Lesbians of the Year: The Beaches sell out Webster Hall in New York City

Sabrina Amoriello

The Beaches dazzled Manhattan’s Webster Hall this past Monday with the first of two sold-out performances at the Union Square club scene landmark. The crowd pressed in tight, turning the cavernous venue into something warmer than a concert hall, more like a gathering of familiar souls rediscovering one another. There’s something singular about the audience The Beaches summon. The second you give yourself to the dance floor, every edge of anxiety dissolves; in its place, you’re wrapped in a communal embrace, suffocating and sweet, the kind you secretly hope never lets you go. The band doesn’t just invite acceptance–they command it, like an antidote against the world outside. 

Riding the current of their latest full-length, No Hard Feelings, The Beaches took to the stage with a confidence that glimmered even before the first note pierced the feedback. Watching them, you feel every step carrying weight–four women carving their names deeper into the floorboard of a hall already rich with history. Selling out Webster Hall two nights straight should feel like a pinnacle, yet it reads more like ignition. Their trajectory is sharp, fast, undeniable. Before long, arena calendars will bear their name in bold, and it won’t feel premature. No Hard Feelings might be only their third project, but fans are addicted, and live the songs well: more feral, more unrelenting, more alive. 

The night began with “Last Girls At The Party,” and though barely a month had passed since its release, the crowd sang it like scripture, every word shouted back with reckless devotion. It was a flawless opening, setting the tone for a night of breathless screams and unrestrained joy. Not even the photographers confined to the three-song rule dared to leave early; the pull was magnetic. Each member brought a spark impossible not to absorb: mischievous, buoyant, laced with the unspoken rhythm of a friendship that runs deeper than chords. Those clutching the barricade never loosened their grip, their voices hoarse but unwavering, as though the lyrics were oxygen itself. 

When the set slowed for “Lesbian of the Year,” the room shifted into reverence. Jordan Miller and Leandrea Earl, with only a piano as their anchor, sat on the reflective steps to share a heart-to-heart about love, about honesty, about the terror and relief of being seen. They spoke of coming out, of finding sanctuary in the band itself. The silence that followed was sacred, broken only by an eruption that felt like thunder rolling from every corner of the hall. A new song it may be, but already it has rooted itself in the marrow of their listeners. For me, it was the night’s unforgettable center. 

And still, it was only one story among many. Earlier, the band invited a fan on stage–a fan who had written about wanting to announce their queer relationship publicly. With the band’s blessing, they did, the declaration swallowed by a wave of cheers that felt less like noise and more like benediction. The Beaches don’t simply play for their fans; they create a sanctuary where everyone belongs. 

Later, with “Jocelyn,” the ritual continued. A fan from the barricade was chosen to be the night’s namesake–a fleeting second of recognition, yet coveted like a crown. The band stretched the suspense, letting the audience roar louder, dance harder, hoping to be chosen. On this night, it was a girl on the left side, her energy uncontainable, her reward both personal and communal. 

The encore sealed the night with “I Wore You Better” and “Sorry For Your Loss,” before circling back, fittingly, to “Last Girls At The Party.” We began at the party’s door and ended still inside its glow, unwilling to leave. Even after the final notes rang out, no one rushed to the streets. Strangers lingered, swapping stories and moments with one another as if they’d been friends for years. 

For some, the celebration continued into night two. For others, this was the only glimpse, and it gleamed brighter for its singularity. Until The Beaches return, the memory hums on: a reminder to be free, unapologetic, and love without hesitation.

Photographs: Sabrina Amoriello

Article: Sabrina Amoriello