I knew I was going to be late to the Geordie Greep show—so, so late. As soon as I left the exam room, I ran down College Street looking crazed, trying not to slip given the downpour of freezing rain. I wouldn't stop until I reached the front doors of the Phoenix. 

Breathing hard and slightly soggy, I reached my destination about an hour after doors. There was still a line of about 70 people. Behind me was a couple who wouldn’t stop arguing with each other. The man was so obviously high on shrooms that security turned them away, ruining both of their nights. But you would likely have to maim me to stop me from seeing Geordie Greep tonight. If I had an appointment, I would cancel it. If a family member died, I would probably say sorry, we’ll worry about planning the funeral tomorrow. If I fell and broke a bone by slipping on the wet pavement I would probably cry about it, but drag myself to the Phoenix anyways and tough it out. I desperately needed to see Geordie Greep on this cold, wet Monday night. 

Why did I feel this way? While I do really love Greep’s music, I’m also very impressed with what he’s done in his career for being only twenty-five years old, and I felt it would be a great disservice to miss my chance to see him up close and live. Greep was the frontman of the critically acclaimed English experimental rock band “black midi” from 2017 until their disbandment in 2024. Soon thereafter, Greep launched his solo career with his debut album, The New Sound (TNS). I’m not alone in feeling that Greep will end up being looked back on as one of the most interesting and talented musicians of the 2020s, and I went into the Phoenix anticipating a great performance. 

The original venue for tonight’s show was the Axis Club, with its capacity of 600 people selling out rapidly. This was quickly moved to the Phoenix Concert Theatre, where its capacity of 1,350 was again sold out. You might be thinking: “Didn’t the Phoenix close down?” Thankfully, no! The Phoenix—located at 410 Sherbourne Street —was set to close indefinitely in January of 2025, but has managed to extend its operations into 2026. I recommend you head on over there and see a show while you still can. 

That being said, The Phoenix was packed to the brim and filled with an air of anticipation. The crowd consisted of primarily young adults, RYM users, and 30-year-old men with glasses and mustaches who likely owned many vinyl records. My tardiness caused me to miss the majority of tonight’s opener, Chicago-based singer-songwriter NNAMDÏ. I heard from him some dreamy, bassy songs with nice guitar leads. The lyrics and style of singing sometimes leaned towards emo, combined with an R&B drum beat and feel, which felt unique and left a strong impression. 

Greep’s set would focus on songs from TNS, released this past October. Combining elements of jazz, rock, Latin, and prog, the product is an album full of energy. The album feels extremely fresh through its whole runtime. The narrative of TNS is centered around a narrator who is so horny and pathetic it is ruining his life. “Holy, Holy,” the main single of the album, lures the listener in with the ramblings of a playboy who seduces every woman he wants, a man whose name everyone knows. The second half of the song reveals that it is all a farce - he pays women to act out his fantasy world where he is a lady-killer, where he looks taller, where he is someone desirable and known. TNS’s lyrics are often jarring and evocative yet hilarious, which kept me immersed from start to finish. 

Greep walked onto the stage wearing a pair of grey slacks, a black dress shirt, black dress shoes, and a black overcoat - his mature sense of style warrants fans to say that he looks 25 and 50 at the same time. During this leg of the tour, Greep was performing with a touring band composed of Dave Strawn on bass, Ethan Marsh on guitar, Cameron Campbell on keyboard, and Charlie Schefft on drums. The show kicked off with the fifth song from The New Sound, “Walk Up.”“Walk Up” introduces some themes in TNS to the concertgoers, with lyrics about seeking out sex workers and humiliation rituals. Greep would dance on stage just as he did in the video for “Holy, Holy,” emulating the mannerisms of the TNS narrator. He danced in a way that was almost slick and stylish, but fell just short of it. Instead, he came off as stiff, unnatural, and forced, as one might expect from our deluded narrator (unless that’s just how Greep genuinely dances… in that case, sorry for my harsh words.) 

