There’s something uniquely intimate about a show at Café Colonial in Sacramento. Tucked into a small venue space that practically glows with DIY charm, the latest leg of the Friendship Bracelet Tour features: Everybody’s Worried About Owen, The Last Arizona, June Henry, and openers Brianna Carmel and The Reverent Marigold. It was a night of catharsis, comfort, and queer magic.
The crowd, a cozy mix of alt and queer folks, created a safe and welcoming energy that made even first-timers feel like they belonged. The show kicked off with Sacramento’s own Brianna Carmel, whose punk-emo-inspired set featured a mix of originals and covers, grounding the night in raw vulnerability and hometown pride.
The Reverent Marigold, a trans-nonbinary folk artist from the Southwest, followed with a stunning and surreal set. Their originals like “JUDAS” and “Ahab, or the Whale” mixed folk-punk storytelling with poetic grit, but it was their unreleased track (complete with an audience-led chant of “F-U-C-K I-C-E”) that electrified the space. Rev. Mari’s voice and presence brought a grounded power that stuck with you long after the song ended.
Then came Everybody’s Worried About Owen, a standout moment of the night. With a rotating mix of fan favorites and unreleased tracks, Owen’s set felt both intimate and electric. Hearing “Mawce” live…a song that sparked a wave of resonance and visibility among trans listeners online was surreal and affirming. Other tracks like “Hydroplaning” and “Introducing Jonah to the Whale” showcased Owen’s emo-folk style and lyrical intensity, while news of an upcoming album and a move to Oregon left the crowd buzzing. West Coast fans, take note: Owen’s not going anywhere.
The Last Arizona followed with a warm, emotionally grounding set of original songs that brought a quieter intimacy to the room. While their performance leaned more subdued than some of the other acts, it was no less impactful. Their lyrics unfolded like quiet confessions, offering a soft landing near the close of the evening. There’s a patience and sincerity in The Last Arizona’s delivery that invites you to lean in, to listen harder.
Finally, June Henry closed out the night in a way only she could. Enchanting and deeply personal. Known for her minute-long viral track “void-adjacent,” June brought a blend of freak folk, lo-fi storytelling, and unflinching emotional honesty to the stage. Her unreleased songs felt like entries from a haunted diary, delicate but fearless. There’s something magnetic about the way June navigates her limerence, longing, and circus lore.
By the end of the night, it was clear this wasn’t just a concert, it was a communion of trans and queer artists and fans alike. Every set bled with care, creativity, and the kind of truth that rarely gets stage time. The Friendship Bracelet Tour lives up to its name: it’s stitched together with love, handmade vulnerability, and the promise that none of us are alone.
