Article Contributed by L. Paul Mann
Published on 2026-02-21
Suzanne Vega | Santa Barbara, CA | February 14th, 2026 – photos by L. Paul Mann
There is perhaps no better sanctuary for the “Queen of Folk-Pop” than the Lobero Theatre in Santa Barbara. On February 14, 2026, as the city hummed with the predictable artifice of Valentine’s Day, Suzanne Vega offered something far more substantial: a masterclass in narrative precision and sonic atmosphere. Touring in support of her critically acclaimed 2025 release, Flying with Angels, Vega arrived not just as a legacy act, but as an artist still very much in her prime, possessing a voice that remains remarkably untouched by time—cool, clear, and observationally sharp.

Stepping onto the stage in her signature top hat and black ensemble, Vega opened the night with “Marlene on the Wall.” The choice served as a bridge between her mid-80s Greenwich Village roots and the more expansive, ethereal textures of her recent work. The set was a meticulously curated journey through her “Old Songs, New Songs & Other Songs,” featuring the hauntingly beautiful title track from the new album alongside the street-level grit of “Rats”—a punk-infused ode to the chaos of New York City that felt surprisingly at home in the historic California theater.

However, the true secret weapon of the evening was Vega’s longtime collaborator and guitarist, Gerry Leonard. Known to many for his decade-long tenure as David Bowie’s musical director, Leonard is a technician of the highest order. At the Lobero, he proved once again why he is the perfect foil for Vega’s rhythmic, percussive acoustic playing.

Leonard doesn’t merely “play guitar” in the traditional sense; he paints with it. Using a sophisticated array of loops and ambient textures, he transformed the duo—accompanied for several tracks by the sublime cellist Stephanie Winters—into a full-bodied orchestra. During “Small Blue Thing,” Leonard’s atmospheric swells created a shimmering underwater effect, giving the song a new, ghostly dimension. On “Blood Makes Noise,” his jagged, industrial-edged riffs provided the necessary tension to propel Vega’s anxious lyrics.

The emotional peak of the night was, unsurprisingly, “Luka.” Decades after it first broke through the noise of 1987, the song hasn’t lost its power to hush a room. Followed by a playful, minimalist rendition of “Tom’s Diner”—complete with the audience providing the iconic “doo-doo-doo-doo” refrain—the show felt less like a formal concert and more like an intimate conversation.

As the lights rose on the Spanish Colonial Revival architecture of the Lobero, the crowd filtered out into the cool Santa Barbara night. Vega and Leonard had provided the perfect Valentine’s antidote: a night that chose honesty over sentimentality, and artistic evolution over easy nostalgia.