Words by Ria Rao
Last Friday night, Wednesday — a five-piece alt rock band from Asheville, North Carolina — took over the Fonda Theatre. Trucker hats, camouflage, and vintage graphic tees adorned, the rest of the crowd seemed just as excited as I was to hear Wednesday’s latest release, Bleeds, live at the historic venue.
The show began with opener Friendship, a Philadelphia-based quartet who masterfully blend country rock and deeply sincere lyrics atop tastefully clangy guitar, pedal steel, and Motown rhythms. Lead vocalist Dan Wriggins — backed by Michael Cormier-O’Leary, Jon Samuels, and Peter Gill — humbly introduced the band, confessed to the crowd that it was their first time in Los Angeles, and detailed his amusing train ride to the Fonda that day. Friendship was instantly charismatic and, true to their name, made the 1,200-capacity venue feel like a jam sesh with friends listening in. Their folksy rock sound was influenced by their Northeastern namesake of Friendship, Maine and seemed reminiscent of old Neil Young tunes. My personal favorite off their 2025 record Caveman Wakes Up was “Free Association,” a classic love song about searching for love and meaning in the most surprising of places. It was blissful, idyllic, and the perfect preface to Wednesday’s set.
At exactly 10:15 p.m. came Wednesday. The band consists of frontwoman Karly Hartzman (vocals, guitar), Alan Miller (drums), Ethan Baechtold (bass), Xandy Chelmis (pedal steel), MJ Lenderman (studio guitar), and Jake Pugh (touring guitar). Hartzman came out sporting a black graphic top, leopard print athletic shorts, and her usual black lip (which, naturally, inspired whispers of wanting to try on black lipstick). Her guitar, a hodgepodge of buttons and beads resembling a 3D “I Spy” book, was representative of the nostalgic and homey stage decor; an eccentric collection of dolls and stuffed animals bestrewed the stage against a backdrop of the Bleeds album cover. At one point, an attendee tossed an Odie stuffed animal to Hartzman on stage (“Is that the guy from Garfield?”), which was then quickly adopted into the stash.
After a quick intro, Wednesday played my favorite track on Bleeds, “Wound Up Here (By Holdin On),” which documents the funeral of a high school football player (“Found him drowned in the creek, face was puffy / They hung his dirty jersey up in a trophy case / I wound up here by holdin’ on / Your faceless ear gathers like a mob”). The imagery Hazrtman’s lyrics paint throughout the album are deeply vivid, poignant, and completely transformative in the truest sense.
“Phish Pepsi,” another highlight of the set, welcomed Dan Wriggins from Friendship back to the stage. It is a vulnerable documentation of streets from her childhood: “Rode my bike home, drunk off of a Four Loko.” The band’s consistent ability to create a widely hard-hitting musical landscape with ultraspecific lyrics never ceased to amaze me throughout the night.
About halfway through the set, Hartzman surprised the crowd with a cover of “Lonely Girls” by Lucinda Williams. It was a hymn-like break from the usual headbanging and moshing of the show with standout lyrics (“Sweet sad songs sung by lonely girls / Pretty hairdos worn by lonely girls”). Then followed “Gary’s II,” the closing track off Bleeds and, according to Hartzman, the second song she’s written dedicated to her landlord Gary, because “Most landlords are not great, but he was, so he gets two songs.” It feels like a caricature of a classic Appalachian campfire tune.
The show followed an amusing spiel about country singer George Jones and how Hartzman is “at least better off than him” (in terms of being a nervous wreck from touring and fame), some tracks off 2023’s Rat Saw God (including “Bath County”), and a humble yet surreal anecdote about hearing their breakout single “Elderberry Wine” played while the band was visiting an LA night market the day prior. “Elderberry Wine” is rightfully a crowd favorite, and a common appearance on nearly every indie Spotify-generated playlist since its release. It’s deeply personal, melancholic, and a bittersweet juxtaposition of love and fame: “I find comfort that angels don’t give a damn / But everybody gets along just fine / ‘Cause the champagne tastes like elderberry wine.”
After releasing five albums in the past five years, Wednesday has mastered their distinct style of headbang-inducing melodies atop Hartzman’s potent anecdotes of Appalachian nostalgia. This performance solidified Bleeds as my favorite new release this fall. Its reimagination of American country rock and its lyrical poetry made for an incredible Friday night spent in Los Angeles, and left me impatiently awaiting the next opportunity to see Wednesday live.
