logo
Who is MJ Lenderman, rising singer who has captured attention of Gen Z and critics alike?

Who is MJ Lenderman, rising singer who has captured attention of Gen Z and critics alike?

USA Today16-05-2025
Who is MJ Lenderman, rising singer who has captured attention of Gen Z and critics alike?
MJ Lenderman took the indie music scene by storm last September with his album "Manning Fireworks," capturing the hearts of listeners and critics alike. It's not just Gen Z under the 26-year-old's spell – at his May 15 sold-out show at the 9:30 Club in Washington, DC, there didn't seem to be any demographic immune to his nonsensical yet vivid lyricism and unsuspecting charm.
Lenderman's poignant storytelling is delivered via stripped-back guitar riffs and gritty folk rock anthems, hiding behind absurd imagery. On "Wristwatch," he sings, "I've got a houseboat docked at the Himbo Dome / And a wristwatch that's a pocket knife and a megaphone / And a wristwatch that tells me I'm on my own." It's hard to tell whether to laugh or cry to his music, to feel empathetic for the narrator or judge him for his stagnancy.
But the Asheville, North Carolina musician, who is also a member of the beloved indie rock band Wednesday, is doing something right. Seemingly simple experiences become profound through the Lenderman's pen, such as sitting under a "half-mast McDonald's flag," and fans flocked to the 9:30 Club to witness his magic with their own eyes. The nightclub, where iconic acts like Nirvana, Red Hot Chili Peppers and R.E.M. once played, was filled Thursday night.
MJ Lenderman gets lost in his live performance, but fans stay in on 'the bit'
In his live performance, Lenderman seems oblivious to the doting audience latching onto his every word. He looks down for the majority of his set, his face scrunched, focused on the lyrics as if he were writing them in the moment. His nonchalant demeanor gives a sense of passion and impulsiveness necessary for both the ridiculousness and heaviness of his lyrics, driven by gut instincts rather than regard for rhyme or reason.
In a July 2024 interview with "The Guardian," he revealed his desire to evade the spotlight: "Visibility and stuff, that's not really something I've been after."
So when he sings the song, 'You Are Every Girl to Me,' it's hard to imagine he's serenading any particular audience member, unlike at shows from heartthrobs like Harry Styles, where fangirls (harmlessly) imagine he's there to swoon only them. But even without locking eyes, his band plays in perfect synchrony; and, all the couples in the audience pulled their loved ones a little closer, whether it be friends, lovers, or the father-daughter duo standing next to my sister and me.
The few moments of eye contact during 'You Don't Know the Shape I'm In' were almost jarring. It felt like being woken up from a trance, lending an intimacy to the lyrics, 'All you had to do was be nice… Be nice to me.'
On 'Bark at the Moon,' the 10-minute finale to 'Manning Fireworks,' he pleads, 'You're in on my bit / You're sick of shtick? / Well what did you expect?' The second half of the song – both on the recording and during the live performance – includes nothing but distortion, swirling minutes of feedback into a rowdy crescendo, eventually bleeding into the short track 'I Ate Too Much at the Fair" during his live set.
So were we, as an audience, also sick of Lenderman's gimmick? At 9:30 Club, the opposite was true. When he asked if anyone planned to come again the next night, the better half of the crowd cheered.
'It's gonna be a late night,' he joked, referencing that the doors for the May 16 show don't open (fittingly) until 9:30 p.m.
When he interacted with the audience, glimmers of his whimsical personality shone.
'Thank you all so much, it's awesome to be with you,' he told the crowd towards the end of his set. 'What's the thing when you ask the crowd what you want to hear? A request.'
Fans began shouting out deep cuts, but the fiddler shut them down: 'The request lines are closed. We still love you.'
'I think you guys are really going to like these songs, I hope,' Lenderman promised. 'You've been a great crowd, and you still are," he added, chuckling at his own sentiment.
The 'Turkey Brothers' steal the encore with a boisterous jam
As fans begged for an encore to an empty stage, an unlikely guest took center stage.
The fiddler, Landon George, freestyled a rhythmic jam, introducing himself and a few of Lenderman's bandmates as the "Turkey Brothers" from Hall Creek, taking us on a journey through DC's history and a story of a band of brothers on a remote farm, dependent on dial-up internet.
At his sold-out show in New York City on April 25, Lenderman brought out state Assemblyman Zohran, a member of the Democratic Party and the Democratic Socialists of America, and a mayoral candidate.
During the Turkey Brothers' performance on May 15, George sang, 'You gotta have hope if you're gonna keep it going forward. You gotta have hope if you're gonna do anything about fascism,' before descending into a fiddle jam.
'Have you ever heard a grease fire on the fiddle?' he teased. 'It sounds kind of like this.'
George's solo culminated in a symphony of squeaks before MJ Lenderman returned to the stage for a two-song encore. 'Give it up for the Turkey Brothers,' he cheered.
Ending the night with "Dancing in the Club," a song written by and performed with Nate Amos of This if Lorelei, the energy in the room stayed high. It seemed as if it would be trapped there until the next night's performance, bouncing off the walls until the crowd could sing lyrics like, "Once a perfect little baby / Who's now a jerk ' Standing close to the pyre manning fireworks," again.
MJ Lenderman: 2025 tour setlist
Lenderman and his band have been changing the setlist order for each show, but the general list of songs has remained the same.
Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

