Castro Theatre

Orville Peck’s shows are a rare kind of spectacle: part classic country, part queer cabaret, all delivered from behind that now-iconic fringed mask. If you’ve only heard his records, you haven’t really met him. Peck’s live sets are where his voice—equal parts velvet and grit—takes on a new dimension, and the crowd’s devotion is palpable. The setlist jumps from lonesome ballads to boot-stomping anthems, but it’s the way he stitches together heartbreak and bravado that keeps the room hanging on every note. The mask isn’t just a gimmick; it’s a challenge to the genre’s old guard, and the audience is in on the secret. If you’re looking for a night that feels both familiar and subversive, this is it. Just don’t expect to leave without humming at least one of his hooks on the way home.

Melanie C has spent the past few years leaning back into the dance music that shaped her long before arena pop, and this tour is built around that renewed connection. The latest material draws from house, disco and club culture without treating nostalgia as the main attraction, which makes this a much more interesting night than a straightforward greatest hits set. Of course, the catalog still matters, and hearing those unmistakable pop anthems alongside newer, club-focused tracks gives the show its appeal. It also feels like a natural fit for the newly reopened Castro, where a room designed for cinema now comfortably accommodates concerts with a full standing audience. If you've been curious about how the venue works as a live music space, this is the kind of pop booking that makes a convincing case for it.

Aldous Harding’s live shows have a way of making time feel elastic. Her voice slips between registers, sometimes playful, sometimes haunted, always unpredictable. If you’ve only heard her on record, you haven’t really met her yet. Harding’s performances are famously idiosyncratic, with gestures and glances that seem to rewrite the rules of stage presence. She’ll hold a room in total silence, then break it with a sly smile or a lyric that lands like a secret. The setlists are never quite the same, and neither is the mood—one moment you’re in a folk reverie, the next you’re somewhere stranger. It’s not about spectacle or singalongs. It’s about the rare pleasure of watching an artist who seems to be discovering the songs at the same time you are. If you want a night that feels genuinely unrepeatable, this is it.