32 Sensational Performances at Kilby Block Party 6

Kilby Block Party was bigger and better than ever this year. Despite the cloudy days and light showers, the crowds were cheering and the music was banging. There was no shortage of talent as artists from a wide range of genres, cultures and places played their hearts out for passionate super fans and fresh new ears. Every moment was filled to the brim with good food and great music creating an electrically exciting atmosphere. In fact, Kilby Block Party 6 had so much to offer they needed a whole extra day to fit all of it in. Here’s hoping we get to see Kilby Block Party continue to grow and bring even more talent into our backyard.

Thursday, May 15

Yo La Tengo

Yo La Tengo was the first band I had to catch at KBP this year. Their classic 1997 record I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One straight-up carried me through the pandemic’s darkest nights, and their other albums are never far from my rotation. While the weather was overcast and gloomy during Yo La Tengo’s afternoon set, the middle-aged rockers put on a show as warm and laid-back as their best albums. This quickly thawed the audience into rapturous swaying as the group played hits like “Autumn Sweater,” “Mr. Tough” and a slightly down-tempo version of “Stockholm Syndrome” which gradually swelled into a blistering guitar solo from Ira Kaplan. The highlight was a deconstructed jam session wherein all three members noodled randomly on their instruments before launching into an electrifying rendition of “Sugarcube” — a long-time favorite of mine. It started to drizzle on our heads as Yo La Tengo wrapped up, but their set was still an auspicious way to kick off this year’s KBP. —Joe Roberts

DEVO

With every Kilby Block Party I attend, I add a new show to my ever-growing list of the best shows I’ve ever seen. In 2023, it was The Strokes. In 2024, it was LCD Soundsystem. This year, it may have been DEVO. My introduction to this band was a rerun of their 1978 Saturday Night Live performance that came on while I was a kid, and seven-year-old me couldn’t believe what he saw: mad professor-ass goofballs in yellow jumpsuits singing like robots while playing guitars that looked like ray guns. I’m happy to report that the band has lost none of their absurdist vitality after all these years. On Thursday evening, they frenetically hopped, shouted and danced through all their must-plays, including “Girl U Want,” “Uncontrollable Urge,” “Jocko Homo” and “Whip It” while switching between wacky outfits complete with knee braces: It can’t be overstated how long these maniacs have been doing this. On the screen behind them, bizarre visuals like fornicating toys, dancing clowns and clips from their younger years played. This all made DEVO’s set every bit as wacky and entertaining as their reputation suggests, and the crowd ate it up, dancing and singing along to every song. Clearly, this festival is just as much for old-heads as it is for the generation who mostly finds new music through TikTok. —Joe Roberts

New Order

Making love to a Korean corn dog, trickling in boxed blue remanence and having two cougars calling me their “North Star,” I was seeking salvation. However, no hunger nor thirst could hold me back from such divinity. If the ‘80s had their own depiction of the afterlife, it would be black-lit pearly gates and fucking New Order as its heavenly choir. The crowd was writhing in and out, exhaling a heavy-set fog. At the right angle, an electrifying grid of lasers and lights shot out like a tractor beam seeking out its audible target. And onstage was the true war machine: Gillian Gilbert’s hypnotic synths and keyboard, Tom Chapman’s glass-shattering riffs from his bassist axe and Bernard Sumner’s vocal drone that can spin back the hands of time. “Bizarre Love Triangle” was solid, especially when they brought out The Killers frontman Brandon Flowers  completely out of left field. “State of The Nation” was fire stuff, but nothing made me ascend like seeing “Blue Monday” live! The orchestration of alt-rock and EDM transcends all notions of a generational gap. I am awakened… —Alton Barnhart

