Phantogram

Phantogram | October 4, 2025 | Emo’s

Before stepping onto the ACL stage that Sunday, Phantogram played a sold-out Saturday night show at Emo’s. Although I initially went in thinking this would be a warmup for ACL, it was clear from the first drop that this was the one that would stick with people.

No sunshine, no jumbotrons, no curated brand moments. Just strobes, fog, even more fog, and a room that felt more like a warehouse party than a club show. Sarah Barthel closed the night by handing out setlists while dancing to J-Rock’s “Win,” a small gesture that underscored the feeling in the room: This was the real show.

Phantogram have always lived between worlds. Their early records caught a wave in the late bloghouse era and much like their contemporaries their music has always been danceable but moody, polished but murky. They were never fully part of that scene, but enough of their DNA overlaps with it that they’re getting lumped into what’s now being called an “indie sleaze” revival. And to be fair, there’s something to it. Between Passion Pit playing another ACL aftershow, The Rapture recently rolling through town, LCD Soundsystem’s three-night residency earlier this year, and The Faint hitting Emo’s in November, the bookings aren’t random. Emo’s is curating something here that feels surprisingly timely.

Phantogram didn’t need to pivot to feel relevant again. Their setlist leaned into the stuff people came to hear—“Blackout Days,” “Cruel World,” “When I’m Small”—but nothing about the performance yelled “legacy act”.  It was loud, lean, and fully engaged. There were no “remember us?” moments. Just a band moving through a catalog that still hits because it never tried to chase a moment in the first place.

There's been a lot of noise lately about the indie-dance crossover sound having a second life. The Dare is being called the poster child of the new wave, Charli XCX is dragging electroclash back into the mainstream, and even bloghouse is getting name-dropped unironically. But on Friday night, Phantogram didn’t feel like part of a trend or a TikTok reference. They just felt sharp. Still weird. Still cool. Still theirs.

Words and photos: Victor Gonzalez