New TikTok trend shows how desperate millennials are to be like Gen Z
New TikTok trend shows how desperate millennials are to be like Gen Z

New York Post

timean hour ago

  • New York Post

New TikTok trend shows how desperate millennials are to be like Gen Z

Over the last decade, somewhat of a war has grown between Millennials and Gen Z-ers when it comes to fashion and beauty trends. Skinny jeans vs wide leg jeans. Side parts vs middle parts. Ankle boots vs cowboy boots. Advertisement And, for the most part, Millennials have succumbed to the preferences of their younger and 'trendier' counterparts, pushed by the societal pressure to appear younger. But, a trend taking over TikTok has proven that this shouldn't be the case. 'How old do I look?' 5 Millennials have succumbed to the preferences of their younger and 'trendier' counterparts, pushed by the societal pressure to appear younger. master1305 – As of recently, women – and always women – have been coming up on my For You page asking one seemingly simple question: 'How old do you think I look?' Advertisement Now, if this isn't a dangerous question, I don't know what is – particularly in an age of social media where we're so over-exposed to filler and filters to the point where those aging naturally are often perceived to look older than they really are. But, it's not the asking that's the dangerous part — it's the aftermath. 'This is not helpful anymore' TikTok user @ took to the app this week to participate in the 'how old do I look' trend. Advertisement Sonia posted a series of photos — with make-up and without — with the caption 'How old do I look? Don't worry about hurting my feelings, just want the truth'. The video has so far accumulated close to 500,000 views, along with thousands of comments telling her she looked as old as 55. The problem is, she's 35. 5 TikTok user @ took to the app this week to participate in the 'how old do I look' trend. Tiktok/@ Advertisement Sonia has since posted multiple videos changing different aspects of her look. First, it was changing her make-up — getting rid of her eyeliner and switching to a glowier base. 'U have similar features and tones to me. I think this is a GREAT improvement tbh. I'd skip the bottom mascara, and let your nice looking eyes shine!' said one commenter. So, she did that, too. 5 Sonia has since posted multiple videos changing different aspects of her look. Tiktok/@ 'On the right path but I think it's the hair,' said another. And Sonia posted a variety of hair color options for her followers to choose from. While Sonia did state how insightful the experience has been for her, sharing in a video that she suffers from facial paralysis and is on a 'journey to be the best version of herself', she also changed the caption and turned off the comments on her original video hitting back at offensive commenters. Advertisement 'This is not helpful anymore,' she wrote. 5 Other TikTok user @carrieshade posted last month asking how old she looked. 'That was exhausting…I just wanna work on myself after what I have been through. Too many faceless profiles and overly filtered ppl commenting. I just wanted to get some feedback on how to grow and improve. 'Some of you have really been awesome, I thank you. And it's been so far really helpful to get ur tips. I'm working on it and taking the journey now to make myself up to date.' No one is safe Advertisement Sonia isn't the only person who's been bitten by the 'how old do I look' trend. Creator @carrieshade, age 29, posted last month asking how old she looked, garnering a host of brutal comments. '28, from your face, but, with your hair style, glasses and outfit… 32-34,' said one person. Advertisement 5 @justpeachy779 created a whole series out of drastically changing her look after a scathing 'how old do I look' video. 'I could tell when your hair was off your face and glasses were gone and you posed that you were in your 20s, but the hair, glasses and shirt made me I initially think you were 35ish,' said another. 'Glasses give 40s, shirt gives 60+, everything else mid 20s,' said a third. @justpeachy779 created a whole series out of drastically changing her look after a scathing 'how old do I look' video, prompted by someone asking if she had grandchildren despite only being 40. Now, with the approval of her commenters, she dons the label 'glow up expert'. It's okay to look your age! Advertisement The 'how old do I look' trend isn't all bad. If you want to know how to update your look, it's a surefire way to get some honest (probably too honest) feedback. And, there's nothing inherently wrong with wanting to look young, or keep up with trends — unless you don't really want to. If you're in need of a reminder, you don't need to look 20 at 40. But, if you do want to, maybe take TikTok's advice with a grain of salt — Gen Z's beauty advice sometimes takes 'keyboard warrior' to the next level, and chances are, your eyebrows aren't making you look 75.