Friday, May 16

Cardinal Bloom

I was nearly petrified when I turned the corner in the festival parking lot to find hundreds of sweaty Burning Man copycats waiting in the VIP line. One hour early and all I could think was “I’m going to miss Cardinal Bloom.” However, like a lightning strike in my nerves, their set couldn’t sound more crystal clear. Once inside, it was even more energized! Joey St. John’s woofing yawp matched the moody, happy days vibe of this indie rock quartet. Somewhere between the melancholy of Cage The Elephant and the sweetness of Jimmy Eat World, their sound is a tasteful daydream full of springtime enjoyment and summer anticipation. I wouldn’t limit this crew to one genre, however,  tracks like “Under the Oak Tree” extends their musical limbs into an almost honky-tonk roadhouse. This was definitely a good buzz to start the second day of the festival, because these “specialty cocktails” aren’t cutting it. I should’ve duct-taped a smuggled Smirnoff to my leg (John McClane style). —Alton Barnhart

Vagabon

When we did our pre-show interview with Laetitia Tamko, better known as Vagabon, I wasn’t quite sure what kind of umbrella she fit under. Though, I knew I was in good company once she began her sound check.  However, when their set actually began on that overcast Friday, it felt like Tamko and her trench coat henchmen ripped the clouds open. Her silk-like, airy voice soothed the crowd like ice cubes on a freshly-toasted sunburn. Her music has that sad girl electro-rock, tweedling with a grungier side of The Weeknd. Instruments like ambient flutes, maracas and that baby-making,  jazz-immersing sex-aphone like an early ‘90’s Cindy Crawford workout video fill the soundscape. Yet, it’s Tamko’s radio vocals that drown me in an oceancore sway. Just like the obvious display of bra support, nothing will hold back Vagabon from being the tits of electro-rock. —Alton Barnhart

Perfume Genius

Out of all the intoxicating scents floating in the air during Kilby Block Party, Perfume Genius was by far my favorite. Between the notes of festival attendees, plumes of smoke and aromas of excitement, the enchanting notes sung by Michael Hadreas stand out like Chanel No. 2 in a crowd full of flower children. Donning a baby tee by Guess Jeans and a head full of bright ginger hair, Hadreas brings a familiar and comforting presence similar to the emo band frontrunners of the early aughts. With a solid blue background behind him and an orange microphone in front of him, he projects his high-pitched dreams to the audience. The technical feat of exercising one’s voice is more than impressive and it makes the sound completely entrancing. Paired with some moody guitar and disgruntled synths, the juxtaposition is simply ethereal. If the other side is heaven, we must have been the lucky bastards that got the sweet side of hell. —Marzia Thomas

Momma

Like I’ve said previously, Momma’s new record, Welcome to My Blue Sky, has an early lead on becoming my album of the summer. So what better way to kick off the sunny season than by seeing the Brooklyn four-piece perform it live? Fortunately, the sun broke through the oppressive cloud cover shortly before Momma’s show, so it felt like summer for the first time thus far at this year’s KBP. And Momma brought the heat as well, kicking off their set with the new album’s sweltering single, “I Want You (Fever).” As singer Allegra Weingarten promised during our interview last month, the set was mostly comprised of songs from the new record, like “Rodeo” and “Bottle Blonde,” but I was happy to also hear a healthy mix of their older, more grungy stuff, including “Medicine” and “Biohazard.” I know this definitely isn’t the case, but some unhealthy part of my brain headcannoned that they included that last song for me because I told them how much I love it during our interview. Anyway, as someone who saw Momma at KBP 4 in 2023, I can say they just keep getting better and better. Summer has officially kicked off. —Joe Roberts

hey, nothing

In times as prominent as these, it’s always good to get back to basics. Hailing from the city that brought you The Walking Dead and boardwalk gambling comes hey, nothing — a Midwest emo folk group that put on one hell of a show! The soul-crushing voice of bandmates Tyler Mabry and Harlow Phillips shook the Mountain Stage with thunderous howls and angsty turmoil. I had no idea who this band was before sitting down in the high level of the arena, but I knew they were bound for greatness when one of their background graphics was the guitar episode of How It’s Made. The acoustics and snares were crunchy. Their charisma was un-cancellable and homegrown. And for me, it’s refreshing to see a music festival set treated like an open basement show, with dueling guitars and bodies clattering in the mosh pit. Their music was healing in two different ways: One was playing “i haunt ur dreams” while icing off my Chaff-er Sutherland on my “lost boys,” and the other was crying uncontrollably in the driver seat at 3:30 a.m. blasting “The Sink.” You guys better come back! —Alton Barnhart

