On Sept. 28, Tommy Lefroy fans at Montreal’s Le Ministère sent seismic sound waves across North America as the crowd chanted along to the duo’s ethereal and addictive harmonies.
With Wynter Bethel and Tessa Mouzourakis—who record as Tommy Lefroy—on electric guitar, and Blake Evans on drums, the hour-long set incorporated both of the band’s EPs Flight Risk (2021) and Rivals (2023) and a dreamy cover of Lana Del Rey’s “Norman Fucking Rockwell.” The show was divinely electric, powerfully precise, and most of all, unapologetically joyful.
Quebec-based musician and opener Claudelle prepared the audience with French pop tunes, while the tour’s supporting act Haley Blais initiated the night’s melancholy melodies. Blais also professed their love for Montreal bagels, arugula, and her home of British Columbia (BC) between songs “Baby Teeth” and “Coolest fucking bitch in town.”
Each artist expressed their love for the city’s culture. Bethel joked that after their dynamic opening set for indie pop star Samia at Le Studio TD last winter, the band begged their agent to return to Montreal for their North American headline tour. Since Mouzourakis grew up in British Columbia and Bethel hails from Northern Michigan, it was evident all the evening’s musicians hold their northern hometowns close.
Mouzourakis flaunts her Canadian roots in songs such as “Jericho Beach,” where the pair sings about the “seismic renovation” of British Columbia. Introducing the song, she recalled spending time at the spot in Vancouver that inspired the lyrics as a teenager, smiling as BC audience members cheered in recognition. Even more relatable was the description of flight anxiety in “Vampires.” The venue shook with the line “don’t mind the darkness, the ice, or the nightfall / Don’t worry the plane won’t go down out of Montreal.”
Beyond these Canadian ties, Tommy Lefroy’s unique audience resonance lies in the way they both literally and figuratively tell their fans “I’m just like you.” Bethel and Mouzourakis know what plagues their demographic: The crowd erupted with laughter as they dedicated their critique of a pseudointellectual “hopeless wordsmith” in “The Cause” to anyone who has dated someone with a liberal arts degree. Even their song order tells a story; they open their show with “The Mess,” detailing the realization that their experience of womanhood—the transformation into an emaciated disaster—is incongruent with its portrayal in media, and close their set with “Dog Eat Dog,” a satirical feminist anthem about stopping at nothing to get what you want. By structuring their critical account of gendered existence’s triumphs and tragedies as a cohesive narrative, the band invites their audience to collaboratively exorcize shared anxieties.
As self-professed superfans themselves, Bethel and Mouzourakis credit a shared love for indie supergroup boygenius—whose lyrics nod to Springsteen, the Bible, and literary inspirations—to be what drove Tommy Lefroy’s formation. The fact that their own references to “Springsteen ‘88,” “Take me out tonight,” and “Goliath” require interpretation is then by no means accidental.
This investment in fan culture pays off: Lyrics like these provide insight into Bethel and Mouzourakis’ artistic genesis while embedding Tommy Lefroy into a larger tradition of work.
Given that the very name Tommy Lefroy reanimates Jane Austen’s “heartbreaker muse” Thomas Lefroy, and warrants further analysis, it just makes sense that the band would use interactive literary platforms such as Goodreads to connect with fans. By considering the interpretive role of the fan in the legacy of their music, Tommy Lefroy makes use of their inherited genre, while leaning into their own unique literary feminist culture.
Though Bethel and Mouzourakis bind their work to their hometowns and inspirations, a Tommy Lefroy concert transcends individual experience. The band maps the personal onto the universal, and the universal onto the personal—their audience feels seen, and sees them too. Pay attention to the earnest nerd rock of Tommy Lefroy—their sword-like riffs are as mighty as their pens.
Tommy Lefroy’s music is available to stream on all platforms
