Los Angeles, California - October 29, 2026
Nothing beats going to a Slow Pulp show to pregame Halloweekend. Last Thursday night, the band took the stage at The Wiltern in Los Angeles to debut songs from their third studio album, Melodie. After a three-year hiatus since their last project, Yard, the band returns with a record that leans into years of friendship, growing pains, and introspection they haven’t fully embraced until now. Melodie is frankly Slow Pulp at their best –– synchronized, eloquent, and punchy. Taking it to the stage would be the next step, but performing was never an afterthought. Being a live band is arguably where their guitar-forward DNA thrives most, and why their music translates so easily in front of a crowd.
Emily Massey (lead singer, guitarist), Henry Stoehr (guitarist), Teddy Matthews (drummer), and Alex Leeds (bassist) would step out exuding palpable synergy before even picking up an instrument or singing the first note. It’s no surprise when the opening punches of “Better Man” arrive with the demanding force of smacking guitars and pummeling drums as Massey’s vocals sharpen at its initial cutting question: “Did I fuck it up again? / Maybe leave it to a better man / Who can tell himself, "This is how it's supposed to be."
A well-knit set welcomes the night with crowd-pleasers from every album, each track controlling the room’s temperature. “Spill” and “These Days” spiral with self-assessing questions and droning guitars while high-energy songs like “Cramps” and “Steel Birds” put their ‘90s alt-rock influences on full display. Under a circular formation of towering stage lights, the band stands in the center like a unified front, a sentiment that bleeds into the show’s dynamic ebb and flow. Anchored by a long history of chemistry, every instrument seamlessly intertwines with one another while also taking moments to pull back and let the other take the forefront. For “Like Me,” a throughline of Stoehr’s crackling guitar guides Massey’s raspier notes as she unravels her inner monologue, whereas airier chords in “Yellow and Green,” the love letter to the band and their hometown, uplift her more hushed vocals from the sidelines.
Massey steps into the frontman role without any ounce of superiority over the rest of her bandmates, but you can tell her commanding elegance is a quality that comes naturally as a performer. She’ll pick up the microphone for tracks like “At It Again” and “Falling Apart,” pointing it towards the audience, who immediately sing the words right back to her, but then effortlessly trade it for a guitar to steer the rushing tempo in “Melodie.”
For most of the night, silhouettes of each member stand like mystical figures behind pulsating hues of reds and blues that interchange throughout the setlist. Washing the stage in scarlet, Massey drops a few registers in “Red Car” to confide about the desire to flee her relationship over guitars that mimic a revving Mazda engine: “So just fill up and leave me here / I'll get out and disappear.” “MUD” flips the script, replacing apathy with full-fledged desire. This time, she’s draped in a deep blue light, striking each falsetto with fiery verve: “Gettin’ older but I still play pretend / I don’t want this to end.”
“Slip Away” closes out the night as an homage to the special partnership between Massey and Stoehr, who helmed the songwriting for Melodie. They’ll reappear for the encore with just Stoehr’s acoustic guitar and Massey in the spotlight. Delicate yet gritty, tempting with the urge to retreat yet dripping with hopeful optimism, the band achieves their most notable quality on a live scale: carving out a home for raw emotions to reside.
Amidst flashy stage production and a bigger venue, Slow Pulp is the band from Wisconsin they’ve always been. With a bond as steadfast as theirs and a willingness to tap into tumultuous seasons and embrace them with open arms, every show they play guarantees an incomparable cathartic experience.