Car Seat Headrest

It’s always fun to see a band’s fanbase come together for a live show, especially when they tend to be chronically online. I felt like I was discovering secret fans of Car Seat Headrest while looking around the crowd, outing them for their midwest emo sins. With the recent release of their album, The Scholars, there is much new material for the band to play around with during this performance. Ever since the drop of the single, “Gethsemane,” I have been aching to hear it live and it was cathartic to have that moment come to life. The appearance of Will Toledo took me by surprise. With the voice of a sage soothsayer I did not expect him to look so wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. Although, that’s an observation based mainly on vibes because he was wearing a mask (medical, not fur) that covered most of his face. He also wore some prayer beads that I imagine were whispering psychic secrets of how to move an audience to tears. My main critique is that the set was missing some key tracks that fans may have wanted to hear. Personally, I was missing “Cute Thing” and “High to Death.” They say no body no crime, but no “Bodys”?! That should be a fucking felony. —Marzia Thomas

Slowdive

I have listened to Slowdive’s discography front-to-back many times, but I’ve never felt that I’ve gained a firm handle on it. Their patently chasmic sound is just a little too elusive and dynamic to pin down, like a neat bug in your mind’s display case. Far from being a detriment, though, this makes Slowdive an eternal well of inspiration and novelty. I hear something new and surprising every time I sit down with a Slowdive record, even one I’ve listened to 15 times. This proved doubly true for Slowdive’s live set on Friday. As the sun set and the band played well-worn staples like “Alison” and “Sugar for the Pill,” Rachel Goswell‘s soaring melodies, Nick Chaplin‘s bone-bullying basslines and the cosmic shimmer of all three guitarists came through with more texture and presence than even the best recordings can capture, making each song feel like a fresh revelation. Throughout the whole set I felt like I was listening to the best band in shoegaze for the very first time all over again. —Joe Roberts

Youth Lagoon

Trevor Powers made me cry at this set. It wasn’t the first time I’ve shed a tear to a Youth Lagoon song, but letting it out on a drive home is much different than in a crowd of thousands. Kilby Block Party marked the end of a two month tour and, along with the sunset as a background, the set felt like a perfect way to tie up the night and the tour. His falsetto set against clips from Power’s childhood VHS tapes from his newest record Rarely Do I Dream is cutting, haunting and healing all at once. And while some took the time to see the newly reunited Rilo Kiley, I personally feel that Youth Lagoon delivered the best set of the day. After wailing on a mostly instrumental final track, Powers left the audience with a clip of his father talking to a very young version of him and left me longing to call my parents to thank them for all they’ve done for me. —wphughes

Beach House

Live shows this large always remind me of a spiritual practice. In the most secular way possible, I could not feel closer to God if I tried. Something about being in a crowd full of people who adore a band always makes me feel incredibly sentimental. I start to think about the ways the music has affected everyone individually. You can tell when someone’s favorite song starts playing by their excited shrieks and see the way the lyrics resonate with them while they lip sync. I’ve been fortunate enough to deconstruct religion with some of the best friends in the world, and I got to hold their hands while listening to a song that helped me do just that. The first time I had heard “Space Song,” I immediately broke into tears because of how beautiful it was. It played throughout the background of my adolescence as I grew out of restrictive beliefs and into myself. Beach House does a really good job of reminding you of every good and bad memory you’ve ever had all at once. I always feel like I’m watching a montage of my own coming of age while listening to their music. During this set I was particularly reminiscent while “Silver Soul,” “Master of None,” and “Wildflower,” played. The set design itself was breathtaking, the soft strobe lights and wide range of colors mixed with the monotone screens displaying Victoria Legrand’s luscious locks looming over her organ. The screen played videos of stars in the sky, a mysterious femme eyeball looking around and fire burning bright. The show melted together in a kaleidoscopic, psychedelic viewing experience that transports the onlooker to the inside of a personally nostalgic zoetrope. —Marzia Thomas

