When I told people that my wife and I were flying from Sacramento to New York the night of our 9th anniversary to see The Morning Of play their first show in 13 years — and by all accounts their only show for the foreseeable future — the most common response was, “who?”
As an indie pop-rock band, this group stuck out on Tragic Hero Record’s roster. In my iPod, they stood out as something positive and hopeful. When the label re-released the band’s debut, Welcome Change, Goodbye Gravity in 2007 and The World as We Know It in 2008, I was living out of a duffle bag in liminal spaces: couch surfing, sharing a queen-sized bed in a basement or a friend’s guest room with my mom and little brother, etc. My headphones and my ears became one as a means of escape.
When their final album, The Way I Fell In, was released in 2010, I was in my first year at a local community college and grinding to get by, still an angry kid without the language or perspective to contextualize the things I’d been through. Still shout-singing along to songs like “Pilot to Base,” “Tell Me I’m Wrong” and “The Sound of Something Secure,” alone on my commute, understanding that lyrics like “The choir’s singing reckless nonsense; The words assemble answers in our heads; And I have hope of coming home” made me feel better without grasping why.
Screaming those same words again at 34-years-old, shoulder to shoulder with kind strangers in an unfamiliar venue, it struck me just how different the impact of those words were and the extent to which their meaning had changed for me.
It wasn’t just the performance that did it. Sure, Justin Wiley and Jessica Leplon’s vocals were tinged by the kind of natural changes all our voices go through with age, but both sounded phenomenal and it’s not like the band reimagined the songs they played in any major way. It was fact that I was no longer singing along alone; and that I am not the same me I was half a lifetime ago.
The power that live music and time have to recontextualize songs you’ve heard probably 200 times in your life is astounding if you give yourself a chance to sit in it. And I don’t think I’m being presumptuous in saying I wasn’t the only one experiencing it. Sure, many were simply transported back to a different time. When the band transitioned from “There’s a Bully In The Park” to “Cobwebs and Cables” the crowd matched the tonal shifts while maintaining an excited energy. And when Leplon sang “I Know You Know,” I caught two different people start crying during the song before laughing at themselves, wiping their eyes and turning to the person next to them, seemingly to make a quick joke or say something self deprecating. But walking out at the end of the set, I think I heard just about every iteration of the phrase, “[insert song name here] just hit different.”
I’ve always believed The Morning Of was ahead of their time, and on Sept. 19 at Le Poisson Rouge in New York City, they proved it. Their combination of vulnerability, compassion and humility was something I needed at a time in my life when I struggled to find my footing in a life without a semblance of real consistency. Now, all these years later, their music is something I think we could all use a little more of as we navigate a world that also lacks consistency. One in which the powers that be seek to turn us against one another and sow anger, fear and distrust among communities and long marginalized groups.
In 2007, the line “I am a saint in sinners clothing; Watch me save the world; I am a saint in sinners skin; Now let the healing begin” provided catharsis. It made clear to me that, while I was singing along alone, I wasn’t truly alone. In 2026, it was still cathartic to sing along with my peers — fellow fans of a band they too traveled thousands of miles to see — but with this new context, my interpretation changed. Now, when I hear the song “The New Is In,” it’s almost more like a call to action. A reminder of how critical it is, especially now, that we simply do what we can to help and support those around us, even if we, or the conditions we find ourselves in, aren’t perfect.
A few random thoughts and observations:
- Shout out to the person who came from the Philippines.
- I hope this band felt so much love that they at least record some new music (I know a tour is unrealistic). It’s obvious they were all having fun and were blown away by the response.
- Venue technical difficulties near the end of the set aside (which were thankfully resolved after about 10 minutes), everything sounded clear and clean and tight.
Setlist for those curious:
Let Your Spirit Soar
There’s a Bully in The Park
Cobwebs and Cables
The Sound of Something Secure
Jennasea
I Know You Know
The Time It Takes to Grow
The World As We Know It
Like Yesterday
The New Is In
Tell Me I’m Wrong
The Ones That Fall Apart
Heaven or Hell
Shine
Reverie
Pilot to Base