The title of Ratboys‘ instant-classic 2026 album Singin’ To An Empty Chair refers to a therapeutic exercise in which a patient talks to an imagined person. “So this empty chair that I was singing to is meant to represent a close loved one who couldn’t be there for any host of personal reasons,” Ratboys frontwoman Julia Steiner told NPR in February. “But for me, it was a way to have a conversation that I wasn’t quite ready to have in real life and kind of get started figuring out what I wanted to say and how I feel.”
In a separate interview with Stereogum, Steiner explained that beyond just therapy, she saw the record as a physical object that could be used to reach its estranged inspiration. “The idea was: Wouldn’t it be nice to have a record as an update on what my life is like, or an invitation to reconnect and a place to start?” she said. “One idea I had was, once we have the physical CDs, to send it in the mail and include a short note and say, ‘Here, this is what I’ve been working on.'”
The idea of a work of art—in this case, a near-flawless album of ’90s- and alt-country-inspired indie-rock—as both personal reckoning and interpersonal olive branch is an alluring one. Art as a tool. Art with tangible utility. Art as a “Here, this is what I’ve been working on” life update. And if it comes in the form of a physical CD, even better.
But what about the utility of performing said art live for a roomful of strangers? Steiner and her fellow Ratboys did just that Saturday night at Vivarium. The more-or-less-sold-out, stuffed-to-the-rafters show represented the final gig of the first leg of the band’s “When The Sun Explodes Tour.” Last seen in Milwaukee during Summerfest 2025, the Chicago group seemed loose, relaxed, and road-tested confident. Only Steiner knows what performing songs from Empty Chair actually “does”—can relationships be remotely mended via rapturous applause and extended guitar solos?—but the Vivarium crowd loved every note.
Opener Florry kicked the evening off with a winning and occasionally shambling and noisy set (complimentary). With songs like “First It Was A Movie, Then It Was A Book” and “Truck Flipped Over ’19,” Florry answered the burning question, “What would Ratboys sound like if they were from Philly instead of Chicago, leaned even harder in the alt-country direction, and were drunk and high?” Fantastic stuff, no notes. Check out the excellent Sounds Like… from 2025 today.
Ratboys opened their set, appropriately enough, with Empty Chair opener “Open Up.” “What’s it gonna take to open up tonight?” Steiner sang to the adoring crowd. Every song from the new 11-track record—save closer “At Peace In The Hundred Acre Wood—made appearances during the 90-minute show, as did a handful of songs from 2023’s The Window and other earlier releases. Highlights included the ’90s alt-rock-radio crunch of “Know You Then” and “Light Night Mountains All That,” the head-bopping pop of “Anywhere,” and the heartbreaking melancholy of “Just Want You To Know The Truth.” “A couple some odd years ago, you said, ‘Sweetie take your time,'” Steiner sang during the latter song. “So now I’m singin’ to an empty chair, bleedin’ out every line.” Steiner, the band, and the room all sounded terrific. It was a stellar show, full stop.
Speaking of utility, what about the idea of art as an agent for change? Music as revolution? Gatherings as protest? Steiner put those theories to the test late in Ratboys’ set when she took time to address “the state of things today.” “As you know, things in our country are pretty unprecedented right now as far as authoritarian government takeovers go,” she said. “It’s pretty simple—the goal is to just keep people safe. Every human being deserves that,” she concluded to ear-splitting cheers.
Taking her message beyond just lip-service, Steiner briefly gave the stage over to Milwaukee Alliance Against Racist and Political Repression organizer Alan Chavoya. Chavoya wasted no time in leading the crowd in a rowdy chant of “Fuck ICE!” and “Chinga La Migra!” “Right now, our main enemy is ICE,” he said. “We saw what they did in Chicago, in L.A., the Twin Cities. They’re not friends of the people. They’re not here to keep us safe. Who’s here to keep us safe?” “WE ARE!” the crowd roared in return.
There was a call to action and organization, but there was more music, too. Ratboys’ main set ended, once again appropriately, with Empty Chair track “Burn It Down.” “We gotta burn it down / Hands off our fuckin’ mouths / We gotta burn it down,” Steiner intoned throughout the outro. By the time the band ended its two-song encore with standout Window track “Black Earth, WI”—the song itself ending with an epic-length guitar solo from lead guitarist Dave Sagan—a clear sense of accomplishment (and perhaps a little exhaustion?) could be felt radiating from the stage. Florry reappeared for hugs and final bows. One leg of the tour done, one more to go. More shows. Always more shows.
So to circle back: What’s the purpose of a show? Is a show simply a fleeting night of entertainment? A gathering of strangers under the umbrella of fandom? A chance for the artist to project and the audience to receive? A potential spark of inspiration and activism? Hell, what’s the purpose of a show review? Is a show review simply a written record of a fleeting event? A gathering of thoughts under the umbrella of criticism? A chance for the writer to indulge and the reader to receive or reject? A rundown of set lists and guitar solos? What does it all mean? What does it all do?
There were no definitive answers at Saturday’s Ratboys show, and there are no definitive answers here. Instead, the best both show and review can offer is this: Listen to music. Make music. Go to shows. Play shows. Write it down. Share it. (“Here, this is what I’ve been working on.”) Talk to people while you still can. Heal old wounds while you still can. Be present. Be kind to one another. Keep people safe. Fuck ICE.
[guitar solo]
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