Saturday, May 17

Over Under

The three-day hump of Kilby Block Party is a steep hill to get over. Those who aren’t rubbing Icy Hot on their shin splints or face down in the porcelain throne from a bad Beach House ketamine experiment are haphazardly staggering back to the fairgrounds once more. So maybe having hometown band Over Under queue up the festival is nurturing. Over Under is the Hawaiian button-up of the local music scene — classic, casual and perfect for brunch time. Their nearly surf-rock sound crashes tidal waves of shoegaze harmony. Gooey guitar melts with pitter-patter percussion as it eases you in for relaxation. What made their set memorable was the five military helicopters overhead, like war and peace clashing during a protest. They got their head-bobbers in a row, but those who could barely plant their feet were able to enjoy them while sitting in the stands. Which is exactly what I did, reclining a stadium seat back, closing my eyes and manifesting the sandy shores of Southern California. God, I need a vacation. —Alton Barnhart

Barrie

Barrie is the only band whose set I’ve attended this KBP without any prior familiarity. On the train ride in today, I got to chatting with the people beside me. It turns out they’re in a genre-bending rock band from California called From Flowers to Flies (give them a listen). They said that Barrie was the day’s first show they were excited to catch, so I took it as a tip from the universe to check out something I might be sleeping on. I wasn’t disappointed. I love dreamy, indie-rock bands like Alvvays and Japanese Breakfast. Luckily, Barrie’s live performance was right along those pleasantly melancholy lines. I was particularly impressed by the bassist, who grounded the airy synths and tender vocals with gut-rumbling chugs on a violin-shaped bass, like the one Paul McCartney plays. A nice woman in a Radiohead shirt who stood next to me throughout the set informed me that my favorite song from the performance is called “Darjeeling.” It’s now on my KBP 6 playlist. The two morals of this story are: talk to strangers and see more bands you don’t know. That’s what festivals like this are really for, and you’re only ever one killer show away from discovering a new favorite. —Joe Roberts

Jelani Aryeh

I’ve had my eye on Aryeh since I first heard his big hit “Stella Brown,” so it’s no surprise that I made a direct beeline to his set. Needless to say, he did not disappoint. I may be biased because I am a sucker for the softer side of indie rock, but my god was the performance hypnotizing. His voice was so full, yet you could feel the hesitancy described in the lyrics of songs like “Daunt.” It was clear from how he moved about that he knew how to command attention and his majestic hair flowing in the wind definitely helped. A definite highlight was seeing his guitarist go full-throttle during his solos with an immense intensity. The best way to describe the experience would be as an energetic, head-bopping good time. Listening to him perform “Marigold” felt like a smooth, rhythmic, wave washing over the crowd as they swayed and clapped along. Aryeh mentioned that this was the largest crowd he has played for and I couldn’t help but feel so much joy for him. It was as if he was finally seeing the results of his labor and talent. Here’s hoping his crowds get bigger and bigger, and we get even more of his dreamy vocals. —Angela Garcia

SASAMI

From the looks of the mosh pit, one may have thought that SASAMI was closing out the night at 10:00 pm. Joined only by her drummer Diego Patino, whose relentless double-kick whipped the audience into a frenzy, SASAMI brought rabid, feral energy to the Desert Stage in the early afternoon. “Are there any freaks in the crowd?” she screamed to a resounding cheer. In a white two-piece complete with lacy arm warmers, she effortlessly metamorphosed from head banging industrial beast to charming pop angel and back again. After disappearing from the stage, SASAMI returned with a ribboned French horn to deliver a dramatic solo, diving right into “In Love With A Memory” from her newest album Blood on the Silver Screen. It was a markedly different performance than when I saw her her gnashing, howling opening set on tour with Mitski, promoting her 2022 nu metal project Squeeze, but it was hypnotizing nonetheless. She closed out with “Slugger,” hitting the ball right out of the park and into the hands of every Cancer in the crowd. —Asha Pruitt

