONS
FRI SEP 25 | 8 PM | BROUGHTON STREET BOWL & BREW
Vermont has Phish and the Northeast remains second-wave jam-band holy ground since the Wetlands days in NYC, but apparently nobody told Florida. Pompano Beach’s Tasty Vibrations developed their improvisational instincts about as far south as you can get without needing a passport.
The band’s surroundings show. Rather than chilly prog excursions and endless noodling, the five-piece mixes reggae, funk, rock, and R&B into something sunnier, looser, and built to move in bare feet on sand.
Frontman Sean De Beltrand and guitarist Max Accetta started playing together about a decade ago, eventually expanding the group with keyboards, bass, and drums. More than 1,000 shows later, they’ve developed the kind of communication required to stretch songs out without losing them, or the audience.
There’s a structure underneath the jams, with riffs signaling when it’s time to quit wandering. The locals seem to love it. Fort Lauderdale Magazine readers have voted them Best Band six years running, through 2025. They may be Florida Men, but it’s doubtful they’ve ever chucked a baby alligator into a Wendy’s drive-through window.
By Frank Ricci