The WOW Hall in Eugene was packed to the rafters for Mon Rovia’s sold-out show — and somehow, the staff never missed a beat. After 26 years of concert-going, I can honestly say WOW’s crew ranks in my top three of all time. Friendly, patient, and genuinely stoked to be there, even while juggling a wall-to-wall crowd.
Kicking off the night was Khatumu, joined by a guitarist who seemed to be having the time of his life. The two shared a kind of creative joy that was contagious. Her set was short but fantastic — a handful of personal stories and bare, beautiful truths set to melody.
As I scanned the room, I realized something almost unbelievable: in a sold-out crowd, I didn’t see a single phone in the air. Not one. This is only the second time I’ve witnessed that in the last decade — the other being a Tune-Yards show, also at WOW Hall. The place clearly attracts a helluva crowd.
After a quick detour to Khatumu’s merch table to grab a record (because, of course), I settled in for Mon Rovia. Musically, they sounded great. But their vibes? Off the chart. I was ready for the music — I wasn’t ready for the wave of kindness that rolled over the room as the set began.
Where most artists try to get the crowd to come out of their shells, Mon Rovîa invited everyone to look inward. Between songs, he spoke softly about pain, empathy, and the simple act of being there for one another. “People want to be there for you,” he said. “Your friends are willing to share your burdens.” Around me, people weren’t filming. They were holding hands. Hugging. Crying.
That’s the power of Mon Rovîa. The power of connection. What a show.