Panda Bear

Avant-garde pop is a genre that pulls me in like no other and no one does it better than Animal Collective. The only actual creature-named member and frontman, Panda Bear graced the main stage of Kilby Block while the grey clouds hung in the sky today. His contrasting colorful visuals on the screen behind him enlightened the audience to the aural qualities he produces, sugared and light-filled. I hear a bit of everything in his music, a bit of surf rock here and some electronica there. His latest release, Sinister Grift, is a project that could have been produced in an ancient time far from the modern psyche. Yet it still feels so inventive, which is hard to pull off when the overarching sound is purely peaceful. It is impressive that he could recreate this composition onstage with solely instruments considering how digitally intricate it sounds on streaming. The outcome feels like the show was played by a solemn, knowing monk who gained access to a guitar and synthesizer. The only way the set could have been better would be if he brought out Dean Blunt to play “9” with him. —Marzia Thomas

Black Country, New Road

Many bands defy genre, but few smash them like a tin can and throw them all out the window like Black Country, New Road: To call their music “experimental” and their musical evolution “unconventional” would be an enormous understatement. The six-piece group with three vocalists traded around saxophone, keys, banjo, flute, bass, mandolin, drums, violin and guitar (both acoustic and electric, sometimes played as a slide or with a bow) like musical chairs, have a sound that rises and falls in unpredictable waves. Having permanently retired their first two albums from live shows, the band has embarked on a new chapter with the April release of Forever Howlong, and I was anxious to witness this transition in real time. But Tyler Hyde’s elegant voice and May Kershaw’s intense scales made me forget all about Ants from Up There. From the booming overture “Besties” to the haunting lullaby “Turbines/Pigs,” it was easily the least danceable set of the festival, but the most satisfyingly harmonious. —Asha Pruitt

I Dont Know How But They Found Me

I cannot overstate just how excited I was to finally see I Dont Know How But They Found Me (iDKHow for short) live. I first became aware of them when I found out about frontman, Dallon Weekes’ heavy involvement in one of my favorite Panic! at the Disco albums, Too Weird to Live, Too Rare to Die! Wanting more of the quirky, electronic, synthy sound he gave that album I looked into his other projects and discovered iDKHow. One thing I can say, he was definitely holding back on the quirkiness while in Panic! It’s always nice to see artists fully express their idiosyncrasies and create projects that are completely theirs. As their performance began you could feel the crowd erupt with excitement, and when “Clusterhug” started I actually jumped out of my seat and ran down to the pit to fully experience it. His strong vocals came in clutch and I was left stunned by Weekes’ vocal range. The intense intro of “DOWNSIDE”grabbed my full attention and I was entranced as I sang along to the chorus. Easily, the most memorable part of the set was the return of The Brobecks, Weekes’ first band. The highlight was when they performed their least listened-to song, “A Letter,” from their 2005 album Happiest Nuclear Winter, which they remastered and re-released in January. The song was also added to their newest album, GLOOM DIVISION. While the verses were spoken word, Weekes managed to keep the audience engaged by having them harmonize and perform the chorus with him.  It’s always a hit or miss when artists incorporate audience participation. Thankfully, Weekes gave us timely cues and just the right amount to work with. Seeing iDKHow live, you truly get a sense of how much passion was put into this project. I can’t wait and see what comes next for this SLC based sensation, and may they continue to pour those electric eccentricities into their work. —Angela Garcia

St. Vincent

At a festival chock-full of bucket list shows for me, none was a higher priority than St. Vincent. I started listening to her in 2014 after she released her self-titled fifth album. Her electric guitar virtuosity (she’s one of rock and roll’s best living guitarists), incisive lyricism and voice that walks the line between angelic and orgasmic quickly made her a favorite of mine. So I wasted no time diving into her already extensive backlog. In the 10+ years since, she’s put out a handful of new records, and 2024’s All Born Screaming is one of the coolest and most visceral things she’s ever made. She kicked off her set on Saturday by gesticulating through the record’s explosive single, “Broken Man.” She mostly favored the last decade of her work throughout the night, but she did throw in a few older songs, like “Marrow” and “Cheerleader.” The best part of the show — and maybe the entire festival — was during “New York” when she got off the stage to goofball through the crowd, foregoing the lyrics to efface herself, steal people’s hats and compliment the cuties in the audience. She initiated this intimate segment by expressing how lucky she felt to be in Salt Lake City with all of us, as if we aren’t all lucky to have been born (screaming) within the same geological epoch as this manifestation of divinity. —Joe Roberts