Adults Have Always Wondered If the Kids Are Alright
Adults Have Always Wondered If the Kids Are Alright

Atlantic

timean hour ago

  • Atlantic

Adults Have Always Wondered If the Kids Are Alright

This is an edition of Time-Travel Thursdays, a journey through The Atlantic 's archives to contextualize the present. Sign up here. The writers of The Atlantic have a long history of fretting about the youths. Take one 1925 article, which began with a call for reason: a promise to judge fairly whether modern young adults were truly as delinquent as everyone seemed to be saying. 'They are under suspicion on the counts of, briefly, dancing, drinking, kissing, motoring alone and often at night ('alone' means two together),' the author, identified only as 'A Professor,' declared. 'In the case of girls, dress is included, or rather, going about with legs and arms bared.' Of the drinking charge, young people seemed to be absolved. Certainly they were imbibing, but less than their elders—and they'd developed new etiquette to keep things under control. ('A really nice girl may drink cocktails in public,' the writer explained, 'but not whiskey and soda.') On the other counts, unfortunately, the Professor didn't let them off so easily: 'Legs are no more interesting than noses' when young ladies wear skirts this short. 'The sad truth is that the human frame has ceased to be romantic.' Oh, and this new generation, in addition to diluting sex appeal, reportedly lacked intellectual curiosity. Also emotion: 'There seems no doubt that these young things feel less, on the whole, and do more, than once did we.' That was just one story in a whole canon of writing, published here and elsewhere, that has professed concern for young people—but with an undercurrent of condescension, even disdain. In a 1975 classic of the genre, the conservative journalist Midge Decter described the young hippies around her as coddled to the point of incompetence, having used the idea of a countercultural movement to get away with doing nothing much at all. 'Heaped with largesse both of the pocketbook and of the spirit,' she wrote, 'the children yet cannot find themselves.' All those writers who peer at the youths, squinting through their binoculars and scribbling in their notepads, make up an embarrassing lineage. Recently, I've been wondering if I'm part of it. I write fairly often about Gen Z, sometimes worriedly —but I'm a Millennial. I didn't have iPads around when I was a child; I wasn't scrolling on Instagram in middle school. I'd already graduated college and made new friends in a new city when the pandemic hit. I'm still examining contemporary young adulthood from the inside, I've told myself. But a few days ago, I turned 30. Technically, I'm in a new life phase now: ' established adulthood.' Where's the line between ogling and empathizing? And how do you describe trends—which are broad by definition—without using too broad a brush? The young people of the 1970s arguably were, on the whole, more interested in challenging norms than their parent's generation had been; that seems worth documenting. Any dysfunction that came along with that may have been worth noting too. (Joan Didion clearly thought so.) Likewise, the Professor wasn't wrong that social mores were transforming with each successive generation. Legs were becoming more like noses, and that's the honest truth. The task, I think, is to write with humility and nuance—to cast young adults not as hopefully lost or uniquely brilliant and heroic, but just as people, dealing with the particular challenges and opportunities of their day. In 1972, The Atlantic published a letter from a father who jokingly wondered how the youths described in the papers could possibly be the same species as his children. 'Not long ago the president of Yale University said in the press that when the young are silent it means they are feeling 'a monumental scorn' for political hypocrisy,' he wrote. 'When my son, Willard, Jr., is silent, I am never sure what it means, but I believe that he has his mind considerably on sexual matters and on methods of developing the flexor muscles of his upper arms.' Readers have always been able to tell the difference between real curiosity and zoological scrutinizing. They know when a stereotype rings hollow. Just rifle through the five pages of responses to Decter's story, which The Atlantic published with headlines such as 'Sentimental Kitsch,' 'Hideous Clichés,' and—my personal favorite—'Boring and Irrelevant.' One reader told Decter, with bite, not to worry so much about those wild children who weren't settling down in their jobs and houses like good boys and girls. 'Rest assured,' he wrote, 'my generation will be like hers—led by the silent, nervous superachievers, intent on their material goal, lacking the time to question the madness of their method.' The characterization is cutting. But that letter also raises another good point: Young people are not immune to oversimplifying, either. They'll eventually get old enough to write about their elders, and to include their own sweeping generalizations and nuggets of truth. 'I wonder what will be written in 1995 about our children. I get the feeling we will make the same mistakes,' another reader wrote to Decter. 'For isn't that the American way?'

