REVIEW: VALLEY @ HOUSE OF BLUES 9/29

Photo Credit: Becca Hamel

Review by Ashley Duong

Valley’s performance at House of Blues in Boston’s Fenway area marked their return after a difficult year since their last tour back in 2023. One of their core band members left to pursue music production, leaving the band in a tumultuous state. Since this Boston show was their second show on the “Water The Flowers, Pray For A Garden” tour, the pressure was indisputable. 

But if the pressure got the best of them, or if the struggles from this last year plagued their mind, it remained invisible to the audience because Valley’s ability to make a smaller Boston venue (2,200-person capacity) come alive with their magnetic stage presence, dynamic set production, and innate musicality is a testament to their growth as an indie/alternative band.

Openers Charli Adams and Mickey Darling prepped the crowd for what to expect from Valley, with Charli emulating the musical equivalent of a warm hug and a cup of tea, illuminated by two lamps by her side and her acoustic guitar’s soothing tone. Mickey Darling took the stage soon after, an indie-pop duo that wholeheartedly juxtaposed Charli’s calming presence with their energetic, eclectic, and theatrical nature. Lead singer Skyler Molina set the tone, dancing with no shoes on. 

The sound of rain noises and a soothing synth hum cut through the crowd’s anticipation. Valley walked on stage, followed by a sound byte from their newest album saying, “Good morning, you’re listening to a band called Valley.” The black and white tapestry with the name Valley behind it dropped to showcase a brand new tapestry with the scenery from their latest album. The stage was a bed of grass and flowers, letting the band physically dance in the symbolic garden they were praying for.  They open with “Water The Flowers, Pray For A Garden,” an optimistic and upbeat song that foreshadows the theme of the album and the rest of the concert with lyrics like, “Just open your eyes ’cause It’s always the bright side.” 

Valley’s tour experience shined through with their use of stage production and refashioning old songs to keep the crowd on their toes. With “A Phone Call In Amsterdam,” they used light production to their advantage, cutting the lighting right before the climax of the song. Hearing “Sucks To See You Doing Better” live was therapeutic, allowing the crowd to scream, “You’re doing better than me, I admit it / Found someone better than me, and I hate it.” Lead vocalist Rob Laska lets a fan choose their next song, giving nostalgic choices like “Park Bench,” “Sports Car,” and “Closer To The Picture,” and finally settling on “Name Drop.”

The band’s theme of living and pushing through is apparent not only in their lyrics but also in their ability to revitalize a show. I found the star player to be the woman behind the drumkit, Karah James. She provided stability with her masterful drumming, all while playing the harmonica and occasionally singing backup vocals, but truly shined stepping in front of the kit for “Mosquito” and “Let It Rain.” 

“Let It Rain” took us through a synthesis of the band’s journey, with Karah explaining the difficulty of playing the new album since it was created in and fueled by a sad time for the band, “Getting on stage and playing these songs tonight isn’t about playing in the sadness, but it’s about connecting.” Part of me thinks playing this music live was perhaps more for the band to have their creative, cathartic release—and I’m more than happy to simply stand and appreciate it. 

There was something outright sacred about experiencing the bridge of “Life Goes On Without Me,” the culmination of the hardships Valley’s been through together, and the active choice to persevere. It is a feeling that was strikingly obvious with the momentous build-up. 

Arguably, the most anticipated song was the penultimate one, “There’s Still A Light In The House,” which was done with a glitch in the studio version’s recognizable instrumental introduction. Once the crowd heard the chorus’s familiar lyrics, “I’d like to call you on the way home / Another precious call to waste on my mouth,” there was nothing but smiles in the small room. The concert ended with “Bop Ba,” which felt like an awkward pick, being a slow song that left crowds wanting more. 

As they joined for their final bow, I realized that I experienced a culmination of Valley’s career—their hardships, metamorphosis, and desperate grip on hope. And I’d choose to experience it again, simply because I found myself believing the same words they wrote: to choose to let it rain and water my flowers in a blind hope that a garden grows (because that’s our only option).

The house lights come up, and a familiar sound byte plays, “Thank you for listening to a band named Valley tonight.”