Gang of Four

Let’s be incendiary — Gang of Four put together the best set of this festival. Did I see every set? No, but I don’t need to because I saw the best one. Their ‘70s post-punk outfits ripped through the crowd in a way only they could, and did for their final time. The current line up of Jon King (vocals), Hugo Burnham (drums), Gail Greenwood (bass) and Ted Leo (guitar) only contains two original members, including Burnham, who wailed through the set all while requiring a crutch to walk. A beyond perfect performance of the band’s biggest hits off of 1979’s Entertainment! and 1981’s Solid Gold, the crowd put on a better show than they have for any other band, with endless crowd surfing, moshing and some impeccable skanking. King got a workout in beating the shit out of a microwave with a red baseball bat (potentially the same bat Youth Lagoon grabbed at the end of his set). Many have their bucket list shows, but Gang of Four is truly a once in a lifetime experience. I pity all those will never get the chance to hear “Damaged Goods” or “Paralysed” live. —wphughes

Wallows

As an indie-loving schmuck, I have been dying to see Wallows live for years. I feel like it was a universal experience for music lovers in my age group to find out that Dylan Minnette was a part of the band and grow to love them even more. “The cute guy from 13 Reasons Why sings? Holy shit! He can really belt.” A bit of a Djo effect there, who doesn’t love multi-talented people? These guys would have killed it in the ‘60s, imagine if The Beatles were actually sexy and one of them was a popular actor. In any case, I truly believe that their sound is incredibly influential to the soft-rock boy band of the mid-to-late 2010s. And boy can they perform. With bubbles floating in the air and a bright neon sign above, they are just so fun to watch as they toss around the music. During “Quarterback,” the members switched instruments as Cole Preston played guitar and Minnette hopped on the drums. Then they played “These Days,” and broke down the bridge by stripping back to solely keys and following it with a big guitar solo and beat drop. They did a good job at engaging the crowd — my personal favorite moment is when they cut the sound during “Pleaser” at the lyrics “silence is what I do best” so that we could sing them. They also called us out for being a boring audience by saying, “Everyone’s really nodding their heads, it must be something in the lake.” It’s no coincidence that after that we were not shy to dance at all. —Marzia Thomas

Weezer

Authenticity is dead, and an unabashed commitment to the bit is back. After 30 years of The Blue Album, Weezer proved that they are still the same bunch of nerds they were back in 1994 by taking us on a theatrical journey aboard the Betsy 2.0 rocket ship, across the “Island in the Sun,” through the Pinkerton asteroid belt and finally to the legendary blue planet, playing all 10 songs in order. Rivers Cuomo stuck largely to the script of his rock opera — save for a shoutout to Red Iguana during “Undone (The Sweater Song)” — and paused for battle cutscenes with the alien Bokkus, whose history I admittedly learned about from weezerpedia.com. Rather than coming off as a gimmick, it was an endearing tribute to the best garage rock album of the ‘90s, beloved by multiple generations of Weezeroids. Though I feared that some were only there to ironically cheer for a band that has been memed to death, I was pleasantly surprised by how many people sang along to “Only in Dreams” with heartfelt admiration. One small step for man, one giant leap for Weezerkind! —Asha Pruitt

Sunday, May 18

Elowyn

2025 was not Elowyn LaPointe’s first year playing Kilby Block Party, though it was her first festival performance as the frontwoman of her own band. Having played bass with artists like Fonteyn for years, Elowyn is finally letting her electrifying voice shine on its own (while still playing bass, mind you). Through the pouring rain, she looked radiant in her red poncho, white cowboy boots and the same mint green bass guitar that graces multiple single covers. Her presence was spellbinding on “Her Name was Molly,” a song about “doing drugs and falling in love with your friends.” Though psychedelic rock is the most concise way to describe her music, a certain country twang weaved its way through her sound — especially on her most recent release, the breakup song “Gone.” “Was our love not quite the way that people used to say it was?” she mourned as her two backup vocalists echoed on, “Say it was!” —Asha Pruitt