The second song of the night was “Terra," and not long into the set, I realized what Greep cared about doing here tonight. I could tell he had little interest in playing the songs as they were on the album, and instead would extend bridges, intros, and outros several minutes longer, savouring the moment and jamming alongside his bandmates, creating something almost entirely new. Other songs such as “Blues" would be played so fast that their lyrics started to sound unintelligible: “You know what I mean? You know what I mean? Is your favourite turn of phrase.” These variations turned a set that would otherwise be predictable album material into something new and unique – and amazing, at that. 

I never tired of observing the chemistry of the band throughout the duration of the show. It wasn’t just a show to see Geordie Greep, but a show to experience the band as a whole, who are amazing at what they do and have a lot of fun doing it. I would often see Strawn staring at Greep with a perplexed expression on his face, actively trying to decipher how Greep wanted to play songs such as “The New Sound” and “Bongo Season.” At certain points Greep would orchestrate the band, using visual cues or gestures to direct them on what to do, but at other times their improvisation seemed completely natural and almost telepathic.  

One of my personal favourite songs of the night was “Through a War," which was so expressive, groovy, and filled with desire. Our unreliable narrator boasts about accomplishments in a compensating, masculine manner, likely fabricating every anecdote. “As If Waltz” was fantastic with the additional of live piano, sounding gentle and almost like a lullaby during the calmer sections of the song. Greep sang softly while still being filled with emotion, knowing exactly how to create tension and a sense of lingering. “Holy, Holy’ was the biggest crowd pleaser of the night - its intro caused a mosh pit to form for a brief moment, and the ground began to shake. 

After "Holy, Holy,” Strawn drew out the shape of a rectangle in the air, which summoned a large, green-haired man onto the stage to start singing a song about rectangles. I was thoroughly confused at this moment, but discovered the next day that this character was Sean Stephens, Canadian tech CEO and artist who has made appearances at a handful of Greep’s North American tour stops. Stephens is known online for his song “Rectangular:” “I am rectangular, I feel it in my bones,” which quickly became a meme on Instagram and Tiktok. Stephens was a hit with the crowd, but my favourite comedic moment of the night was when Greep and Strawn engaged in a three stooges-esque slapstick comedy bit, with Greep throwing fake exaggerated WWE-style punches, Strawn swinging his bass guitar, and Greep knocking him to the floor just to help him up and knock him back down again. The guitarist beamed, watching it all unfold in front of him. 

The band members had fun riffing on “Bongo Season” for more than 20 minutes, becoming so long and incessant that it bordered on overstimulating for many concertgoers. I watched as a woman in the crowd slowly lost all of her patience during the song and made a beeline towards the exit. The last song of the night was what might be the most important song of the whole album, “The Magician.” In a beautiful behemoth of a song, our narrator voices how he remains unfulfilled even after his life of hedonistic escapades: he is full of despair, wondering what is left, hiding from his life, living in his fantasies instead of reality, “no, none of it’s real.” Though Greep’s performance was fantastic in itself, his voice unwavering and intense, the emotion in the piano playing stole the show, making me tear up just a little bit. The band took the opportunity at the end of the night to be silly once again, going wild with their instruments, spinning around, and jumping up and down like monkeys on a bed. When all was said and done, the band took some bows while the crowd applauded and cheered fiercely. The band didn’t seem nearly as tired as the crowd, who were restless and eager to head home after two and a half hours of pure Greep. 

Stepping back outside into the cold, rainy night left me with a feeling I’ve never had after a concert, and that I can best describe as post-Greep depression. What I saw was so beautiful and fascinating - the music was deeply captivating, and it was an absolute pleasure to see so many talented musicians function on stage together as a unit, in a culmination of something greater than the sum of their parts. I felt like I wanted the whole night to replay in front of my eyes once again. I could have stayed in that same spot in the crowd feeling my back aching from the pain of standing so long, watching another two and a half hours of Greep, and then even more, and at the same time next week, and the next week after that too, and the next month and the next...