LOS ANGELES, CA- The Troubadour has always held a special place in my heart, being the first venue I attended after moving to LA. Tucked into West Hollywood, it carries an intimacy you won’t find in larger spaces. Walking into the second sold-out show of Richy Mitch and the Coal Miners’ October Moon tour, I could feel the electricity in the room—the kind that comes with a crowd eager to see their favorite performers live. It’s a type of energy that dissolves barriers and brings people together, building connections.
The evening began with Will Paquin. Sitting alone under a soft white spotlight, he transformed the venue into something smaller, quieter. Kicking off his Birks, he settled in with just his guitar and a collection of tender songs that felt more like conversations. At one point, he shared a story about a prized Yu-Gi-Oh card from his childhood—how he left it in his locker, only to find it torn to shreds, and how that heartbreak inspired one of his songs. In that moment, you could feel the entire room leaning in, hanging on every word. The Yu-Gi-Oh card became a metaphor for something deeper. By the end of his set, it felt as though we knew him, as if we’d all been invited into his world for a little while.
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When Richy Mitch and the Coal Miners hit the stage, they played their first song in the dark—a move to build anticipation. The tension broke, like a string pulled taut, as they launched into one of their popular songs, “Wet Socks.” Mitch fed off the energy, climbing onto the speakers and drum stand, belting out lyrics with his guitar slung across his chest. It was clear they weren’t some low-energy, mumbling indie band; they were here to engage and electrify. Throughout the night, the entire band moved like they were made for the stage—facing off during solos, swapping places, and continuously building the crowd’s energy.
It’s easy to forget just how much ground this band has covered since their high school days. Their songs blend folk, rock, and indie—accessible yet never predictable. Their 2017 track “Evergreen,” which TikTok catapulted into new territory, hit particularly hard live. The entire room sang along, their voices blending with Mitch’s, making it feel like the song belonged to everyone in the room.
Between songs, the band kept things personal. Mitch joked about Seattle’s endless gray skies, making playing in Los Angeles feel like a treat. At one point, someone in the crowd shouted, “It’s my birthday!” Without missing a beat, Mitch wished them a happy birthday, turning a throwaway comment into a special moment. They even brought friends onstage to sing during one of the songs, a gesture that extended the warmth filling the room all night.
The setlist was stacked. Fan favorites like “Wet Socks” and “Evergreen” were joined by two killer covers—Tame Impala’s “Elephant” and Clairo’s “Bags”—and a taste of what’s to come with their newest single, “October Moon.” The band’s ability to move effortlessly between heartfelt, stripped-back moments and all-out rockers kept the night dynamic and fresh. I couldn’t help but think, How did they not get bigger faster?
What truly stood out, though, was the crowd. There’s something unique about an RCMC show. I’ve been to enough concerts to know that not every audience feels this kind, this invested. People were dancing, singing, crying, and laughing at the band’s jokes—it felt like we were all in it together. Navigating the packed space with my camera could have been a hassle, but every time I moved, someone stepped aside or offered me a better spot to grab a shot. One fan even held up a sign that read, “I’m ready to cry at the RCMC show in Los Angeles.” I don’t know if they did, but I wouldn’t blame them if they had.
The night wasn’t without its surprises. Atta Boy, a band that’s opened for RCMC on much of this tour, was in the crowd showing their support. Fans eagerly shared their love for both the opener and the main act, handing Mitch and Will small gifts and asking for autographs after the show. Moments like those remind you these nights aren’t just about the music—they’re about the connections we make through it.
As the band wrapped up their final song, they hugged each other on stage, waved to the crowd, and handed out drumsticks and guitar picks to fans before walking off. It wasn’t flashy or overly dramatic; it was authentic and heartfelt. I left the Troubadour with a smile and a sense of lightness. It wasn’t just the music or the performance—though both were incredible. It was a reminder that spaces like this and bands like RCMC have a way of bringing people together and creating something extraordinary.
Follow Richy Mitch and the Coal Miners on Facebook, Instagram, and X.*********************