Walt Disco

I’m writing this from inside the driest Honey Bucket — not out of bodily impulses, but for survival. We were deep in the barracks on the final day of KBP. My soaked sneakers filtered that tangy stench of trench foot as I collapsed at the front steps of the VIP lounge. That’s when I heard it — the Scottish invasion of a small militia known as Walt Disco. This alt-pop crew of ramblers spat a heavy barrage of super-sick licks and vocals closely resembling The Dare or even Ziggy Stardust. The five dressed-to-the-nines bandmates put the “art” in “party” with their outlandish theatrics and flamboyant blasts, like I’m watching a production prequel to Phantom of the Paradise. All of their devilish charm is lethal once ingested, and under the guise of the wettest sets I’ve ever seen, you’re bound to catch a biological warfare of earworms! If I don’t make it out of here alive, send my warmest sympathy and best regards to my love — TV Girl’s big-titted, blowup Renamon. I think she’s still in George Clanton’s tour bus, that little rascal! —Alton Barnhart

Orla Gartland

Despite the rain and wind, Orla Gartland and her band cut through the crowd with her electric vocals. I wasn’t familiar with Gartland until her surprise guest spot was announced by Kilby. After seeing her stand-out image of her baring her teeth, hair blown back by a strong wind, I knew I had to check her out. To me, she stands as a mix of very clever indie pop and samples from the more iconic extravagant vocalists of our time like David Byrne or Mark Mothersbaugh. These more “out-there” elements shine through when she skips down stage, guitar in hand or bends the mic stand down to her knees to let out a growl-turned-yell into the chorus. And not to insert a FFO, but truly there is a spot for Gartland on any of your playlists, especially if she ends up posting the cover of “Red Wine Supernova” she performed today. —wphughes

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart

Earlier this week at In-N-Out after the Magdalena Bay show, I was asked what my fursona would be. I was thinking cat or fawn, but the inquirer told me she believed I was a lamb. So as a vetted pure-at-heart, I’m happy to report that this performance was absolutely delightful. Right when the rain started to clear up to reveal a big, beautiful, blue sky and the patrons started shedding their ghost-like waterproof ponchos, the bubble-noise began. Now, I’m no stranger to twee. I adore polka dots, bangs and a bird on a random item. So the shoe-gazey, archival indie pop is right in my wheelhouse, and I could have bounced around to them for the rest of my time at Kilby and I truly been happy. I was able to get some shots of the set on my old-but-new-to-me digital camera and that just felt too right — I do love a cliché. From the ambiguously European accented singer from New York to the perfect combination of grunge reverb and playful chimes, these guys do hit every note right. —Marzia Thomas

Tennis

After getting the chance to have a conversation with one half of Tennis, Alaina Moore, I felt very touched by the story of this couple who created a life out of making music together. À la Tom Tom Club or The White Stripes, the band is made up of a married couple. Shortly after getting hitched, the duo began their musical project not knowing how far it would take them. The two take regular boating trips spanning from six months to a year as a creative ritual while making each album, which is apparent when you listen. It truly only could have been thought up far away from general society, with your loved one surrounded by crystal clear waters. You could just float in the body of their new-new wave soft rock, letting the soundwaves ripple around you. I’ve been refraining from describing every artists’ outfit, but I feel like it’s necessary in this case because of how impeccably dressed these two were and how much it reveals about their aural atmosphere. Moore wore a gray crewneck sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up, a pleated knee length skirt and knee length socks with bows on the side. Of course she also had her voluminous coily curls surrounding her head like a halo, the cherry on top of this ‘80s look. Patrick Riley had his familiar blonde bowl cut that radiates retro energy. he was wearing a cream-colored fisherman’s sweater (very fitting) and wailing on a multi-colored bedazzled guitar. Maybe ladies don’t, but they absolutely should play that guitar. It’s too good to keep out of their hands. –Marzia Thomas

