The Backseat Lovers • Ally Dean • October 2, 2025 • The Great Saltair
Reviewed and Photographed by Austin Dayton
Under the open sky, right beside the Great Salt Lake, The Great Saltair glowed with anticipation on an early October night in 2025. For the second night in a row, fans gathered in waves across the outdoor stage, the air thick with salt and excitement. It was a homecoming for The Backseat Lovers, one of Utah’s most beloved indie exports, and by the time the sun dipped below the distant ridge of mountains across the lake, the energy in the crowd felt electric. The evening began gently, building layer by layer through two carefully chosen openers—Ally Dean and Theoretical Blonde—each adding their own tone and texture to the night before the headliners took over.
Ally Dean
Ally Dean opened the show with a quiet, steady grace. Armed with a guitar and a palpable level of calm, she filled the early evening air with her folk-focused songs about love, fear, and everything in between. Her voice carried warmth and honesty, each lyric unfolding like a story told by someone you trust. There was something grounding about her delivery—no gimmicks, no flash—just clean melody and heart. The crowd leaned in, soft murmurs fading to stillness as she played. To my surprise and the audience’s, Ally let the crowd know this night was the first night performing solo under her own name, Ally Dean.
Theoretical Blonde followed and started to adjust the temperature of the space immediately. The group, known around Utah for blending bluegrass, folk, and indie tones, brought a more complex and dynamic sound. Fiddle, guitar, and keys intertwined, and the rhythm section added a pulse that felt alive. Their songs carried both the looseness of a casual jam session and the precision of practiced musicianship. One minute, they were weaving harmonies so tight you could barely tell who was leading; the next, they were exploding into layered crescendos that had the crowd moving. The wind off the lake picked up during their last song, sweeping across the field as they finished on a long, reverberating note that hung in the air just long enough to feel intentional.
The Backseat Lovers
When the stage lights dimmed again, anticipation hit a new level. The Backseat Lovers took the stage to a roar, a roar that I have actually truly never heard at a Utah-based show before. As the roar quieted, they started with a soft, ambient intro—reverb, guitar textures, and slow rhythmic builds—before breaking into “Growing/Dying.” The reaction was immediate. Voices rose, hands went up, and for a few minutes, the open sky above The Saltair seemed to pulse with sound. The band’s chemistry was palpable, the kind that only comes from years of growing up together and playing to the same faces that first believed in them.
The early stretch of the set hit all the emotional notes the crowd came for. “Pool House,” “Snowbank Blues,” and “Heavy” followed in sequence, each met with collective singing and swaying. Josh Harmon’s vocals were clear and expressive, carrying both softness and grit, all while Josh kept a huge grin on his face. Jonas Swanson’s guitar lines floated and bent around them, sometimes tender, sometimes stormy. The venue’s natural echo gave every song a sense of space, each note expanding out toward the dark water. Between songs, Harmon smiled, thanked the fans, and said how good it felt to be home. That sentiment rippled through the crowd—this wasn’t just another stop; it was a return.
As the set moved into its middle section, the tone shifted toward introspection. Each song unfolded with patience, building from hushed beginnings into sweeping finishes. During these quieter passages, you could hear the texture of Harmon’s voice and the light brush of strings before the drums pulled everything back into motion. The Saltair’s outdoor expanse worked in the band’s favor, the openness amplifying the emotional weight. The audience listened closely, singing softly along when they recognized a lyric, moving as one when the band swelled into sound.
When “Kilby Girl” arrived, it felt like a spark in gasoline. The crowd erupted, shouting every line back at the band. The song’s deep Utah roots made it hit even harder here, as the song is presumably referring to the iconic Kilby Court Music venue where many artist get their starts. With the chorus echoing across the night as if reclaiming a piece of shared history. From there, the energy didn’t dip.
“Maple Syrup” followed, but in a special surprise for the crowd and very lucky audience member, Josh pulled up a certain fan, also named Josh. This audience member wasn’t just anyone, but a musician himself who had made a name for himself covering Backseat. Guitar in hand, Josh and Josh played the crowd favorite with a looseness that came from joy rather than effort. Guitars clashed and harmonized, drums surged, lights flared against the dark, and the band and their newest temporary member seemed to feed on the audience’s pulse.
The rest of the night included some hug treats for the fans like “Nightmare,” an unreleased song that the audience almost seemed to know already. Teasing the audience with a faux ending, the band stepped away for the “end” of the show. After a short break, they returned for an encore that began in near silence. They closed with “Sinking Ship,” stretching the final jam out as long as it could go. The music ebbed and flowed, and finally released in a final chord that rang through the night before dissolving into cheers.
When the lights came up, people didn’t move right away. Some stood still, heads tilted back toward the stage; others turned to the lake, taking the vast darkness. There was a shared sense that something personal had happened—not just a concert, but a moment of return, connection, and home.
For The Backseat Lovers, playing The Great Saltair wasn’t just another show—it was a homecoming, a celebration of where it all began and how far they’ve come (selling out two nights in a row). Ally Dean’s quiet beauty and Theoretical Blonde’s textured energy built the perfect foundation for a night that felt both intimate and expansive. The Backseat Lovers met that energy with a performance full of heart and honesty, the kind that reminds you why live music still matters. Under the salt air and the open sky, they made it clear that while their sound may have grown, their roots still run deep in Utah.