MUNA Gets So Hot at Roadrunner
Last week, MUNA thrilled audiences at a pair of sold-out back-to-back shows at Roadrunner on the North American leg of their “Gets So Hot” tour.
The tour kicked off just a few weeks ago, and the band’s exceptional Boston performances highlight the continuous evolution of their craft; this version of MUNA is unflinching and visceral. Before they took the stage, house lights dimmed, smoke billowed from all directions, and recorded risers queued anticipatory cheers. The venue vibrated when members of the trio cinematically entered the stage between puffs of smoke, illuminated by strobe lights.
“Fuck the president. Fuck the rapists from Cornell. And, yeah. Fuck imperialism, free Palestine.”
The audience erupted. These were the words of MUNA’s Naomi McPherson before the band performed “Big Stick”, a track from their latest album: Dancing on the Wall. Heavy drums in the foreground reflected the intensity of lyrics that discuss the cruelties of state-funded genocide. Amid a smoke-filled stage, lights flashed red and green throughout the venue as lead singer Katie Gavin used her mic stand as a prop weapon, lifting it above her head as she sang.
Concertgoers donned a variety of attire, ranging from band merchandise to latex chaps. In the sea of sparkles, fishnets, berets, and belts-that-were-once-scarves, the common denominator among the outfits was the essence of personal identity each individual exuded. Self-expression at the show was certainly not limited to attire; fans were dancing, singing, swaying, clapping to the beat of the drums- everyone was simply happy to experience the moment.
The experience for concertgoers was nothing short of cathartic. At one point, Josette Maskin jumped off the stage and ripped a guitar solo standing on the barricade. During “Anything But Me,” the band provided an inflatable horse for the crowd to pass around, as both a nod to the song’s lyrics and a MUNA concert tradition.
When Gavin experienced a wardrobe malfunction and left the stage for a brief moment, Maskin announced, “This is a human show. Human things happen at the human show.” The honest moment echoed the authenticity present throughout the band’s performance, a breath of fresh air in our contemporary environment of commercialized slop. MUNA conversed with the audience between their acoustic and electric sets, discussing their retired podcast and responding to messages on handmade posters.
For the intimate acoustic set, supporting band members exited, and the three bandmates sat on stools at the center of the stage dimly lit by spotlights. The band continuously thanked the audience, Gavin endearingly calling fans her babies. “We love you babies so much,” she told the audience throughout the show, and the reciprocal love was palpable.
Cultivated through years of dedication, MUNA’s performance was a brilliant showcase of craft and a celebration of communal joy. Advocating for the queer community, among various marginalized groups globally, the heart of MUNA’s artistry lies in their integrity. How refreshing to see a band in immaculate form, championing the voiceless, remaining ferocious in their beliefs, while still profoundly grateful for their supporters.