Suki Waterhouse

There are few shows that I would go up to the barricade for, willingly. I once camped out for Conan Gray at 4:00 a.m. to only be in the tenth row back at The Union and I was front row at Dayglow last year at KBP 5. However, it seemed like a no brainer for the gracious and lovely Miss Suki Waterhouse. The show started with an eclectic and charming intro video covered in pasted images of Waterhouse’s childhood memories and sparkle muffins crawling all over the screen. As much as I love the DIY mindset represented in musicians’ work, there is something so satisfying about seeing a highly curated pop persona with a huge team behind their projects. You can see all the visual pieces of the many people it takes to put on a complex show like this come together. Being so close to the stage, I could see the dazzlingly talented band accompanying Suki: drummer Emilia Paige, bassist Myqle “Motorcycle” Sanford and guitarist Jane Noise. I could also feel the reverb of the speakers throughout my entire body, it was like being wrapped into a lacy cocoon of vibration. Suki was the exquisite vision of a contemporary charting starlet with the voice of a mid-century crooner, waving her arms out like a fallen angel and catching herself with her choreography. She somehow made “My Fun,” even more entertaining to listen to and all of us wistfully fantasized during “Dream Woman.” Before she announced the last song she pointed out to a very handsome young man, my friend Jake, and called him a “Good Looking” boy. The last sunny day of Kilby Block Party was blessed by this divine glitter-rock singer and her kind compliments to the crowd. –Marzia Thomas

Geese

For those of you that came to Geese through lead vocalist Cameron Winter’s solo album Heavy Metal, which released late last year — welcome, you’re late. Geese occupies a space somewhere in between the sweat stains on a white shirt to the love letter from your first real romance. Post-punk, alt-country, etc etc, just know the band rips in ten different ways. The short set never slowed for a second and highlighted how technically skilled the band is and how willing they are to sacrifice that for chaos. Winter’s signature semi-baritone warbling still peaked through the blistering wall of sound that Geese can so easily flow in and out of. And when you begin to think Winter and the rest are just another NYC post-punk outfit, they’ll draw you back in with a heart wrenching acoustic heartbreak track. Indomitable, irrational and irresistible, what’s not to love? —wphughes

TV On The Radio

As a music journalist, you sometimes get assigned to cover a band that you don’t know, and it turns out to be a happy accident that rocks your world. It is embarrassing to admit my unfamiliarity with this somewhere-in-between-indie-and-mainstream group whose most popular song was released in 2006, but music festivals are my favorite way to discover new music, especially over Spotify-generated playlists or even friend recommendations. It was nearing the end of KBP 6 and I had mud-caked boots, wet cigarettes and shooting lower back pain, but the first few notes of TV On The Radio against the backdrop of a glowing pink sunset brought me back to life. I love a good horn in a rock band, and Dave “Smoota” Smith’s smooth trombone added a layer of funk to their eclectic sound. “These guys rip,” I told my friend. “Just wait,” she said, just before Tunde Adebimpe seemingly heard her and replied, “It’s time.” “Wolf Like Me” tore through the crowd as kaleidoscopic visuals tunneled through my brain, burning the band into my memory. —Asha Pruitt

Justice

To address Justice directly: I had no idea. I, like many of you, was kicking up the mud soaked wood chips with a few friends debating how much longer we could stand to be out in the cold. Day four of a festival featuring 80+ bands can get you down and have you questioning if a band like Justice is worth the price of admission. It is, don’t get it twisted. There’s something undeniably cool about Gaspard Augé and Xavier de Rosnay, especially their steely pose as they put together a truly thrilling show. At times it felt as though everyone at the festival was moving, save for them — like electric gods amongst men. The staging earned the pre-show epilepsy warning with multiple hanging lighting rigs that were staged extremely intricately to match each beat and tone. At times the rigs went so low they covered the group entirely in a wall of light. And once you had your fill of swinging, strobing and blaring lights, the screen would cut back to Augé and Rosnay, still in their same stoic positions, plotting on how to blow your mind next. —wphughes

Check out more coverage of Kilby Block Party 6:
Photo Gallery: Kilby Block Party 6 @ Utah State Fairpark
SLUG Style: Kilby Block Party 6