BARRY CAN’T SWIM TURNS THE SHRINE INTO A SYNTH-SOAKED, JAZZ-HOUSE FEVER DREAM

May 6

It was one of those rare L.A. nights where everything felt aligned—the weather was perfect, the crowd was buzzing, and the Shrine Auditorium transformed into a full-blown temple of rhythm and light. Barry Can’t Swim, the moniker of Scottish producer Joshua Mainnie, rolled into town and turned the venue into a swirling mass of movement, melody, and euphoria.

Initially slated for one night only, demand skyrocketed, and a second show was quickly added. And still, both nights were packed. When the doors opened, the crowd was ready to lose themselves. From industry heads to diehard fans, everyone there seemed to know they were about to witness something special.

As red lights bathed the room in a heartbeat-like glow, Mainnie took the stage with quiet confidence, letting the music speak louder than any words could. What followed was more than just a set—it was a full-body experience. The speakers didn’t just play the music; they translated it into muscle and bone. Vibrations ran through the floor and into the feet of hundreds, possibly thousands, who couldn’t stop dancing even if they tried.

Visually, the show was stunning. A hypnotic blend of lasers, swirling visuals, and warm, ambient lighting that felt more like an immersive art installation than a club night. Every beat drop was punctuated by visuals that seemed to ripple with the crowd's collective energy.

But it wasn’t just the production value that made the night unforgettable. What truly set the performance apart was Barry Can’t Swim’s seamless fusion of organic instruments with electronic landscapes. It’s not every day you hear piano, saxophone, and soul-soaked vocals weaving their way through house beats and garage grooves. This wasn’t some pre-recorded DJ set phoned in from a USB stick—this was alive.

One of the evening’s most transcendent moments came during the performance of “How It Feels.” The song hit like a shared memory, with the crowd singing along, arms raised, swaying together in what felt like some sort of emotional collective exhale. It wasn’t just dancing—it was release.

And then came the surprise: Mainnie gave L.A. a taste of what’s next, previewing material from his upcoming album Loner, due out this summer. The new tracks showcased a more introspective tone without losing the irresistible grooves he’s known for. If the reaction from the Shrine audience is any indication, Loner is about to land with impact.

As the night wound down, there was a bittersweet energy in the air. This was the final stop on Barry Can’t Swim’s North American tour—a victory lap of sorts. But instead of coasting, he brought everything he had, leaving a sonic fingerprint on the Shrine and earning every last cheer from a crowd that didn’t want it to end.

Barry Can’t Swim didn’t just play a show in Los Angeles—he threw a party, orchestrated a catharsis, and reminded a city of constant motion to stop, feel, and dance. And that? That’s unforgettable.