Alex G
Bedroom-recorded songs that curdle in beautiful ways — pitch-shifted vocals, folk melodies, and lyrics that never explain themselves, from indie rock's most quietly influential songwriter of the past decade.
Kilby Block Party 2026 has already wrapped — but you can still dig through the lineup and find the acts you would have loved.
Three May days at the Utah State Fairpark — Lorde, The xx and Turnstile over one of the most tightly curated indie bills in the country.
Kilby Block Party grew out of Kilby Court, a 100-capacity garage venue in Salt Lake City, and has become one of the most tightly curated indie bills in the country. The 2026 edition ran three days at the Utah State Fairpark with 70 acts, headlined by Lorde, The xx and Turnstile.
The programming is the reason to pay attention. Rather than buying a broad festival bill, Kilby books like a record shop staff-picks shelf — reunion sets from American Football and Grandaddy sitting next to Feeble Little Horse, YHWH Nailgun and Hotline TNT, with Father John Misty, Japanese Breakfast, Modest Mouse, Lucy Dacus and Blood Orange filling the middle. Very little of it overlaps with the amphitheatre circuit.
It also books its own scene properly. Utah acts including The Moss, Ritt Momney, The Kilans and Pixie & the Partygrass Boys played alongside the touring names, which is not something most festivals of this size still bother to do.
Expect indie rock, alternative, indie pop and post-punk across 70 acts.
Lorde, The xx and Turnstile, across a 70-act bill.
May 15–17, 2026, at the Utah State Fairpark in Salt Lake City.
An indie festival that grew out of Kilby Court, a 100-capacity all-ages garage venue in Salt Lake City. The booking leans indie rock, shoegaze, emo and experimental pop, and it consistently books more adventurously than its size would suggest.
70, including reunion sets from American Football and Grandaddy and a substantial contingent of Utah artists.
Lollapalooza lineup →Hopscotch lineup →The Fest lineup →Rebellion lineup →III Points lineup →Lost Lands lineup →Louder Than Life lineup →All Points East lineup →Aftershock lineup →End of the Road lineup →ARC lineup →Warped Tour Orlando lineup →Austin City Limits lineup →Reading & Leeds lineup →EDC Orlando lineup →Bourbon & Beyond lineup →Riot Fest lineup →Outside Lands lineup →Green Man lineup →HARD Summer lineup →Osheaga lineup →Bass Canyon lineup →Hulaween lineup →Honcho Campout lineup →Portola lineup →Furnace Fest lineup →Shaky Knees lineup →Sick New World Texas lineup →Hinterland lineup →All Things Go DMV lineup →Raleigh Wide Open lineup →Oceans Calling lineup →Darker Waves lineup →Bumbershoot lineup →Ohana lineup →Sea.Hear.Now lineup →Iron Blossom lineup →All Things Go NYC lineup →
Bedroom-recorded songs that curdle in beautiful ways — pitch-shifted vocals, folk melodies, and lyrics that never explain themselves, from indie rock's most quietly influential songwriter of the past decade.
One album in 1999 that quietly became the emo-revival blueprint, and a reunion that turned out to have real songs in it.
Minimalist LA synth-punk trio — icy grooves and motorik precision, like a security-camera feed of a party you're not cool enough to attend.
Lili Trifilio's bright, fast guitar-pop about being twenty and miserable — the songs are far sharper than that sounds, with 'Prom Queen' still a viral touchstone.
A 2000s indie-pop lifer whose songs about very ordinary things have quietly outlasted most of the scene — power-pop craft worn as casually as a thrift-store tee.
Sibling duo making fuzzy, playful alt-pop with internet-era intimacy — lo-fi textures and hooks that sound DM'd directly to you.
Dev Hynes's soft-focus '80s R&B, built from collaborations and sounding like a late-night city drive — a producer-auteur whose melancholy has shaped a decade of pop.
Nashville guitar-pop with a rasp and a big chorus — festival-ready without being calculated about it, 'Freakin' Out on the Interstate' still the calling card.

Cork's melodica-toting indie romantics — Fontaines-adjacent and rising fast, with a windswept, literary streak all their own.

