REVIEW: Kilby Block Party 2026

For a festival that began as a celebration of a beloved Salt Lake City DIY venue, 2026 felt like the year Kilby Block Party fully settled into its identity as one of the most thoughtfully curated festivals in the country. The weekend never chased scale for its own sake. Instead, Kilby succeeded by understanding the increasingly rare art of pacing: massive headliners, cult favorites, reunion-adjacent nostalgia, and emerging acts all woven together without ever feeling algorithmically assembled. The result was a festival that felt expansive without losing the intimacy and sense of discovery that made attendees care about it in the first place.

Kilby Block Party attendees, by Keira Lindgren

The headliners justified the anticipation. Lorde delivered a festival-closing performance that reminded everyone why her absence from touring has created a vacuum in pop music. Her set balanced theatrical scale with emotional precision, turning the Fairpark into what felt like a collective singalong between old friends. Earlier in the weekend, Turnstile transformed the grounds into total chaos in the best possible sense, their set radiating the kind of energy many festivals spend years trying to manufacture. Meanwhile, The xx delivered a hypnotic, restrained performance that proved minimalism can still feel enormous when handled by musicians with a certain level of chemistry.

The xx, by Keira Lindgren

What separated Kilby from so many larger festivals was how seriously it treated the undercard. Sets from Japanese Breakfast, Lucy Dacus, and Blood Orange carried the same level of audience investment as many headlining slots elsewhere. Alex G turned his evening set into one of the weekend’s emotional high points, while Hayley Williams delivered a performance that felt both polished and completely loose at the edges, leaning into the freedom of her solo material without sacrificing the charisma that made her a festival mainstay to begin with. Even legacy acts like Modest Mouse and American Football felt refreshingly purposeful rather than nostalgic filler.

The festival’s most impressive achievement, though, may have been how naturally emerging artists coexisted with established names. The Last Dinner Party played with the confidence of a band already operating several tiers above their billing. Jane Remover and Feeble Little Horse represented the noisier, internet-shaped edge of contemporary indie music without feeling tokenized or quarantined to early afternoon slots. On the Desert and Kilby stages, artists like Die Spitz and Gelli Haha generated the kind of word-of-mouth momentum that has become central to Kilby’s reputation. You could walk across the grounds at virtually any hour and stumble into a crowd reacting like they’d just discovered their new favorite band.

Gelli Haha, by Keira Lindgren

Among those discoveries, Gelli Haha emerged as one of the weekend’s most captivating acts. While wrapping up a North American tour and prepping to play the European festival circuit, her sets thrive on unpredictability, moving between wiry post-punk rhythms, art-pop textures, and bursts of theatrical chaos without ever feeling self-conscious. What could have easily come across as novelty instead landed with total conviction, helped by a performance style that felt both unpolished and completely in command. By the middle of the set, the crowd had grown noticeably larger, pulled in by the kind of curiosity that Kilby will always reward.

Ben Kweller, by Keira Lindgren

A similar spirit carried into Ben Kweller’s set, which felt quietly restorative amid a weekend built on discovery and reinvention. Kweller, who is about to embark on the Europe/UK leg of his Cover The Mirrors Tour, performed both longtime staples and some recent work. He leaned into the warmth and looseness that have always made his live shows resonate with fans. His performance thrived on familiarity, sharp songwriting, and the kind of easy connection that can only come from years onstage. For newer artists scattered across the lineup, Kweller’s presence also served as a reminder of the lineage running through much of the festival’s indie ethos, linking generations of musicians together.

Atmosphere remains Kilby’s greatest differentiator. Unlike many corporate festivals that now feel designed primarily around VIP logistics and branded activations, Kilby still operates with the temperament of a music fan’s festival. The crowd skewed deeply engaged rather than passive, bouncing between hardcore pits, hushed indie-folk sets, and late-evening dance grooves. The expanded festival grounds helped reduce congestion without sterilizing the experience, allowing the weekend to feel remarkably breathable despite the size of the crowds.

Kilby Block Party attendees, by Keira Lindgren

Beach Bunny, by Keira Lindgren

That openness between stages and genres also gave many of the weekend’s earlier performances room to become genuine crowd highlights rather than background noise. Beach Bunny delivered an extremely engaging set, transforming the afternoon crowd into a mass of shouted lyrics and restless movement. Frontwoman Lili Trifilio led the performance with an easy confidence, letting the band’s sharp hooks and emotionally direct songwriting carry the momentum rather than relying on spectacle. Fresh off a new single with Aly & AJ, and about to embark on a US tour, their blend of bright, guitar-driven indie pop and anxious, deeply personal lyricism felt perfectly suited to Kilby’s atmosphere, drawing in longtime fans and newer listeners alike.

What lingered in Salt Lake City after the final night was the clarity of the festival’s perspective. In an era when many festivals have flattened into interchangeable playlists with food trucks attached, Kilby continues to book with conviction with the understanding that a great festival doesn't have to rely on headliners alone. The festival trusted its audience to care about discovery as much as spectacle, and the crowd responded in the form of mosh pits, singalongs, and openness. re

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Photos by Keira Lindgren