Though frontman Ed Droste has called Los Angeles home for years now, Grizzly Bear as a band never considered this city their ‘base.’ But each member has lived in LA at some point in their lives. So, “[t]his is kind of a hometown show for all of us,” declared Daniel Rossen…or maybe it was Ed. Admittedly my notes from their recent show at the Shrine were excruciatingly vague. Wednesday night was enveloped by such a warm feeling that I couldn’t help but live fully in the moment. 

This isn’t a true concert “review” in the sense that there is nothing new to add or critique about the Grizzly Bear live experience. They are the standard for indie bands who have complicated studio compositions. That feels like too many qualifiers but they are simply a band without gimmick. The vast majority of the performance is played live, and if I were to guesstimate, Chris Taylor handled 80% of the variety of instruments, at least at the Shrine. I remember he wielded a guitar, clarinet, flute, two types of saxes, and I probably have forgotten others. Christopher Bear had very little breaks on the drum kit, wailing consistently in every song. Ed Droste and Daniel Rossen had their hands full as well on vocals, guitar, and synth and keys respectively. 

What’s most notable about their dedication to multi-instrumentation is their unwillingness to compromise on their sound and by extension, their identity. The fidelity of the show is near studio levels, with a light show to complement. The hits truly hit and even the lesser-appreciated songs proved just as entrancing. In fact, this performance was nearly indiscernible from when I saw them at Apogee Studio—yes, this was still technically a live performance, but my point remains: Grizzly Bear is a powerhouse live band. 

The Apogee performance was accompanied by an interview that I, as someone who has experience interviewing artists, affectionately remember as a laughable nightmare. Jason Bentley was overcome by his fandom for the chamber pop group and couldn’t articulate a meaningful dialogue about the band’s then-new record, Painted Ruins. Years later, I find myself similarly disappointed in the LA Times’ chronicle of their 2025 tour. Writer Emma Madden characterizes them as a bunch of plaid-laden old-timers with just one thing to relate to each other in the twilight of their lives—the band. 

It has been seven years since Grizzly Bear toured. In 2018, the band traveled across at least three continents from March to September to play a string of festivals, which bookended some dates supporting Spoon in the US northeast. Ed took to Instagram to comment on the success of the tour, beginning with the words:

The rant made headlines, because of course it did. And it was a valid story to report: financial success as an independent band is a myth. “[T]his is not a reflection on any concertgoer or fan,” Droste added in a follow-up post. “This is IMO about the middle men, of which there are more than ever that cut into the pie. I am so grateful to be able to perform for people for the amount of years I have, even at a loss (which we’ve done many times before).” 

So was it a surprise when Grizzly Bear quietly left the music scene entirely? Absolutely not. Band members were occupied with other endeavours even before Painted Ruins was recorded, so it made sense to shift focus and live their lives independently. (Droste is a practicing therapist, Bear is a film composer, Taylor shifted to production, and Rossen has a solo career. And it’s fun to include that Bear and Rossen collaborated on the score for the 2023 film Past Lives.) 

Needless to say, the 2025 tour announcement was a delightful surprise. It was intentionally planned as a limited run; Grizzly Bear would only play in five cities across three states. Fans were given plenty of lead-time to sell out the shows, and additional nights were added in Brooklyn and Chicago to meet the demand. Though I was ashamed that we could not sell out the Shrine, there was a proven appetite for the band to return. They couldn’t have known exactly how excited people would be, but I didn’t need to have spoken to the band to understand the reason they came back. They love each other despite all their past and current differences, and even if they didn’t, they love the music more. After so long away, it’s great to reinforce that feeling, and in its wake, the band may very well be on the path to making new music (if Madden is to be taken at her word). 

When the celebration finally reached the Shrine in Los Angeles, first on the stage was Ioanna Gika. Contrary to the LA Times’ assertion that Droste has “left music behind entirely,” Gika described her excitement about recording a new track with Droste, as well as her disappointment that it wasn’t ready for the show that night. Inevitably it will be a powerfully-produced alternative tune, based on her performance (as well as the preconceptions I had based on her 2019 album, Thalassa). Gika has the flexibility to diverge from structural expectations, using her falsetto to provide an existential pillar to lean on. And she brought her own ionic column to the show, topped with a Greek bust that hid her water bottle.

Before they joined the stage, I visited the merch table to spend more money than I intended. They printed new limited edition LPs of all of their records, of which I bought two in addition to the tour T-shirt. I was nearly upsold on their “Chin Up Cheer Up” tote bags to hold it all, but I had thought ahead and brought a reusable bag. Other items were also on sale, and all of it was going fast. 

By the time Grizzly Bear emerged to begin the show, the venue had sufficiently filled up, balancing the energy of the melodies filling the hall. It’s hard to imagine there was a single unsatisfied customer in the house, but an incident a few rows ahead of me suggested otherwise for at least a handful of folks. In the front-left of the orchestra, a man stumbled out of his row clutching what seemed to be a bloody nose after being presumably punched in the face. A few people followed him out and one of the friends made sure to gesture back with double birds (🖕🖕) before he was out of eyeshot.**

We may never know that story, but it didn’t detract from the night. At a certain point, the set list started playing crowd favorites, and everyone began to get extra antsy. The climax hit when Victoria Legrand appeared and sang along with the final four tracks of the regular set, including “Slow Life.” Excitement caused people to stand for a moment or for a bridge or for a chorus and then sit back down. This was a show filled with elder millennials after all. Not all of us have the back support to stand for too long anymore. Still, everyone honored the time-worn tradition of giving a standing ovation with ceaseless applause as if we still needed to earn an encore. 

The final song of the night projected simplicity yet represented this whole nuanced story. Taylor removed whatever instrument was strapped to him to join Droste at his microphone for a stripped down rendition of “All We Ask.” Rossen had an acoustic guitar and Bear played with just one skin. And it was still electric. Their voices form harmonies that could awaken hope in cold hearts. I can feel it now, days later, and I don’t want it to go away. If this is the last we hear from Grizzly Bear, it will be knowing that they gave all of themselves—from 2002 to today. 

** If you have any information about this bizarre interaction, please reach out. I like to gossip.

Grizzly Bear | SnG coverage | website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

Ioanna Gika | SnG coverage | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Soundcloud | Bandcamp