John Andrews & The Yawns, Ruby of Thanks, Keven Louis Lareau
Upstairs at Abyssinia
229 S 45th St.
Philadelphia, PA
Sept. 19, 2026
John Andrews doesn’t usually play DIY shows with his band in tow — he typically tackles those solo – and when you get the show room at Abyssinia sufficiently packed with gear and bodies, it can feel less like your average club show and more like a secret after-party, a spontaneous jammy hang, or like sneaking into a band’s rehearsal space: an intimate glimpse of a band, up close and personal, a little more exposed and casual than usual. The revolving-door quality of the show – solo opener Keven Louis Lareau was on triple duty, playing bass in Ruby of Thanks and the Yawns, and both bands shared a drummer, too – had things feeling extra laidback, extra low-stakes. For these artists, whose music tends toward nostalgic and cheerfully harmonious, the vibe couldn’t have been better.
Keven Louis Lareau’s show-opening set was a novel marvel: accompanying himself on acoustic guitar (and ripping lots of smooth, melodic, string-bending solos), he also played along to backing tracks he’d recorded himself, possibly the quietest, friendliest-on-the-ears backing-track-heavy set I’ve ever witnessed. And that’s not all: carefully-edited and synchronized video footage he’d shot himself played on an old TV monitor resting above his guitar amp. The music was of the gently-loping sort, recommended if you like JJ Cale, Bobby Charles and Ted Lucas (the pre-recorded backing vocals meant Lareau was harmonizing with himself in a very Lucas-y way; high praise). The songs were all suitably low key and amiable, invoking porch hangs, rocking chairs and simple, carefree days; I chuckled when Lareau sang, “I never asked for much of life, and life obliged,” and I dug the silly way the backing-track recordings would end with canned applause, too, acknowledging the goofy artifice of the whole thing.
Ruby of Thanks was up next, and the shift from backing-track instrumentation to the interplay of a band in real time felt like the room was suddenly suffused with new diaphanous daylight: smooth, soft, a little dusky and a little silky, with brushed, tender drumming, open-tuned nylon-stringed guitar strumming (and that major-minor quality that comes from playing tons of 7th chords), melodic bass and supple electric keys. The band shimmered more than shimmied (leave that to the Yawns). I couldn’t make out many words, but wanted to – Andy Weaver’s singing was pretty, quiet, a little mumbly, but compelling in that you-gotta-lean-in-close way – and with a new album released just one day before this show, now’s a perfect time to get acquainted. The concluding set from John Andrews and his Yawns crew was relatively rollicking and upbeat, and a good bit more consciously crowd-pleasing, with a fun habit of playing a fun old-school cover (The Kinks, George McCrae, others) and transitioning it right into an even more brisk and bright original tune. (They could make a killer cover band, to be sure, but there’s nothing like hearing John Andrews Sing John Andrews.) And hearing songs from his 2026 record Streetsweeper in such an intimate setting – full disclosure, I work for the label that released it – was as natural and tranquil as listening to it on my porch swing (which I do plenty of), but rarer and sweeter for it.
