WEDNESDAY TURN RAIN-SOAKED BUFFALO NIGHT INTO A FULL-BLOWN CHURCH REVIVAL
ALL PHOTOS BY TAYLOR RAMBO
The hype around Wednesday is impossible to ignore. The Asheville, NC band has been steadily building momentum over the past few years with their blend of Southern-tinged, punk-infused indie rock. Fronted by the prolific and deeply emotive Karly Hartzman, they’ve become one of the most compelling voices in the scene, with tour dates selling out across the country.
On a rain-soaked Tuesday in Buffalo, NY, I went to see what all the noise was about. The weather didn’t slow anyone down. Fans lined the street and packed into Asbury Hall, an old church-turned-venue with a rustic, almost sacred charm. The wood interiors and worn-in feel brought me right back to DIY show days, shooting in VFW halls and basements. Fitting, too, since there was no barricade. It meant getting right in the mix, dusting off those instincts. The crowd was a mix of leather jackets and cowboy boots, skewing young but spanning generations, all locked into the same anticipation.
Gouge Away opened the night. A familiar name from the Tumblr era, and one I’d been meaning to catch live for years. The crowd took a minute to warm up, but once they did, the shift was obvious. Frontwoman Christina Michelle commanded the stage with a balance of aggression and control, moving through tracks like “Ghost” and “Figurine” with intensity. The band’s heavier moments hit hard, but it was the melodic passages that really cut through. Their set peaked with the crushing breakdown of “The Sharpening,” leaving no doubt they’ve earned the attention they’re finally getting, even if the crowd could’ve pushed back a little harder.
By the time Wednesday took the stage, the room was packed tight. Their setup felt like a curated mess of nostalgia. Old dolls, toy clowns, NASCAR trinkets, Furbies, all scattered across the stage. Behind them, the artwork for Bleeds hung under a wash of purple light. They opened with “Reality TV Argument Bleeds,” a slow build that set the tone perfectly. Hartzman’s voice moved effortlessly between soft, fragile melodies and raw, unfiltered screams.
They front-loaded the set with older tracks like “Got Shocked” and “Hot Rotten Grass Smell” before moving into newer material like “Pick Up The Knife” and “Gary’s II.” Christina Michelle returned to the stage for “Phish Pepsi,” while Hartzman jumped into the crowd during “She’s Actin’ Single, I’m Drinking Doubles,” collapsing any remaining distance between band and audience. It all felt natural, unforced. Like watching your friend’s band in a dive bar, just scaled up.
As the set pushed into its second half, the energy hit another level. “Elderberry Wine” brought a bluegrass-tinged sway before giving way to the heavier punch of “Townies.” The crowd finally broke loose. Dancing, jumping, even a bit of moshing. By the time they closed with “Wasp,” Hartzman was fully unleashed, delivering a vocal performance that felt just as raw and urgent as anything that put them on the map.
Shooting from inside the crowd made the whole night feel more immediate, more personal. Less like documenting a show and more like being part of it. Walking out of that church, there was a real sense that something bigger was happening. Not just a great set, but a band in motion.
