This event is all ages.
$30.00 – General Admission
*plus applicable service fees
For an additional $85.00, you can opt in to upgrade your experience to include access to the exclusive Looking Glass Lounge before, during and after the show! Please note all Looking Glass Lounge upgrades are subject to availability.
Join us at The Virginian one hour before doors for food & drinks!
All doors & show times subject to change.
A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet’s new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album’s ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman’s voice slicing through the din.
Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It’s not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void – somehow – you see everything.
Draag inhabits the space between bliss and pain, interweaving shoegaze, electro-industrial, and punk elements within a pop ballad. Originating in Sylmar, a forgotten neighborhood in Los Angeles, Draag began when Adrian Acosta (songwriter, vocalist, guitarist) revived songs he recorded on his karaoke tape deck when he was 10 years old. After years of refining their sound, five-piece Draag gained a reputation for their sonically immersive live shows in LA, largely by word of mouth, known for transforming any range of DIY to high production stage into a wall of sound described as a storm in slow motion.