Article Contributed by June Jameson
Published on 2026-03-26
I couldn’t help but wonder, what if the groove keeps us all together while the world tries to keep us apart? What if a club like Garcia’s Chicago shows up as the right room at the exact moment that you need a place to belong?
LaMP returned to Garcia’s Chicago for a weekend of shows beginning on Friday night, 3/20/26. It’s been a year since they first visited Garcia’s at their grand opening. Above us, birthday balloons. One year. One whole year of this place existing, and somehow, I can’t remember life before it. Which made me think… is it the music that keeps us coming back, or the version of ourselves we get to be inside the room?
It was a fabulous soiree, a clam jam, a girl gang takeover. You know, the opposite of a sausage fest. Jazz, rock, just smooth freshness delivered with a smile and the sense of safety this room in the West Loop of Chicago delivers.
The LaMP was warm when I arrived, like a preheated oven ready to bake us something delicious. Their Midwest run of shows brought familiar spring snowstorms to Wisconsin, but tonight in Chicago was unseasonably warm. “Some Days” was sizzling as I walked in. I realized the evening had begun without me, which was fine because I had cruised out late after work and luckily found easy parking right there on Washington. Not too shabby!
The second song hit, and suddenly, there it was – that groove. You know the one. The kind that just includes you. Just like that, I was the girl who walked in thinking I wouldn’t know anybody here, but that didn’t stop me from feeling included, like I was someone. Funny how that happens. It was an hour into the show, and the groove hit a classical tone. High society for sure, but I ain’t talking about the pearls and politeness way. It was more like chaos in high heels. From a smoky speakeasy to church, right into some sort of spooky boardwalk carnival. It was Beetlejuice meets Springsteen with a side of how did I get here and why do I love it so much? Yes! I will have a birthday cake milkshake! Thank you!
WOLF! cover “Pork n Slaw” came after “Mimi Digs It” and I started to wonder – maybe capitalism isn’t the villain of the story after all. Maybe it’s just the cover charge for connection. This time last year, Garcia’s was brand new. The spring storms rerouted LaMP’s merchandise to gawd knows where. Long story short, the merch never arrived, so the band DIY’d t-shirts. They purchased materials from a going-out-of-business Joanne’s Fabrics, using their hotel hair dryers to get it done in time for the show. Folks flocked to buy their one-of-a-kind mementos from the show at this new Chicago club.
Somewhere in between “Clipse – O,” not to be confused with “Clipse Daddy,” and “Jasper’s World,” I met Amy. She recognized who had created my Itchy and Scratchy hoodie. Thank You, Annie White! Lovely to meet you, Amy. I was glowing from the compliment while I watched the bar operate with choreographed complexity. Diane was overflowing with plenty of officially licensed LaMP merch. On stage, Russ Lawton was stretching out his notes into a conversation we were all engaged in.
All these invitations to connection and suddenly social capital in a trustworthy environment felt a lot more valuable than crypto, bro.
“Tango” closed out the 1st set like an electric daffodil crescendo crescent rolling into Chicago. Spring is blooming in Chicago, and it sprouted on Friday night, 3/20. Logic left the building, and honestly, good riddance. The beautiful gal in her Keith Herring shirt and red mini skirt was overheard saying, “It’s all part of the journey.” We, in the ladies’ room, all mutually decided that we had overheated while dancing to that last tune. It sounded like the 60s. We all fell into each other’s lives while waiting for a bathroom stall to open up.
Here’s the thing no one tells you about going out alone to a show: the moment the music locks in, you’re not alone anymore.
The second set opened with a favorite tune, the opening track off One of Us, “Cosmo.” It is the perfect beckon back to the call of music when life is happening on the margins. In a room like this, ambition and awe coexist. It’s no Rolling Stones – even if Russ Lawton could easily have subbed for Charlie Watts. It’s not trying to be. It’s clean. It’s cool. The lack of lyrics created its own mythology in the moment.
“Nice Girl (Walks Loud)” and “One of Us” were like a mid-evening outfit change. Suddenly, we weren’t whispering anymore. Things got messy in the best way. I ran into the street team, all eager to scene and be seen. We got to gabbing the way you do when the room holds you in like a hug. The whole experience widened, off the stage, in between the tables, into the corners, and onto the bars.
I couldn’t help but wonder, is the setlist what is being played, or is it an outline for who you encounter while we all whimsically play?
After the show, Russ Lawton – yes, that Russ, the quiet engine behind it all – wandered over and started talking with us about drummer Jim Gordon. Brilliant. Complicated. A drummer whose legacy carries both light and shadow.
And I couldn’t help but ask… don’t most musicians walk that fine line?
Russ agreed. Calmly. Honestly. When I asked about his own mental health, he didn’t dodge it – he met it. Said he was okay. Assured, grounded. And still… the thought lingered.
Because brilliance, real brilliance, so often comes with a certain sensitivity. A way of feeling the world just a little too much. And standing there, watching it all unfold, I realized something: Russ Lawton is brilliant. Not in the flashy, headline-grabbing way. But in the steady, soul-deep way that holds everything together while the rest of us dance, talk, fall into each other’s lives for a few songs at a time.
Around us, balloons floated, and a quiet reminder. It’s been one year. One year of music, of moments, of becoming. I caught glimpses of life moving in and out of focus like a film you don’t want to end. It’s just that feeling. And as the night softened and slipped back out into the Chicago air, I couldn’t help but wonder…
If a band gives you the soundtrack,
and a place gives you the setting,
and the people give you the plot…
Is that what makes a life?
Or just a really, really good night?
