Lawnya Vawnya Day 4: The Scene That Shows Up

Photo credit: R. Pardy - Slash Need

By the final day of Lawnya Vawnya, I was finally winning my battle against jetlag thankfully because today was the biggest (and last) day of the festival — so we had to give it all we got.

While scanning the schedule, one listing immediately caught my eye: a garage show. Following Water Street up toward Baird's Cove, I found a crowd of youth gathered outside what appeared to be an autobody shop now-turned-all-ages venue. It was exactly the sort of unconventional venue that makes Lawnya Vawnya special.

The bill leaned heavily into hardcore, pairing local acts with bands from Brampton, Ontario—a city that continues to establish itself as one of Canada's most exciting hardcore hotbeds. Local favourites Dear Evangeline returned for their second appearance of the festival, greeted by a growing contingent of fans now proudly sporting the band's merch. Invisible Hand followed, showcasing the deep interconnectedness of the Newfoundland scene. Another band featuring Liam Ryan, who seemed to appear in a different band every night of the festival, the set served as another reminder of how much overlap exists within the community. I had caught Ryan's Midwest emo project Swimming at Sled Island last year alongside Jacob Cherwick, another musician whose skills are everywhere in the scene through projects like Kubasonics, Sick Puppy, Bazooka, and Double Denim.

Photo credit: Jeremy Harnum - Invisible Hand

The crowd embodied everything that makes DIY hardcore culture the best. Audience members goblin-walked across the floor, picked each other up after falls, and somehow found creative uses for nearby safety cones wearing them as hats and shouting through them between songs. At one point, Invisible Hand teased the opening riff of Blink-182's "Dammit" before abruptly abandoning the joke and launching back into their own crushing material.

The energy set the stage for Brampton's LICE up next. Featuring members of Dear-God, Terry Green, and Influx, the band arrived with serious pedigree, but what struck me most alongside the musicianship was the crowd's hype. During several songs, the microphone barely spent any time onstage, remaining instead in the middle of the mosh pit as audience members screamed along word-for-word. Hardcore lyrics can be difficult enough to decipher with a lyric sheet in hand, yet somehow every person in the room seemed to know exactly what was being said for both LICE and locals Invisible Hand. What became increasingly apparent throughout the weekend was how fiercely loyal the Newfoundland DIY community is. People show up. They invest themselves fully. They support their peers with an enthusiasm that feels increasingly rare. Whether local or touring, every artist received that same level of respect.

Photo credit: Jeremy Harnum - LICE

Later that evening, I made my way to The Ship to catch Ottawa's fanclubwallet, the project of Hannah Judge. Fresh off a tour with Cloud Nothings and ahead of an appearance at this year's Sled Island, Judge delivered one of the weekend's most affecting performances. Her voice could shrink to an almost whisper-like intimacy before expanding into something ghostly and expansive with the help of a TC Helicon vocal processor I kept eyeing up, particularly on "Guts." The set closed with "Me Time" from Living While Dying, a record that remains one of 2025’s strongest releases—a collection of songs that offers comfort without asking listeners to become anyone other than themselves.

Photo credit: Dan Smith - fanclubwallet

Toronto jangle pop band Kiwi Jr. followed, shouting out their one friend from St. John's in attendance. By the end of the night, they had undoubtedly made a few hundred more. Going into the set, I expected something closer to straightforward dad rock. Instead, the band peppered their songs with infectious synth hooks and left-field flourishes that completely upended my expectations.

For the final stretch of the festival, I headed to The Rock House to immerse myself in some heavier industrial electronic. St. John's artist Feminotica opened with a charming and delightfully unpredictable performance that included an accordion-led rendition of Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" and a pitch-perfect cover of Ashnikko's "I Want My Boyfriends to Kiss."

Montreal rave-punk duo HRT followed. Having previously seen the group during Taverne Tour in Montreal, I knew what to expect musically, but seeing them perform in St. John's felt entirely different. Before the set, a local attendee told me, "St. John's doesn't usually get music from all over Canada like this and it means a lot to them."

Photo credit: R. Pardy - HRT

The sentiment lingered throughout HRT's performance. Blending hardcore, breakbeat, post-punk, and darkwave into a singular sound, Kirby Lees and Anastasia Westcott delivered a set that felt like an enlightened, meditative trip and confrontational at the same time. Lees' lyrics grappled with identity, alienation, and embodiment while encouraging audiences to release those emotions through movement. Looking out into the crowd, Lees remarked, "It's nice seeing so many queer people here. It's not the place I remember." The comment carried additional weight given Westcott's Newfoundland roots and Lees' connection to Halifax. In many ways, the performance felt emblematic of what I loved about Lawnya Vawnya and the musicians they curate — it creates space for communities to find one another.

Closing out my festival was Montréal industrial-punk outfit SLASH NEED. Having seen the band several times before, it was yet again a one-of-a-kind experience seeing them in a place where opportunities to see artists like this are less frequent.

Photo credit: R. Pardy - Slash Need

Running through highlights from their debut album Sit and Grin including "Border Town," "Double Dare," "Worm," and my personal favourite to scream along to — "The Money Will Roll Right In"— as Dusty and Stella, performing as a duo, moved quickly from the stage, to crowd, to bar, and who knows where else. During "Worm," Dusty and Stella Tago rolled across the stage floor wrestling one another like the song's namesake creatures. Stella crowd-surfed as she clutched her guitar, launching from the side of the stage into a sea of raised hands. Dusty eventually climbed atop the bar as the crowd demanded one more song. The chants worked. After what felt like several minutes of pleading, the band returned to perform an unreleased track, which was a SLASH NEED first for me.

It was a fitting conclusion to Lawnya Vawnya's sixteenth edition. Across four days, the festival transformed churches, breweries, bars, warehouses, and autobody shops into gathering spaces for artists and audiences from across the country. More importantly, it highlighted a community eager to embrace new music while fiercely supporting its own. If the final night proved anything, it's that St. John's doesn't take opportunities like this for granted. The city values them, and Lawnya Vawnya continues to reward that enthusiasm in return.