LIVE REVIEW: Caamp in Boston, MA (06.14.25)
The crowd was a sea of flat-brimmed hats and double denim at Fenway’s MGM Music Hall this past Saturday, as fans waited for Caamp to take the stage. Who would have thought a folk band from Ohio could draw so many Bostonians away from a Saturday Red Sox-Yankees game? Jerseys were shed for flannels, bats for banjos. But when Caamp played the last chord of their show and the room echoed with calls for an encore, I certainly wasn’t thinking about baseball.
Founded by childhood friends Taylor Meier (lead vocalist) and Evan Westfall (multi-instrumentalist) during their time at Ohio University, Caamp has expanded its influence far beyond Appalachia in the last decade. During that time, the band itself has also grown, with Matt Vinson on bass, Joe Kavalec on keys, and Nicholas Falk on drums. Their fifth studio album, Copper Changes Color, dropped this month, and their Live & In-Concert US Tour began in late May. The band has curated a signature sound that falls at the intersection of folk and rock, often tinged with midwestern melancholy. Saturday marked Caamp’s first return to the Boston stage since 2022.
The rich sound of opener Whitney, a six-piece band from Chicago, still lingered as the audience began to buzz with anticipation. The minutes between the end of the opening set and start of the next stretched like time suspended between two musical ideas. A mix of indie pop and rock played over the speakers. Finally, the lights dimmed, and the crowd erupted as Caamp sauntered onto the stage wearing baggy shirts and jeans. Frontman Meier was the exception to this dress code, sporting a purple jacket and sunglasses, which he kept on throughout the entire show. Without ceremony, the band locked eyes and began playing “Millions,” the opening banjo-rock track of their newest album.
The stage set brought us back in time. A vintage reading light perched on the piano. Draped red and orange curtains rose behind the band, and warm light washed over them, transforming the stage into a retro vision of a 70s recording studio. As the banjo-fronted bluegrass stomp of “There She Goes” began, the lighting shifted behind the band, obscuring their features into silhouettes. This effect turned their performance into a time capsule, like it was their folk predecessors on the stage instead of them. Paired with this amber lighting, the upbeat rhythm and candor of Westfall’s vocals felt like an unapologetic homage to the aesthetics of old-school Americana. In an egoless moment, they were vessels for a greater musical tradition.
Caamp demonstrated their versatility through the diversity of songs, which, in my opinion, were standouts of the night. The grit in Meier’s voice alongside the vibrant acoustic instrumentation imbued “Lavender Girl” with a well of emotion. The shift to electric and heavy percussion in the next song, “No Sleep,” sparked a surge of energy from this sonic contrast, crescendoing in the guitar solo of “Peach Fuzz.” Such striking, energetic movement demonstrated Caamp’s affinity for curating a setlist around dynamic variance. My ears still rang with the ghosts of the electric guitar solo when the subtle harmonies of “Ohio’s Ugly” hit me like a gut punch. As Meier repeated the line, “calling off that edge,” with such raw sincerity, the melody carried depths of a meaning that extended far beyond these words. For as long as he held out its last, haunting note, I felt sure I could understand it.
The band did not interact with the audience much, favoring wordless cues among themselves and letting the songs speak for themselves. While their performance was certainly strong enough to do so, this lack of conversation beyond the stage created distance between the listeners and the band. As Caamp turned to face each other during a tempo change or transition, it was like they were speaking a secret language to which we were meant to be mere witnesses. This was probably true, but many of the most successful performers I have seen work to incorporate the audience into the show, providing the crowd with a sense of ownership over the moment and the music that feels special, even if it’s just an illusion.
In this moving, if slightly insular, performance, Caamp showed us what they value: authenticity. In one of the few conversational moments later in the show, Meier spoke over the drunken buzz of the crowd, not raising his voice as he said: “There’s a lot going on in the world right now. I would just like to acknowledge that what this band stands for is love.” The band proceeded to play a stripped-back, heart-wrenching delivery of “Shade,” sitting side-by-side on the tiered stage. They faced the ever-rowdier audience with vulnerability, not rising to meet their energy. To me, it was as if they were saying, “This is us, this is our music. Take it or leave it.”
By the end of the night, fans were on their feet again, singing and dancing along to a rollicking rendition of “Going to the Country” and 2016 hit “All the Debts I Owe.” Caamp brought something raw and real to the MGM stage: a performance steeped in emotion and integrity that felt both refreshing and powerful.
Featured image by: CJ Harvey
