Some nights feel like a deep breath you didn’t know you needed
On February 25, 2026, The Strumbellas brought their North American tour to Nashville’s beloved 3rd & Lindsley, a venue that feels more like a musical living room than a concert hall. The timing couldn’t have been better. Rain poured over the city, neon reflections dancing across wet streets, and inside the venue, fans gathered early, beers in hand, merch freshly bought, ready to sing their hearts out. Families with teens lined the barricade, longtime fans claimed their corners, and the moment the band stepped onstage, the cheers made it clear: Nashville was ready.
The Strumbellas have spent years building a reputation as one of the most emotionally honest and musically engaging alternative rock bands to come out of Canada. Formed in 2008, the group built its following the old-fashioned way — relentless touring, heartfelt songwriting, and a live show that turns any room into a communal sing-along. Their latest project, Burning Bridges Into Dust, leans into a slightly edgier sound while keeping the vulnerability and melodic warmth that made them beloved in the first place. Their songs live somewhere between folk-rock confession and indie-anthem therapy session, and on this tour, those songs feel bigger, bolder, and more human than ever.
The set moved fast — almost too fast — because once the music started, time stopped making sense. From the opening stretch of “Hanging Out In My Head” and “Salvation,” the crowd was already clapping in rhythm, stomping along as if the entire room had rehearsed together. Orange and blue lights washed the stage in warm and shadowy tones, creating a moody but welcoming atmosphere that matched the emotional push and pull of the music. It felt raw, intimate, and very alive.
One of my personal highlights of the night was “Skin of My Teeth.” Live, the song carried a sharper edge, the percussion hitting harder while the chorus opened up into something almost cathartic. It was one of those moments where you look around and realize everyone is moving together — strangers singing the same words like they belong to all of us. As a photographer, I kept lowering my camera just to take it in. Some moments are better felt than documented.
“Steal My Soul” followed later in the set and felt like a warm rush of nostalgia and hope wrapped into one. There is something incredibly sincere about the way this band performs — no ego, no distance. Just musicians who look like they genuinely enjoy playing together. They laugh between songs, exchange glances, and interact with the crowd as if we’re all part of the same circle. That connection is rare, and it’s what keeps people coming back.
When “Young and Wild” started, the energy lifted again. The song carried a sense of freedom that fit perfectly with the night rain outside, glowing lights inside, and a room full of people letting go of whatever they carried in with them. The Strumbellas have a way of making introspective songs feel celebratory, and celebratory songs feel deeply personal. It’s a balance few bands manage well, and they make it seem effortless.
Throughout the show, the band moved seamlessly between instruments — guitars traded, harmonies layered, percussion building and fading — showcasing just how musically tight they are. The stage design remained simple, echoing the artwork and mood of the new EP, allowing the music and chemistry between bandmates to remain the true centerpiece. They looked like they were having as much fun as we were, and that kind of genuine joy spreads fast in a small venue.
By the time the closing notes of “Spirits” filled the room, the entire crowd was singing without hesitation. It was the perfect ending — hands in the air, voices loud, hearts open. The kind of finale that doesn’t feel like a goodbye but like a shared release.
Walking back out into the rainy Nashville night, the city lights shimmered on the pavement and everything felt a little softer, a little brighter. The Strumbellas have always had a gift for turning introspection into something communal, and at 3rd & Lindsley they delivered a show that felt deeply human from start to finish.
An amazing end to the night — the kind you carry home with you.
