As 2025 grinds to an end, I’ve been doing that annual year-end scroll through my photo albums. In general, I take crummy pictures, and at this point in my life, I mostly snap them to help my memory, which needs jogging as badly as an overweight dog. What follows are moments from this year (of which my crappy pics reminded me) that seemed important in the context of local music, or, if you prefer, here are some thoughts on a dozen shows I attended, organized in order of month.
In January, I went to The Place, a DIY spot opened in late 2024 by Randy Adams Tattoo owner Matt Van Cura. What was formerly the dearly departed Lancaster dive bar the Ozzie Rabbit Lounge was, at the time, reopened for punk markets and other events held by local organizers and promoters like Core 4 Core, which books all-ages punk shows. The one I went to really made me miss the era of my life when I looked forward to a pit breaking out, and over the next nine months, The Place offered both local and touring bands a spot to throw a show. Like everything fun in life, The Place’s run was loud, exciting, and brief — the folks who ran the space announced its permanent closure on September 13. If you have memories of being there, I hope you think about them often.
Kerry Dean
In February, Epic Ruins played The Cicada. If you missed it, Epic Ruins is a proggy hard-rock band I formed in 2009 with Sam Anderson on vocals and guitar; Jordan Richardson on vocals, drums, and guitar; and Jeff Dazey on saxophone, along with a rotating cast of guitar players and keyboardists. As long as the band has existed — we reappear every few years out of a cloud of fog, and sometimes we have lasers — its shows have given me a ton of anxiety, but every time we play our lone nine-song album live, I’m reminded of why I picked up the bass in the first place: It’s a fun way to make some core memories with your friends.
On a Sunday night in March, Lauren “LG” Gilbert, frontwoman for Nashville-based Southern-rock band Thelma & The Sleaze, played a raunchy, stripped-down set at the Boiled Owl Tavern as LG & The Super Soaker Sisters, with Fort Worth singer-songwriter Katie Grace Robertson opening. Robertson had done a tour playing keys with Thelma & The Sleaze, and she put this last-minute SXSW-adjacent show together. I would’ve forgotten about this if I hadn’t saved the flyer — hand-drawn by LG herself — which I appreciated for both its design and quick turnaround time.
The East Fort Worth Community Jazz Band’s concerts are always a lot of fun, and their April 5 Big Band Dance event was no exception. I think the jazz band is a local treasure on which you are probably sleeping. Going to their concerts, usually held at Meadowbrook United Methodist Church, is the kind of wholesome fun that appeals to everyone, and I always get a kick out of watching a stage full of local band teachers and other lifelong musicians having an absolute blast vamping through an hour or so’s worth of the Great American Songbook.
I guess I didn’t go to any show in May, but I had a delightful afternoon at Balqees Coffee in Mansfield on May 12. The ambient music was a melange of lo-fi beats and melancholy oud melodies, and I mentally revisit the hour spent sipping coffee in that environment at least as much as any other show on this list.
June’s show of note for me was the Save The Cicada benefit. The Near Southside venue had fallen behind on rent, and it was uplifting and encouraging to see so many people come out to support the business, as well as the bands who lent their time and music to the cause. Six months later, The Cicada survives, but please, keep showing up to shows, and while you’re at it, stop by for a beer other times as well.
In July, I caught The Dangits and the Me-Thinks at Growl Records in Arlington. The dudes behind Growl’s shows have done a lot to keep the local heavy music scene thriving over the years. The lineup and the crowd brought back a lot of memories of Fort Worth’s hard-rock scene from, like, 15 years ago, and my tinnitus was in full effect for the entire drive home from Arlington.
In August, I got to see my friend Chago play guitar in an instrumental stoner-rock band called Earthwurm. The band is now on indefinite hiatus, but I’m glad I finally got to see him doing one of the things he was put on Earth to do, which is perform psychedelic guitar riffs.
Art by Lauren Gilbert
Local ska/surf/reggae/punk trio Brotherhood played a show in Granbury in September, and while I didn’t go, my friend Kerry did, and he sent me this pic of the drummer setting up. It resonated with me for several reasons, not the least of which is that the band spelled their own name into the shape of a dick. Note to all bands: As soon as you start taking yourself too seriously, the end is near. Brotherhood, who are indeed brothers and now in their 20s, have been playing together since they were in middle school, so, obviously, taking themselves too seriously has never been an issue.
My main show memories from October were of Arts Goggle. I play bass in Son of Stan, and we played the big stage in the Chat Room’s parking lot. While setting up, our lead guitarist, Michael “Doty” Doty, had placed a beer on top of his amplifier head, which I knocked over while trying to navigate a clingy cable situation affecting my bass. The beer spilled over the top of the amp and down the front of the speaker cabinet. We got the loose liquid contained before it ruined anything, but this is a moment of shame I replay while lying awake at night.
In November, I finally saw the Budos Band, and they were everything I’d hoped for — especially seeing bassist Daniel “Grover” Fodor play his ’67 Gibson EB0. What a groovy night that was!
Finally, December’s show of note, detailed in last week’s column, was the Marked Men at Rubber Gloves. I’m still thinking about that one, even without looking at any pictures. Sometimes the mental images are just way better than the ones you capture on your phone.
