Review: Is No Phones the New Way to See a Concert?

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words and photos by Ruby Tavano

I recently attended Phoebe Bridgers’ Lost Tour. The artist is infamously known for her distaste toward phones at concerts. It makes sense. Her music is profoundly deep, sad, and touches on things people normally wouldn’t sing about. So naturally, the no-phones policy ended up being my favorite thing ever. Leaving the concert, I remembered everything, and there was something so spiritual and special about knowing those memories would live forever in that one arena and in my mind, not on some screen.

But let’s go back to the start.

I purchased the tickets this summer, knowing going in that it would be a device-free experience. I had never seen Phoebe Bridgers in concert before, and I consider her one of my top artists. Her sound and lyrics have always hit close to the heart; I just had never gotten the opportunity to see her live. I was willing to spend whatever and go wherever for this experience. That brought me to Section 114, Row GG, at Bridgestone Arena in Nashville, Tennessee, on October 10, 2026. Leading up to the show, I had planned out my outfit, the merch I wanted to purchase, the friend I was attending with, and, of course, a bag full of tissues.

Arriving at the venue, there was already a line stretching down the block when doors opened at 6:00 p.m. This was because everyone had to lock their devices away in Yondr pouches upon entry. My friend and I waited about an hour on the rainy streets before I finally scanned my tickets and placed my phone in the pouch.

The weird thing about having no device to keep you entertained is that you develop such an interesting concept of time, and it is honestly so refreshing. I waited in line for merchandise, secured what I wanted, and then my friend and I found our seats and listened to the opener.

Walking to our seats felt different from previous concerts simply because I had not seen a single image of what the stage setup looked like. Phoebe had two stages, and we were closer to the larger one. The main stage had a curtain and a giant white dome taking up almost its entirety. It looked like an igloo. Looking over to my right was the B stage, where the opener was performing. It was a smaller circular stage with this intricate planet fixture, its craters appearing to be lights. I was intrigued.

Another interesting feeling was how dark the arena seemed because there were no phone screens lighting up the faces around me. The opener finished his set, and it was time to wait for Phoebe to take the stage. Or stages?

The lights went down, signaling that it was time for the show to start. Everyone stood up, and I had absolutely no clue what was in store for the next two hours.

The ringing note of the opening track on her new album, The Outside, began to play, but Phoebe was physically nowhere to be seen. The only thing happening was the planet fixture slowly rising, revealing blue lights as we heard her singing from somewhere. The first song ended, and then the famous guitar strum intro to Motion Sickness began to play. Suddenly, the dome/igloo started to rise, revealing her platinum blonde hair, a black dress, and a full band.

Chills immediately went down my spine. I was that close to the one and only Phoebe Bridgers. Dancing with my friend and singing along felt like a moment I had been dreaming of my whole life.

The songs continued, and within seven songs, I was already sobbing. The culprit was Garden Song from her sophomore album, Punisher. I knew exactly what it was and why the tears started flowing. The nostalgia of hearing a song from an album that soundtracked my entire high school experience, now being sung live in front of my own two eyes, was overwhelming. In the words Phoebe was singing, it felt like “I have everything I wanted.”

Continuing with the Punisher theme, she played Moon Song, and the dome above her had a moon projected onto it as everyone held up lighters. It was so special to see how creative people got without their phones.

Naturally, the tears did not fade. Each song that followed felt like another jab to the heart, but the real deep cut came when the igloo closed and she appeared on the smaller B stage.

She began with the title track, Lost Weekend, and this is one performance I will never forget. Not only because of my emotional connection to the song, especially with everything that has happened in my life this year, but because the visuals were insane.

That planet light did the craziest, most incredible thing with lighting during the outro that I could not even begin to describe. The entire arena was filled with these crazy, squiggly rainbow lights. It almost felt like a panic attack made tangible.

There was no time to process what had just happened, or what was about to come, because the bone-chilling, fight-or-flight-inducing intro to Funeral began to play. She hadn't even opened her mouth, and I was already sobbing. (Specifically worth noting, it got worse when she did open her mouth).

And it just continued on and on at the B stage. Sad, sad, and sadder.

Toward the end of her time on the B stage, Phoebe gave a short speech before beginning one of the final songs of the section. She thanked us for being able to put our devices away and spoke about her relationship with her dad, who had passed, and how she writes songs that are difficult to write. That was why it was so important to her to be able to look us face-to-face.

Still Standing began to play, arguably the saddest song on the album. During the soft vocalizing that finishes the song, everyone in the audience went silent and just let her sing. The only background vocals were the sounds of people crying all around me.

The audience was left silent.

She finished the section with As Above, which was personally my favorite moment of the entire concert. During the ending of the song, she belts, and the instruments and her voice fill the entire arena. She sounds insane. But as the building is practically rattling from her powerful vocals, glitter starts falling from the ceiling.

It truly felt like magic.

I was in awe watching her perform, surrounded by all this glitter. It was the one moment I could not stop talking about after the show. The section ended, and my friend and I just looked at each other, wiped our tears, and sat there completely starstruck.

Back at the igloo stage, the dome rose again, the full band still there as Phoebe joined them to go a little more upbeat with Bobby. I was excited to jump around and experience a little more dopamine than before.

She played her song from the movie Primetime with her electric guitar, which was so interesting to see from someone who writes and sings so softly most of the time. She really is versatile.

After jumping and screaming like one usually does at other concerts, she decided to go back to the sad stuff.

Waiting Room.

Now, this is one of those songs that soundtracked a completely different part of my life. I would listen to the full six minutes and 28 seconds more than once a day. So when she played it, I was right back to being a teary-eyed mess.

Singing “know it's for the better” over and over again felt so full circle, and I can truly say it changed my life.

I think people sometimes don't understand that hearing a song live, in person, with the artist and thousands of other people singing along, especially when that song means something so special to you, is truly life-altering.

Continuing on, she sang I Can't Wait with her brother, Jackson Bridgers, followed by an unreleased song that can only be found on vinyl records, performed with her best friend, Christian Lee Houston.

The show was coming to an end, and naturally, it was time for her to play I Know the End.

Now, talk about a PERFORMANCE.

This might have been one of the most therapeutic moments of my life. The buildup at the end, when the music starts to amp up and the band begins to rock and roll alongside Phoebe and the audience, was unreal.

Everyone was jumping up and down as it began: “driving out into the sun let the ultraviolet cover me up…”

Then came the time to yell. And when I mean yell, I mean everyone was SCREAMING, letting out all that pent-up energy. I had never felt a room so full.

The igloo closed for the final time.

Everyone began chanting “Phoebe, Phoebe, Phoebe” over and over again before she appeared on the B stage, glowing. Literally.

Just her, sitting on the floor, a mic, and the lyrics to Lost Weekend (Reprise).

Tears all over again. (That B stage was evil.)

She stood up and ended with the famous Scott Street. It felt like one big nostalgic hug.

When the repetition of “anyway don't be a stranger” was sung, the lights went up in the audience, revealing everyone waving their arms above their heads to the beat of the song. It was awesome.

It reminded me again of a major reason why I love live music so much. It's a community, a shared love for the same thing, and for a few hours, everyone is experiencing it together.

The show finished, I wiped my final tears, and as we exited the arena, the band was singing “never going back again, the way it used to be is not the way that it is.”

It felt like the perfect walkout music.