Witnessing History at Proud Larry’s: MJ Lenderman and the Wind

A small-town show, a packed room, and the night I saw MJ Lenderman redefine what a live concert could be.

Have you ever been at a show and felt something shift, like you were witnessing history unfold in real time? That moment happened for me on February 2, 2025, when I saw MJ Lenderman and his band, the Wind, light up Proud Larry’s in Oxford, Mississippi.

For those unfamiliar, MJ Lenderman is a musician from Asheville, North Carolina, best known for his solo work and as the guitarist for the rising alternative band Wednesday. Lenderman has been releasing solo material since 2019, but it was his 2022 album Boat Songs that earned him critical attention from outlets like Pitchfork, The A.V. Club, and Rolling Stone. By 2023, he had signed with ANTI- Records. In the summer of 2024, he released Manning Fireworks, his fourth studio album, which launched him into a new stratosphere—major festival slots, sold-out tours, an appearance on The Tonight Show, and a Tiny Desk Concert for NPR.

When I saw Oxford’s Proud Larry’s listed as one of the stops on his 2025 spring tour, it felt like a small miracle. Most of the tour leaned heavily on iconic venues—the 9:30 Club in D.C., two nights at The Fonda in Los Angeles, The Orange Peel in Asheville. Proud Larry’s, a small restaurant and music venue that's been a fixture of the Oxford Square since 1993, stood out like a secret handshake to those who knew. I had to be there.

Although I’ve been a Master’s student at Ole Miss for two years, I hadn’t yet attended a show at Larry’s. I don't take in-person classes and live almost 90 minutes away. But after hearing Manning Fireworks, I knew it was time to make the drive. When doors opened at 5 p.m., I stood across the street and watched fans flood the venue, eager to secure a spot. Oxford on a Sunday is usually sleepy, especially outside of football season, but this night was different. Proud Larry’s buzzed with a kind of electricity you rarely catch unless you know where to look.

I was covering the show with a fellow Rebel Radio DJ, and when we stepped inside, I couldn’t believe how packed it was. She’s a regular at Larry’s and said she’d never seen it this crowded. Somehow, we lucked out and ended up just three rows from the stage after the opener, Wild Pink, played a terrific set.

At around 8 p.m., MJ and the Wind walked out. One band member lit incense, MJ sauntered onstage with a bottle of tequila, and they tore straight into “Wristwatch.” The crowd exploded. It was surprising—“Wristwatch” is one of his biggest songs, the kind you'd expect saved for an encore—but it was the perfect opener. It set the tone for the next ninety minutes: no pretense, just a tidal wave of raw, raucous energy.

The setlist moved fluidly between high-octane rockers like “Rudolph” and quieter, more contemplative songs like “Joker Lips.” They even threw in a cover of "Dancing in the Club" by Lenderman’s friend This is Lorelei. But what set this night apart wasn’t just the musicianship—it was the intensity of the crowd.

The venue was at capacity, and yet every single person was locked in. And I don’t say that lightly. I’ve been to well over a hundred shows in my life, and as a 24-year-old, I’ll admit—I usually prefer the older crowds. Most of the concerts I go to skew thirty and up: Jason Isbell, Drive-By Truckers, Lucero. Lately, at more Gen Z-leaning shows (Taylor Swift, Charli XCX, Twenty One Pilots), I’ve noticed a trend: concerts becoming less about the music and more about content creation. Phones everywhere, loud conversations, TikToks filmed mid-set.

But not here.

This crowd—made up of college kids, high schoolers, older fans, and even some father-daughter duos—was present. Sure, people took a few quick videos, myself included, but the phones stayed in pockets for most of the night. No one talked through the songs. No one treated the set like background noise to their Sunday night socializing. When the band leaned into the extended guitar feedback outro of “Bark at the Moon,” everyone stood still, completely engrossed. It felt almost sacred.

The loudest moment of the night came during “She’s Leaving You,” when the entire crowd screamed back every word. It gave me full-body chills. I cannot overstate how rare that is to experience, especially in a venue that small.

Part of what makes MJ Lenderman so special is his ability to bridge generations. His music pulls from the DNA of '90s college rock and Americana—his influences include Wilco, Drive-By Truckers, Neil Young, and Jason Molina. He makes songs that hit home for people in their twenties and for the parents who raised them on alt-country road trip playlists. Watching a college kid and their dad belt out lyrics side-by-side wasn’t just a heartwarming moment—it was a testament to the way Lenderman’s music connects.

For me, discovering Lenderman through the Drive-By Truckers felt like finding a kindred spirit. Most of the artists I love have been around since before I was born, so seeing someone close to my age carry that lineage forward is rare and thrilling. After the show, I had the chance to chat briefly with MJ and his bandmates. They were kind, humble, and genuinely excited about the music they were making. That conversation made the night feel even more special.

Since that night at Proud Larry’s, MJ Lenderman’s star has only risen. He performed “Joker Lips” on Jimmy Kimmel Live, was featured on Song Exploder, and is set to play festivals like Bonnaroo this summer. Seeing him in a 300-cap room in a sleepy Mississippi college town feels, in hindsight, like a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

If you take anything from this, let it be this: support the Proud Larry’s of the world. Go to the show, even if you have to drive an hour and a half on a Sunday night. Pay attention to the new kids on the block. You might just catch the moment when history happens—and if you are lucky, you’ll be right there, singing along.