Lawnya Vawnya 2026 Day 2: Dancing our Way into the Tavern

Photography credit: R. Pardy - Jaywood

One of the best things about Lawnya Vawnya is how easy it is to chase adventure. Unlike larger festivals that require meticulous planning and cross-city commutes, everything here sits within a comfortable walking radius. From my hotel room, most venues are no more than four to ten minutes away, making venue hopping feel less like a logistical challenge and more like an afternoon stroll through the colourful local businesses of downtown St. John's.

My evening began at Bannerman Brewery Co. with Winnipeg-born, Montreal-based artist JayWood. Climbing the stairs to the brewery's event space, I was greeted by a dance jam already in progress. Fresh off last year's LEO NEGRO, released through Captured Tracks, JayWood effortlessly blends indie rock, hip-hop, R&B, with a tinge of psychedelia. Tracks like "BIG TINGS," his collaboration with Tune-Yards, floated through the room in waves, while never sacrificing the groove that kept the audience moving. It was my first time seeing the artist as a solo endeavour, having previously been a fan of his work in Winnipeg power-pop band Housepanther whom I discovered at Sled Island Music Festival in my youth.

During "... Kitchen Floor," JayWood called on the crowd to "back it up" before leaping into the audience himself, creating a circle dance pit that quickly swallowed the room. Between songs, he joked that he'd forgotten to bring merchandise because he'd become so consumed with creating visuals for the show. Behind him, a projector cycled through clips from Sailor Moon, Inuyasha, and Dragon Ball Z. As someone who grew up on anime, it felt like the perfect visual companion to his music — nostalgic and playful. It's especially impressive considering JayWood performs solo; where many one-person sets struggle to maintain momentum, his relied on charisma, crowd interaction, and songs strong enough to fill every corner of the room with infectious energy.

Photography credit: R. Pardy - Jaywood

From there, I headed over to The Ship Pub, which immediately felt like a slice of home. As a Calgarian, it's impossible not to think of the Ship & Anchor when you hear "The Ship," though this version had been fully transformed by Lawnya Vawnya's medieval theme. Stone-patterned wallpaper covered the walls, paper mâché horse heads were tacked on the stage, and the dim lighting made the venue feel more like a true tavern than a downtown pub.

Local favourites and newly formed Cable TV kicked things off with East Coast energy, evoking the feeling of a rowdy garage show. Then came Calgary duo Miesha and the Spanks, who had originally been scheduled to play the festival last year but postponed following the loss of a close friend. Frontperson Miesha Louie spoke candidly about the bittersweet nature of finally making it to the festival, while also acknowledging the anniversary of their friend's passing.

Photography credit: Dan Smith - Miesha and the Spanks

The duo played with remarkable ferocity, tearing through new songs like "Fight My Body" and "Smiling," both set to appear on their forthcoming EP Visions. Personal favourite "Dig Me Out" from 2023's Unconditional Love in Hi-Fi landed with the audience and as we head into Friday, the show is still lingering on people’s minds when I ask them about their festival highlights so far. At one point, drummer Sean Hamilton paused to poll the audience on what beer he should order from the bar. "India Beer" won by popular vote (in case you ever find yourself drinking in St. John’s sometime soon). While the set began on a heavy emotional note, it ended triumphantly, with the band embracing onstage as the audience erupted into the loudest cheers I've heard at the festival.

Photography credit: Dan Smith - Miesha and the Spanks

The night closed with another memorable performance by Terrace, British Columbia artist G̱a̱mksimoon, delivering a set that blended hard, fuzzed-out rock, doom metal, and Indigenous storytelling. Fronted by Wil Uks Batsga G̱alaaw (Jeremy Pahl), formerly known as Saltwater Hank, the project takes its name from a weather phenomenon called sea tornados, where strong winds push the saltwater up from the ocean in a spiral. More significantly, every song was performed entirely in Sm'algyax, the language of the Ts'msyen people. Even without understanding every lyric, the significance and connection that results through Pahl’s storytelling is impossible to miss, with a particular highlight being Pahl sharing his respect for seals in between his set, referencing how they are “supernatural beings that dwell in the water”. It more than just music; it’s an act of cultural preservation and revitalization.

Photography credit: Dan Smith - G̱a̱mksimoon,

Stay tuned to Reverie for more coverage throughout the week from Lawnya Vawnya 2026.