Shakey Graves

Shakey Graves at The Rialto Theatre (4/2/2025)

By Justin Gallardo

Fade in.

The year was 2014, and from the dusty backroads to the flickering campfires, a new sound whispered through the winds. It was the kind of sound that wrapped around you like a well worn blanket, the kind you’d take on long drives, or share in the hush of midnight talks by the fire. The kind of sound you’d lose yourself in, drifting into a wild, untamed adventure in the heart of the night.

This was the world that Shakey Graves, or as the folks in his circles knew him Alejandro Rose-Garcia brought to life. His music felt like the heart of a person, torn wide open, sharing secrets long buried. The echo of guitars, fingers dancing across strings, a hint of country and a whole lot of soul each note cast a spell, pulling you into a place both timeless and raw.

Cut to a dusty Arizona town.

It was a cool evening, the kind where the air holds the scent of desert rain just about to fall. The old souls in the town dusted off their cowboy boots, tightened their bolo ties, and pulled their hats down low. You could almost feel the pulse of history in the air. That night, a hero was returning to a place he could very well call home.

Shakey Graves had made his way to Tucson, Arizona, bringing with him his masterpiece And The War Came. Ten years had passed, but the record’s power hadn’t waned. Tonight, it was more than just a show; it was a pilgrimage, a celebration of a journey that had taken him and his audience through heartache, growth, and everything in between.

Cut to the Rialto Theatre, April 2nd.

Now, how you found yourself at this particular place and time might’ve been a mystery. Maybe you wandered in by chance, or maybe you’ve been following Shakey Graves since the very first note but there we all were, gathered together, bound by the same spell. The night wasn’t just another show; it was a full, immersive experience, a celebration of ten years that was about to unfold in ways we never quite expected.

Shakey Graves, once a troubadour with an unruly guitar, had become more than just a musician. He had stepped into the roles of father, husband, mentor, and even film festival conjuror. A creator of spaces where his fans weren’t just spectators, they were part of the story. He’d given us the chance to craft our own short films, to breathe our own creative fire into the world, and in return, he shared his art with us, making us not just witnesses, but co-creators of this journey.

And when he stepped onto that stage, it was as if time slowed. What followed wasn’t a performance, it was an invitation. A raw, visceral, vulnerable journey that began the moment he appeared, unguarded and ready to lay bare every piece of himself. The audience held its breath, collectively pulled into his world, a world where every note carried the weight of years, of change, of growth.

This was no ordinary show. This was Shakey Graves, unfiltered and real, taking us on a ride we’d never forget.

The album, And The War Came, was about to unfold in its entirety, and we were all in for something special.The room felt intimate, the kind of quiet you only hear when every person is leaning in, hanging on every word. I could feel the collective breath of the packed venue, all of us connected by that single, delicate moment. The opening track, “Only Son,” began softly, its tender notes drifting into the air like the dancing smoke rising from a bonfire. That fire kept us warm all night as we experienced classics like “Dearly Departed”, “If Not For You” and “Family And Genus”.  

A true highlight for me came when my personal favorite, “House of Winston,” was given a raw, electrifying spin heavy on the guitar, louder and more powerful than I’d ever heard it before.  This was where it all started for me, the first time I heard that song, something shifted, and I knew right then that Shakey Graves would be with me for the long haul, woven into the soundtrack of my life. 

After performing the album in its entirety, he stripped it back for a few solo tracks, bringing out his signature bass kick drum suitcase to keep the beat alive. We were treated to the iconic “Roll The Bones,” and for many in the crowd, this was the moment they had been waiting for. But for me, I didn’t need any grand finale. Just being there, sharing the same space with an artist who pours his heart into every note, who stands vulnerable and honest in front of his fans, was more than enough. I was content just existing in that room, in that moment, with someone who truly loves what they do.

The end.

Originally published on hearitmedia.com