Highly Suspect deliver unforgettable night in snowbound Columbus
There was a storm bearing down on Columbus, Ohio. The kind of Midwestern brute that doesn’t negotiate. Snow came hard and sideways, piling up fast, turning highways into a game of low-speed bumper cars. Cars spun out and stalled, hazards blinking like distress signals. Those of us still pushing forward crawled along, white-knuckled, doing the math in our heads: how badly do I want to be there, and is it worth the risk?
Apparently, it was. Because despite the sub-freezing temperatures and the city being quietly buried, another storm was gathering. Highly Suspect was in town. And their people were coming.
This wasn’t just another tour stop. It was the ten-year anniversary of Mister Asylum—the record that cracked the door open for a Brooklyn-by-way-of-Cape-Cod band and let the world hear what they were capable of. Songs like “Lydia,” “Bath Salts,” and “Bloodfeather” didn’t just introduce Highly Suspect; they anointed them. Rock and roll with blues in its bones and regret soaked deep into the liquor soaked floorboards. To mark the occasion, the band stacked the night with Flight Attendant and Autumn Kings—both tasked with warming a crowd that had already braved a frozen hell to be there.
AUTUMN KINGS
Autumn Kings hit first. A four-piece from Canada that wasted no time getting to the point. They came out swinging: tight, aggressive, and unafraid to blur genre lines. Vocal duties traded between Joe Coccimigilo and Jake Diab in a way that felt familiar, but earned, like Sum 41 crashing head-on into Linkin Park. Screams ricocheted off pop-punk rhythms, rap verses snapped back with bite. When they launched into a cover of “Bleed It Out,” the room collectively held its breath. The question hung in the air like a banner. Can anyone really pull off that scream? Turns out, yes. And when it landed, it landed hard and with a roar of cheering.
FLIGHT ATTENDANT
Flight Attendant followed, shattering whatever preconceived notions you might have about Nashville bands. No twang. No polish. Just indie-leaning songs layered with grit, psychedelia, and the occasional scream. The five-piece moved like they belonged to the same nervous system with every member in motion, feeding off each other, pulling the crowd deeper in. Their set unfolded like a perfectly paced mixtape. The message was clear without ever being spoken: intensity doesn’t have to be heavy. Sometimes intensity is just movement. Sweat. A room full of strangers dancing together because it feels right.
HIGHLY SUSPECT
Then came the reason everyone risked the drive.
Highly Suspect took the stage to a roar that was well earned. The plan was ambitious and beautifully simple: Mister Asylum, front to back. No shortcuts. No nostalgia bait. Just the record, played the way it was meant to be heard. They opened with the title track, and nearly two thousand voices rose immediately to meet them. Lyrics were shouted, not sung—shared like passwords among people who’d carried them for a decade.
The band moved through the album with confidence and care, letting the crowd shoulder some of the emotional weight. After a brief intermission with enough time to grab a drink, thaw out, and catch your breath, Highly Suspect returned with a second act. A reward for the faithful. An unreleased track, “Must Be Nice,” landed with curiosity and approval, followed by staples like “My Name Is Human,” “Serotonia,” and “Mexico.” No filler. No wasted moments.
It was impossible not to notice what kind of loyalty this band inspires. These weren’t casual fans killing time on a Friday night. These were people who looked at a weather map and decided that music mattered more than comfort. That singing along in a room full of strangers was worth icy roads and missed exits.
And it was.
By the end of the night, the storm outside felt irrelevant. Inside, it was warm, it was loud. It was alive, and more importantly, it was human. A reminder that sometimes people will risk a lot just to stand together and scream the same words at the same time.
Highly Suspect, Flight Attendant, and Autumn Kings earned every mile driven, every slow crawl through the snow. And for a few hours in Columbus, the music won.
