LUCY DACUS TURNS THE GREEK INTO A CATHEDRAL OF FEELS WITH TWO NIGHTS OF EMOTIONAL RELEASE
Kicking off the first of two sold-out nights at Los Angeles’s Greek Theatre—with support from jasmine.4.t and Katie Gavin—Lucy Dacus delivered the kind of catharsis that’s become her trademark. Nestled into a brisk spring evening in Griffith Park, the setting was perfect for the raw, emotional communion that unfolded. The chill in the air may have prompted some goosebumps, but let’s be real—most of them came courtesy of Lucy’s voice and lyrics.
From the moment she took the stage, Dacus held the audience in a suspended state of tenderness and anticipation. Whether it was the aching crescendo of “Night Shift,” the introspective melancholy of “Nonbeliever,” or the soft sincerity of “True Blue,” each song hit like a wave of collective emotion. Honestly, you could just list the entire setlist, and it would read like a guided meditation through heartbreak, healing, and human connection.
Lucy’s songwriting is sharp yet unpretentious—deeply personal lyrics without ever veering into self-indulgence. As she noted during an acoustic portion of the set, she’s been crafting these songs for over half her life, and it shows. There's a craftsmanship to her performance, but more importantly, there’s trust—between artist and audience, between story and listener.
A standout moment came when Dacus was joined by Los Angeles native Madison Cunningham for a gorgeous rendition of “Bullseye,” their harmonies floating out over the hillside like smoke from a campfire. Later, the emotional energy reached its peak during “Best Guess,” when fans throughout the amphitheater lit up their phone flashlights through colored paper, casting a massive, glowing rainbow across a sea of more than 5,000 people. Dacus, visibly moved, seemed on the verge of tears herself—a moment of reciprocity from a crowd that had spent the night happily awash in them.
Whether performing tracks from her freshly released Forever Is a Feeling or revisiting fan favorites from Home Video, Historian, or No Burden, Dacus kept the crowd rapt. People sang every word, leaned on friends, swayed, sobbed, smiled—and maybe walked away a little lighter than when they arrived.
