There’s something uniquely fitting about seeing Beach Bunny in a city like Toronto in the spring. The air is just starting to soften, winter finally loosening its grip, and crowds feel ready—almost desperate—for something bright, loud, and emotionally honest. At History, one of the city’s best-sounding mid-sized venues, Beach Bunny delivered exactly that: a night of sharp hooks, bittersweet lyrics, and the kind of communal energy that turns indie-pop shows into group therapy sessions with guitars.
History is a perfect match for a band like Beach Bunny. Big enough to feel significant, small enough to keep everything intimate. From the moment the doors opened, the crowd skewed young but deeply committed—fans in pastel outfits, chunky boots, and band tees lining up early, already singing snippets of choruses to each other. There was a shared understanding in the room: these songs matter. They’ve soundtracked breakups, glow-ups, late-night drives, and that weird emotional space between confidence and insecurity that Beach Bunny captures so well.
When the band hit the stage, they wasted no time easing in. The opening moments immediately set the tone—bright, punchy, and emotionally direct. Lili Trifilio’s presence is disarming in the best way. She doesn’t perform like someone trying to dominate a room; she performs like someone inviting the audience to step into her world. Her voice cuts cleanly through the mix, carrying both sweetness and bite, and from the first song it was clear the crowd was locked in.
“Cloud 9” landed like a collective exhale, the kind of song that feels permanently wired into Beach Bunny’s identity. The room bounced, hands shot into the air, and suddenly the space felt smaller, warmer, and louder. “Ms. California” followed, its surfy melancholy pairing perfectly with Toronto’s early-spring mood—hopeful, but still carrying a chill underneath.
“Mr. Predictable” and “Big Pink Bubble” showcased the band’s tightness. Beach Bunny’s sound may lean toward bright indie-pop, but live, there’s real muscle behind it. The guitars bite harder, the rhythm section pushes forward with urgency, and the songs feel less like diary entries and more like declarations. “Weeds” and “Oxygen” kept that momentum going, each chorus met with full-volume singalongs that made it clear this wasn’t a passive audience.
One of the strengths of the set was its pacing. Rather than front-loading all the obvious crowd-pleasers, the band allowed the show to breathe. “Chasm” and “Nice Guys” brought the emotional temperature down just enough to add contrast, while still maintaining intensity. “Tunnel Vision” and “Violence” hit with cathartic force, their themes of frustration and self-awareness resonating deeply with a crowd that knew every word.
“Pixie Cut” and “Vertigo” were standout moments, not just musically but emotionally. These songs live in that sweet spot Beach Bunny occupies so well—catchy enough to feel euphoric, honest enough to sting. Lili’s delivery felt especially raw here, and the audience responded in kind, voices rising to meet hers.
By the time “Blame Game” and “Good Girls (Don’t Get Used)” rolled around, the room felt fully unified. Strangers leaned into each other, shouting lyrics like shared confessions. “Clueless” and “Sports” kept the energy high, with “Sports” in particular feeling like a victory lap—its chorus exploding off the stage and back again.
“Dream Boy” and “Just Around the Corner” closed the main set with a sense of earned optimism. There’s something reassuring about Beach Bunny live: even when the lyrics cut deep, the overall feeling is one of resilience. These are songs about surviving your feelings, not drowning in them.
The encore brought a shift in tone that made it even more impactful. Lili returned alone for “6 Weeks,” performing it solo and stripping everything back. No band. No distractions. Just her voice and the song. In a room that had been loud all night, the silence was striking. You could feel the weight of the lyrics land, unfiltered and unguarded.
That vulnerability made the transition into “Prom Queen” feel explosive. The crowd screamed along, the song’s themes of self-image and pressure hitting especially hard in a room full of young fans who grew up with it. “Painkiller” closed the night with raw energy, the band firing on all cylinders as the audience gave everything they had left.
Beach Bunny at History wasn’t about spectacle or excess. It was about connection—between band and crowd, between strangers who found pieces of themselves in the same songs. In April 2025, on a night when Toronto felt ready to shake off the cold and feel something real, Beach Bunny delivered a show that was joyful, cathartic, and deeply human.
Setlist
O Canada
Cloud 9
Ms. California
Mr. Predictable
Big Pink Bubble
Weeds
Oxygen
Chasm
Nice Guys
Tunnel Vision
Violence
Pixie Cut
Vertigo
Blame Game
Good Girls (Don’t Get Used)
Clueless
Sports
Dream Boy
Just Around the Corner
Encore:
6 Weeks (performed solo by Lili)
Prom Queen
Painkiller