I heard They Are Gutting a Body of Water.

November 4, 2025. Doors, 7pm. (Standing room only)

This show was my first extended period of time spent in Denver. We found very close parking, thanks Denver. The first band to play were musicians just as old as me, on the road from Illinois. I never found their name, they never said.

Despite an amp breaking halfway through their set, the sound they created was non-stop noise that pushed my ribs from the inside out.  

The second band, Fib, reminded me of east coast city hipsters, tweed jackets, and skinny bike wheels.  

When it was finally the hour for TAGABOW, security began to push the crowd away from the stage. Confused, we packed like sardines as a massive section of the venue was cleared. To preface, me and Sarah had never been to a TAGABOW show before.  

Soon, a drum set had been set up where we were previously standing, and we began to understand all the chaos. They would be playing directly in the middle of the venue.  

As a fellow Philadelphian, I was extremely excited to see a band from Philadelphia all the way in Colorado. Not to any surprise, it was not hard to harvest response from a ‘go birds.’ The crowd was buzzing with ‘go birds’ and ‘Do they even know Mamdani won New York??” 

When TAGABOW finally picked up their instruments to play, people flooded the stage as the line blurs between the performance and the audience. The best description I have of their sound is a loud, melodic flood of noise. Electronic and sparkly, hardcore and heavy. Our bodies were moshing for us.  

The way I judge a show is the feeling I have in my chest as I walk out of the noise, into city chaos, and then to a silent car. The only documentation I successfully recorded was an audio recording from the bathroom at the end of their set. A damp, 44 second clip of sound that captures the exact feeling I had as I left. Nostalgic, the feeling of your arms floating up after pressing them hard against a doorframe.