Kai Cenat & Crew Take Over Tony Parker's Texas Mansion For ‘AMP Summer' Streaming Marathon
Kai Cenat & Crew Take Over Tony Parker's Texas Mansion For ‘AMP Summer' Streaming Marathon

Black America Web

time4 hours ago

  • Black America Web

Kai Cenat & Crew Take Over Tony Parker's Texas Mansion For ‘AMP Summer' Streaming Marathon

Source: Slaven Vlasic / Getty Kai Cenat already has Gen Z on the edge of their computer chairs, and isn't letting up with his latest streaming event. His next big venture has been dubbed the AMP Summer, and he announced it via a trailer a few days ago. Set in the sweltering Texas desert, the AMP (Any Means Possible) crew, consisting of him, Duke Dennis, Chrisnxtdoor, Fanum and ImDavisss in their broken-down RV. Agent00 narrates the crew attempting to fix their ride when T-Pain arrives on horseback to offer them a nearby crib to stream from that's outfitted with a 24-hour restaurant, two basketball courts, and a waterpark where they promise to stream for 12 hours daily for a month, officially kicking off at 1 p.m. on July 1. Since they're in the Lone Star State, there's no better way to kick off the marathon than by hanging out with Texas legend and former San Antonio Spurs star Tony Parker. Upon arrival, the four-time NBA champion shows the AMP crew around his estate, showcasing his superhero memorabilia, what he calls his 'secret championship room,' which features all the sports goods from his storied NBA career, and the 24-hour Nando's restaurant in the backyard. With as many hijinks and guests the AMP squad gets involved with, they'll need a lot of space for their antics, and the championship-worthy home should be plenty big. Spanning 53 total acres, the property features a private water park, including lazy rivers, and boasts 10 bedrooms, eight bathrooms, and four half bathrooms. The house also features a nearly 6,000-square-foot gym, a tennis court, an outdoor volleyball court, a basketball court, and a wine room that can accommodate up to 1,500 bottles. Parker listed the compound for $16.5 million in 2024, but the former Spur clearly hasn't found anyone interested in taking it off his hands. Parker even hung out with the streamers in the home's restaurant, telling them about the time Kobe Bryant learned French to trash-talk him during the playoffs. 'It didn't work, but mad respect he learned the language,' Parker said. The streaming has already commenced with Cenat revealing his setup for the entirety of July, which is literally a super-sized version of his Atlanta home, including the white walls and greyscale leopard carpet. There's even a massive computer chair placed in front of his desk that's so large several members of the crew can sit comfortably as their feet dangle. See social media's response to Cenat's latest streaming move below. Kai Cenat & Crew Take Over Tony Parker's Texas Mansion For 'AMP Summer' Streaming Marathon was originally published on

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store