Eight-piece London chamber-rock swells — patient, communal, and overwhelming, songs that gather like weather until the whole room is inside them.
Belfast noise-dance — industrial techno pulse under post-punk vocals, engineered to blur the line between gig and rave.
The blog-era success story, now essentially Alec Ounsworth solo, and that distinctive warble is undimmed — self-released indie history still touring on its own terms.
Chicago trio playing wide-open, echoing guitar songs with two voices trading off and a genuine sense of space — heartbreak surf-rock with room to breathe.
Austin four-piece who swap instruments mid-set and play garage-punk like it might fall apart at any second — controlled chaos as a band philosophy.
Florence Shaw talks rather than sings, over a rhythm section far too good to be background — deadpan and oddly moving.
Josh Tillman's lounge-lizard persona hasn't slipped in a decade, and the orchestral arrangements keep getting better — irony and sincerity in permanent, gorgeous tension.
Pittsburgh noise-pop that keeps interrupting itself — sweet melodies shoved through a broken amp, engineered to fall apart beautifully.
Florida indie rock built for festival fields — 'August' euphoria, surging choruses, and a live energy that outruns the recordings.
Melbourne's deadpan folk harmonists — three voices, one wicked sense of humor, close-harmony singing with a stand-up's timing.
Xenya Genovese's woozy, guitar-led bedroom pop, sung like she's half-asleep and completely certain — Manchester cool at a whisper.
Absurdist synth-pop performance art — bubbly, deranged, delightful, a show engineered to make a crowd grin and go 'what?' simultaneously.
Buzzy indie newcomer on the Merriweather bill.
Jason Lytle's fuzzy synth-and-guitar melancholy about obsolete machines and the people who loved them — 'The Sophtware Slump' still quietly prophetic.

Away from Paramore, looser and stranger — the voice is the same, the arrangements considerably weirder, solo records made for headphones over barricades.

Will Anderson's blown-out shoegaze with actual pop songs underneath all the fuzz — proof the revival has songwriting legs.
A restless producer who has already burned through several genres, each time convincingly — digicore to shoegaze without a wasted step.
Michelle Zauner writes about joy and grief with the same precision, over arrangements that keep getting more ambitious — gong hits and all.
Post-punk-inflected alt-rock with a genuine 2005 dance-punk streak, and much heavier live than on record — new-core energy with real nostalgic craft.
Loose-limbed, Dylan-shaped American songwriting, delivered like he has all the time in the world — road-dog albums that keep quietly stacking up.
Theatrical London five-piece who arrived fully formed — corsetry, harpsichord flourishes, and songs big enough to justify both, 'Nothing Matters' the proof.
Three albums in three distinct modes, all of them built on the same trick — enormous emotional weight carried by very few notes.
A novelist's eye for the specific detail, delivered in the warmest voice in the boygenius orbit — 'Night Shift' still the slow-burn masterclass.
Maryland songwriter with a light touch and unusually sharp lyrics about being observed online — bedroom pop with a producer's ear.
Maximalist internet-native synth-pop, with a live show built to match the density of the records — lore, visuals, and hooks in equal supply.
Melody Prochet's French psych-pop, layered and slightly disorienting in the best way — kaleidoscope production around featherweight melodies.
Isaac Brock's jittery, seasick guitar songs about the highway and the void — three decades of them, still unmistakable from the first yelp.
Provo-formed indie rock with a tropical lilt, and one of the Utah scene's genuine breakout stories — breezy hooks with island warmth.
Galway four-piece dealing in gauzy, low-slung shoegaze with a persistent undertow of dread — Irish gloom in slow motion.
Perth duo — punchy, sunburnt indie rock in the great Australian garage tradition, mates-first energy and hooks to match.
A drag queen and environmental organizer whose sets are equal parts performance, choir, and outdoor-access advocacy — camp with a cause.

Bay Area darkwave with a slick, sinister R&B undertow — goth music you can actually move to, horror-movie romance included.
Left a YouTube career behind to make genuinely ambitious, orchestral experimental rap about death and dissolution — one of the internet's great reinventions.
Jack Rutter's Salt Lake bedroom project, which went unexpectedly viral and then made the interesting record anyway — the cover paid for the experiments.
New York hardcore built around a banjo run through a wall of distortion — genuinely unlike anything else, and heavier than it has any right to be.
Norwegian duo making sparse, club-adjacent pop that keeps dissolving just as it settles — unease as an aesthetic.
Lindsey Jordan's guitar playing is the real draw — clean, unhurried lines under lyrics about wanting more than you got.

Oklahoma synth-funk duo — velvet grooves, zero pretension, chillwave warmth with actual pocket, made for golden-hour sway.
Nate Amos writing straightforwardly beautiful songs after years of deliberately difficult ones — Water From Your Eyes' other half, unmasked.
Montreal soft-pop with a late-'70s AM-radio warmth and Jane Penny's unhurried delivery on top — soft-focus songs with sneaky staying power.
Baltimore hardcore that long ago stopped being only hardcore — one of the most joyful, physical live sets going, 'GLOW ON' communion nightly.
Jack Tatum's reverb-soaked '80s indie-pop, which has aged much better than the chillwave label it arrived with — 'Shadow' still shimmering.
Whispered boy-girl duets over almost nothing at all — a band whose defining quality is what they leave out, and the restraint still stuns.
New York experimental noise built on percussion that never settles into a groove — abrasive, spasmodic, and genuinely thrilling live.