PHOENIX — For a band whose early work has become synonymous with mid‑2000s indie‑pop nostalgia, The Format proved they’re as essential as ever during a heartfelt mid‑day performance at Crescent Ballroom.
Limited to fans who pre-ordered the new album Boycott Heaven, and originally planned as an intimate “in‑store” in the parking lot of Stinkweeds Records, the show was relocated due to weather concerns. The move indoors may have averted rain that never came – but it also meant missing out on a planned surprise rooftop performance, a Beatles‑style moment that would have overlooked the Stinkweeds lot and lived in Phoenix music lore.
There was an unmistakable buzz in the room. With 500 fans packed into the sold‑out Crescent, the afternoon felt like a reunion of friends and kindred spirits. It marked the second of two Phoenix appearances, following an in‑store at Zia Records the day before. These homecoming events bookended the start of a limited run of shows, with additional stops planned in Long Beach, Seattle, and New York City.
Photography: Katherine Amy Vega © All Rights Reserved
Backed by original live members Don Raymond, Jr. on bass and Marko Buzard on guitar, along with Will Noon (of Ruess’ other band, fun.) on drums, Nate Ruess and Sam Means offered a performance that was honest, uplifting, and deeply connective.
Their bond with the crowd ran deep, bolstered by the band’s willingness to speak directly about the times. The Format make no secret of their views – and based on the crowd’s reaction, most were right there with them.
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From the moment they launched into the soaring “Back To Life,” the band leaned into tracks from their long‑awaited new album, released just the day before on January 23. The setlist flowed naturally from the upbeat “Shot In The Dark” to the candid “Depressed” and “Right Where I Belong.”
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Sam Means began the first verses of the title track “Boycott Heaven,” a special moment highlighting his occasional solo vocals, before Ruess belted, “It’s a long line / And it bleeds into the pavement / Sixty-something words to save them / From this recent misery,” stirring goosebumps throughout the room.
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During “Holy Roller,” the crowd softly sang along with a familiarity that seemed to call forth something rare and profound: a shared sense of energy and connection not felt in years. Since the song’s October 6, 2025 release (following its live debut at their first reunion show on September 27 at Arizona Veterans Memorial Coliseum), it has become something of an anthem – not just a song people recognize, but one people also feel deeply. The song’s message, a critique of passive faith that urges immediate action, felt all the more resonant given the times.
Boycott Heaven’s announcement, cover art (featuring a crystallized Virgin Mary sculpture by Australian artist Kyle Montgomery), and title stirred some controversy among religious fans. One commenter wrote, “Ugh I used to love your music. This picture of whom I’m assuming was Mary absolutely breaks my heart and infuriates me at the same time.” Another defended the band, saying, “Don’t always judge an album by its name or artwork… it could have a deeper meaning than any of you holy molys think.”
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The Format have long served as a beacon for fans navigating dark times. In an era dominated by hyper‑independence and the disconnection caused by social media, their music offers something increasingly rare: community. Arizona’s local scene has been deeply impacted by the loss of figures like Stefan Pruett (Peachcake) in 2020 and Jonah Foree — known for his work in Ikonoklast, Goth Brooks, and HARDWIRE — in 2022. These were artists who brought two very different music communities together, and their absence is still felt. The return of The Format helps begin to fill that gap by re‑establishing the connective tissue that once held disparate music communities and cultures together.
Their new track “Shot In The Dark” seems to reference kintsugi – the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold – with the lyric:
“Me and my friends, we used to fall apart / And piece ourselves back together like a work of art.“
It’s an apt metaphor for the night itself.
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Ruess addressed the pain of the current moment in a powerful monologue before the encore, referencing a police shooting that had occurred earlier this day – the fatal shooting of 37‑year‑old Minneapolis ICU nurse Alex Pretti by federal officers. Visibly emotional, he told the crowd:
“It’s amazing just being here in Arizona for the release of this album… It’s great to play shows, and you make music, and… um… usually it’s like a good time, then sometimes you realize… just, awful fucking shit is happening, everywhere.” (Ruess makes a lengthy pause.)
“But uh… they fucking shot somebody again today. And…”
When a fan shouted, “FUCK ICE,” Ruess echoed it:
“Yeah, of course… fuck ICE… …everyone fucking thinks fuck ICE. FUCK them.”
“Anyways… they fucking shot somebody again and I can’t fucking take this shit anymore. I can’t take everything that’s going on in the fucking world. Nine fucking times. It’s hard to… it’s hard… it’s HARD to get up here and just have a straight face. Uh, you know… but at the same time, that’s what music is for. Sometimes it’s there to take us away from the fucking awful shit that’s fucking happening all around us.”“We work hard, all of us, all of you work hard… you come to see a concert. Sometimes you come to get taken away from shit.”
That emotional release came in the form of the final song of the set – an unreleased track called “The Bar is Set So Low,” written a year ago but excluded from the album. The song’s somber lyrics cut deep:
“Get away, get away, get away cause the fear has gotten whole, and I’m struggling. / It’s a shame, it’s a shame, it’s a shame that the bar is set so low. / I’m caught under it.”
Despite its heaviness, the performance was filled with solidarity, especially when the crowd locked into the line:
“There is one goal. For all of our brothers, we must lighten the load.“
That sentiment reflects something Ruess recently shared in an interview with Minnesota Public Radio’s station The Current: “Our goal as human beings is to lighten the load for our brother.”
The Format deliver both clarity and comfort, unafraid to speak hard truths while giving listeners something to hold onto.
In response to the new material, one Facebook group commenter summed it up simply:
“Now that sounds like some classic Format.“
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Thankfully, unlike The Beatles, this was not their final live performance together – just the beginning of something new. The Format’s return both satisfies nostalgia and reminds us what’s been missing. At Crescent Ballroom, they reawakened a feeling of joy, of belonging, of catharsis that many in the room hadn’t felt in years. And for a few unforgettable hours, it felt like we were all being pieced back together again.
