There’s something mind blowing about a Good Neighbours show. The London-born duo composed of Oli Fox and Scott Verrill bring the spirit of a new age indie revival. Something dancing between lines of vulnerable nostalgia, and sounds that are absolutely danceable. Their sound stitches together the shimmer of synth-pop, the grit of alt-rock, and the open-hearted storytelling of modern indie. All landing somewhere between joyful magic and ache. When they took the stage at Crescent Ballroom in Phoenix, all labels fell away. The room became a sweat-soaked world of color and connection.

From the first notes of “Suburbs,”  the night was all catharsis. The song, a wistful reflection on growing up and the restless push to escape the familiar. It all unfolded beneath a wash of deep blue light. Drenching the stage like a deepening sea. That was the first hint of the night’s visual identity. Thick blocks of color that swallowed the band whole. Shifting from navy to emerald to crimson. Visually the lighting was emotional weather.

Good Neighbours’ energy is relentless. Purely magnetic. There’s no posturing, no rock-star detachment. They move like they’re charging the air around them. Sending every ounce of their rhythm straight into the crowd. By “Skipping Stones,” the audience was already moving as one. Each lyric bouncing between voices, hands in the air, and heads thrown back. “Ripple” turned the floor into a tide of movement. A song about small actions and their echoing. Full of glassy synth textures over rolling bass. Mimicking the feeling of what it would be like to stand inside a current. “People Need People” carried that message forward. An anthem for connection in an era of isolation. When Fox leaned into the mic to sing, “we’re just scared to say we’re lonely,” the line hit with the weight of truth. All  illuminated by a stark, heavenly white light.

The show’s middle stretch. “Bloom,” “Walk Walk Walk,” “Starry Eyed,” and “The Buzz”  was pure ignition. Each track built on the other. Full of tempos rising. The lighting turned saturated. “Bloom,” all about rebirth and self-growth. The song unfolded in gentle colors. “Walk Walk Walk,” with its pounding rhythm, arrived in a flashing scarlet. By “Starry Eyed,” the Crescent Ballroom crowd became lost in electric blue. Leaving the band glistening with sweat and joy. “Small Town” and “Wonderful Life” both played with that tension. Nostalgia laced with drive. Their lyrics are the sound of looking back while running forward. 

“Kids Can’t Sleep” was a dip into youthful insomnia. From feeling too alive, too full of dreams to rest. Then came The lights flared. Their silhouettes sharp against the haze. They closed the main set with “Home.” Its message is that home isn’t always a place but a feeling. The performance made it clear that this was a deeply beloved track. After a brief, loud pause, they returned for an encore. “Daisies.” As the first chords hit, voices joined in unison. The song bloomed outward. When music is built on heart and honesty it can move bodies, bridge strangers. That’s exactly what the band Good Neighbours brought to Phoenix, Arizona.