Spanish Love Songs, Bike Routes & World’s Greatest Dead
Space Ballroom
Hamden
Sept. 10, 2025
There was a magic spot, at least in the ears of this beholder, on the Space Ballroom stage Wednesday night: near the front, stage right. Each of the three bands playing that night put a guitarist there, and each of those guitarists strummed directly on my heartstrings.
It was punk rock band Spanish Love Songs’ first-ever headline show in Connecticut. Opening for them were tourmates Bike Routes from New Jersey and World’s Greatest Dad from Atlanta, Georgia. Hamden’s Space Ballroom rounded out with old and new fans for the openers and swelled into a packed house for the headliner, an all-out first stop on what is promising to be a whirlwind tour.
“We are two songs in, and every bone in my body hurts,” said Spanish Love Songs’ lead singer Dylan Slocum. It was his band’s first show in a year.
It was also Bike Routes’ first time playing in Connecticut and a milestone for World’s Greatest Dad; their last show in the state was a DIY show, and now they were back, playing a non-DIY show.
“Isn’t that cool for us?” lead singer Maddie Duncan said. “Someone should tell my dad.”
New Jersey’s Bike Routes was up first, blessing the stage with their emo rock expressions of rebellion and release.
George Estrada on guitar drove the band’s mood through controlled chaos, cohesion, and chaos again as frontman Dave Osterhout let loose on the mic. Drummer Mikey Corrao bounced to his solid rhythms, smiling and appearing to bite the air as the music flowed through him. Conner DeMuro headbanged to the rhythms of his bass.
Even in the vulnerable tension of a trembling high note, Estrada looked comfortable in the driver’s seat. The metallic twang of his guitar was a callback to classic rock, a glamorous whine setting the stage for Osterhout’s angsty lyrics to expand, unhurried.
Estrada hopped vertically through the air, pushing the music further and further to its tonal edge and distorting his sound when the rest of the band poured in. With each step on the pedals at his feet, he brought his guitar through different dimensions.
“I like, nerd out with that kinda stuff,” Estrada told me after the show. “Like hours on the floor.”
World’s Greatest Dad guitarist Kegan Krogh picked up Estrada’s baton when his band came to the stage.
“Are you ready?” Duncan asked in a gentle voice. Then the whole band joined in for five intense, world-shaking beats enveloping the space in walls of sound.
Jake Murnane on bass and Matt Hendler on drums gave the music depth, while Duncan’s vocals remained clear on top. Krogh’s guitar was another voice, echoing the melody when the band took instrumental breaks. He gave each segment what it needed, alternating fluidly between sonorous single chords and choked-up rhythmic segments, hitting an arpeggio when the moment was right.
Krogh’s guitar soared through the stage like a bird through the sky, an audibility that proved necessary as he sometimes would play just one poignant note at a time.
By the time World’s Greatest Dad was done, they earned their honorary fatherhood in the hearts of even first-time listeners in the Space Ballroom.
At this point, I thought I shouldn’t expect more than my fair share of coincidence. Bike Routes and World’s Greatest Dad might have had killer guitars working the crowd from their spot by the speakers, but Spanish Love Songs, surely, would just have the nice cohesive band sound their fans know and love.
That’s where I was wrong.
A few songs in, Slocum looked toward guitarist Kyle McAulay, who’s been in the band since its start in 2013, and said, “That might be the best you’ve ever played that solo.” McAulay was standing stage right, by the speakers, where Estrada and Krogh played before him.
“Give it up for Kyle!” Slocum shouted, to whoops and hollers from the room. The audience started chanting “Ky-le! Ky-le! Ky-le!”
At one point the band took a break from their own songs and just spent a minute having McAulay play the famous guitar riff from Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train.” It was what the crowd wanted to hear.
Wednesday’s show was the first stop on an exciting tour — what Slocum compared to a baseball player’s return to the major leagues after an injury. To my delighted ears, it was also a showcase of the power of electric guitar.
In the moment I saw it as something sacred about the Space Ballroom’s stage, but the truth probably has more to do with thoughtful band structure and each guitarist’s energy rubbing up on the others’. The three bands are about to spend the rest of September touring the Northeast, South, and Midwest; if it was like this on night one, who knows what kind of supernatural phenomena will spring from a month together?
I’ll be listening to the latest from each of these bands in October to find the answer.
Apologies for the blown-out sound; I got too close to the speakers.
