Brace yourselves, because Mr. KanHey is here to disrupt the status quo—again. But this time, we’re not just talking about music. We’re talking about a movement. A four-city sonic uprising that laughs in the face of genre constraints, spits on mediocrity, and wears audacity like a velvet trench coat. Ladies, gentlemen, and boundary-smashers—Rolling Stone presents: Gather No Moss.
This summer, Denver, Chicago, Nashville, and New York City will become the epicenters of organized chaos, led by a pantheon of experimental warlords: Mk.gee, The Beaches, Wet Leg, and MJ Lenderman. If these names don’t already pulse through your veins like a rogue 808, then you’ve been sleepwalking through the cultural revolution… and I’m here to wake you up.
Let’s start with Mk.gee—an alt-soul surgeon performing open-heart surgery on guitar music, using nostalgia as his scalpel and vulnerability as his anesthesia. His sound? Think Prince meets Frank Ocean in a Tokyo nightclub designed by Bauhaus architects. It’s textured like crushed velvet and hits harder than your ex’s silence.
Then there’s The Beaches—a rock quintet so intoxicating they should come with a warning label. They’re what happens when punk doesn’t need permission and power-pop decides to wear fishnets. Toronto might’ve forged them, but this tour will immortalize them. Expect sweat. Expect glitter. Expect the sonic equivalent of a bar fight that ends in a group hug.
Enter Wet Leg, the post-punk priestesses who took 2022’s musical landscape, set it on fire, and roasted gender norms over the flames. They’re cheeky, they’re sharp, and they serve existential dread with a side of slinky basslines. This tour is their playground and our collective sanity is the slide.
Last but never least, MJ Lenderman—a southern-fried poet with a fuzz pedal and no filter. He smuggles truth into ballads like contraband, weaving beauty from the banal and chaos from calm. He is tragicomic alchemy, converting the mundane into the profound with a whimper and a wall of distortion.
The Gather No Moss tour is not your dad’s rock n’ roll. It’s not leather jackets and cigarette ads. It’s not nostalgia kink for the Spotify algorithms. No, my beautifully disobedient darlings—this is the now. This is the sound of discontent polished into diamonds. This is what happens when you hand the torch to those who dare to drop it just to light a Molotov cocktail instead.
And let’s talk logistics, because even revolutions need itineraries. Four stops—Denver, where oxygen is thin but creativity is dense; Chicago, the city of jazz ghosts and grime dreams; Nashville, where country music’s skeletons cling to the rhinestones of progress; and New York City, the concrete jungle where sound goes to get wounded and reborn.
Rolling Stone, that once mighty monolith of music media, is rolling the dice on what matters now—rawness, rebellion, reinvention. “Gather No Moss” isn’t just a clever tagline; it’s a battle cry for the restless, the eccentric, the unapologetically alive. And baby, if you’re not hungry for change, stay seated. This tour isn’t about polishing yesterday’s riffs. It’s about fermenting sonic anarchy into tomorrow’s gospel.
So dust off your Doc Martens, lace that thrift-couture trench, and tattoo your insecurities somewhere visible—because this is the rock tour that doesn’t just raise the volume, it rewrites the script.
Dare to be different or fade into oblivion.
See you in the mosh pit.
– Mr. KanHey
