Live Review: Planet Desert Rock Weekend VI Night Four, Las Vegas, NV, 02.01.26
Before Show
As I mentioned yesterday, Spaceslug — who flew from Warsaw, Poland, to L.A. and drove through the desert to Las Vegas, having apparently also done so when they were here a couple years back — are staying with Adam as well. There was talk last night of going to the Valley of Fire today. I offered to bring my camera, and it kind of turned into a photo shoot. Incredible sights driving around with Spaceslug, sitting in the back with classic rock radio on. “Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting,” “Revolution,” “Me and Julio Down by the School Yard,” etc. Some Edgar Winter.
I met a Hungarian couple in a parking lot by a closed visitors center in the state park, went up and introduced myself and did my best to hold a conversation in their language. That they didn’t tell me to fuck off immediately I took as a big win. I don’t usually do stuff like that.
The shoot was fun, climbing over rocks, taking shots with incredible backdrops,
some pictures by a cool cave overhang. No idea if they’ll use any of them for anything, but I probably will put some in posts unless I’m told not to.
This is the last night of Planet Desert Rock Weekend VI, which is of course bittersweet. I look forward to getting home to my family tomorrow evening, and I’m bummed to leave a great time behind. I spent much of 2025 talking up the experience here last January. I feel like this something really special and its own thing among fests. It’s like a boutique festival. John Gist, who promotes and curates, should probably be charging $300 for tickets.
Because I went back to Adam’s and napped for an hour, then had a cup of coffee before going to The Usual Place, I missed Spaceslug’s soundcheck, but got there in time for Bask’s, which was cool since I hadn’t seen them before, so like a little preview. Westing got a check after, which is how the other nights have mostly gone. Lots of hustle around the place as the crew gets everything ready. That tense thing in the air is real.
I’d already had a good day by the time I set foot in the venue. I still was looking forward to the night to come.
Here’s how that went. Thanks for reading:
The Show
Westing
They were the only band of the weekend who brought their own drumset. Westing’s 2023 album, Future (review here), was their first under the name, which had been Slow Season until 2021. Onstage, guitarist/vocalist Daniel Story Rice thanked John Gist for getting the band “out of semi-retirement” and noted it was their first show with their new guest lead guitarist Josh Cuevas. It was my first time seeing them under any name and in any incarnation. They did “Back in the Twenties” and “Nothing New” back-to-back, which is also how Future started, and their heavy ’70s-via-’10s sound was both ready for raucousness but still letting the music breathe in a way that made it feel laid back. I wasn’t surprised to dig them — and the drums that Cody Tarbell brought did sound perfect in the songs, to be fair, bassist Hayden Doyel rolling smooth lines alongside for a Zeppelin nod, benefiting from the sound in the room that’s been kind to bassists (and everybody) all weekend — but I’m glad I did. It was such an inviting sound, I’m not sure how you would not. I put my phone down and stopped writing for a few just to take it in. It’s the last night. Time for it.
Familiars
The only Canadian band on the bill, and another first for me. Toronto’s Familiars made an awful lot of sense coming off Westing, with a classic-rooted sound, purposeful and expressive melody, and a fuller, fuzzier tone (on average). The trio of guitarist/vocalist Kevin Vansteenkiste, bassist/vocalist Jared MacIntyre and drummer Anton Babych, set themselves to task early and were quintessential non-aggro heavy rock. The groove came through loud and, yes, warm, but they weren’t a bash-away kind of band. A more subtle touch, like when you see the wavforms of recordings from the ’70s and there are peaks and valleys where modern recordings shove everything so far forward. They had more country in them than just Vansteenkiste’s hat, and that ‘Gold’ (in the FM radio sense; they closed with “Bonanza,” also about the gold rush) had a shimmer whether a given part was loud or quiet. And in terms of the themes for the night, some twang made sense, at least up to Bask. Familiars were not a band I’d be likely to see otherwise, and I appreciated that about the set, but also just the set itself. You wouldn’t call them raucous on stage, and if they were thrashing around, I dont think it would work with the songs. Faor enough. They got into it in their own way, and with a light sway, the audience did much the same.
High Desert Queen
There aren’t a lot of American heavy rock bands who at this point can hold a candle to what High Desert Queen bring to the stage. They’re one great record away from headlining things like this, and at PDRW, they were a needed kick at just the right time; very much the centerpiece of the lineup, taking the flow of the first two bands and upping the energy level admirably. Chill vibes it ain’t, with High Desert Queen, with frontman Ryan Garney doing calisthenics early in the set to get the crowd on the band’s side, then making it worth their while for the rest of their time, drummer Phil Hook, bassist Morgan Miller and guitarist Rusty Miller conjuring a roll that could ebb and flow but was never really all the way gone. This was my third time seeing them, and if you never have, they’re an impressive watch. Garney shouted out “Head Honcho” to John Gist, which was fitting, and went on to demonstrate what can happen when you’re both a really good band and inclined to work your collective ass off, as without being cloying, High Desert Queen are about as engaging a stoner band as you can get. They played “Tuesday Night Blues.” Killed. I’m learning that’s how it goes. The crowd was pretty consistent all night, but High Desert Queen brought more to the front. As they will. Then Garney started the weekend’s only moshpit. Of course.
Bask
While also being quite heavy — I mean, it’s been four nights of this stuff at this point, and I’m talking remarkably heavy — Bask’s sound was lush in a way nothing else this weekend has been. Some of that is arrangement — unless Spaceslug have one hiding or somewhere, Bask have the only pedal steel guitar of the weekend, and they use it to cast a floating sunrise over proggy guitars, Southern-style noodling and riffs. I recalled digging 2025’s The Turning (review here) but hadn’t really gone back to it, which I regretted watching them play — is the notion of Americana emotional baggage? — and I was glad at very least to be in the room to be subsumed into that wash of sound, somwtimes a lead cutting through but rarely not beautiful. An unexpected highlight of the weekend for me, but mostly just because I’m a yutz and this is the first time I’m seeing them. I was good and tired, but as heavy as it was, it wasn’t abrasive. And even when they heavy-countried, that nod was there. Drift, crush, soothe.
Spaceslug
There’s the blowout. I was wondering before they went on how Spaceslug fit into the narrative. Westing was classic, Familiars added Canadiana, High Desert Queen brought it to ground in rock and electrified the room, Bask called back to Southernism on the part of Familiars and High Desert Queen, and then there’s cosmic psych prog metallers Spaceslug. But it’s the weight, the notion of a heavy atmosphere, and an attention to the details of their sound that make it fluid, though honestly I’d be pretty happy to watch Spaceslug no matter who was opening. But the context of the night up to that point was part of what made it special. And it was that. Maybe Spaceslug do that all the time — I’ve never seen them seven nights in a row, I’m kind of sad to say — but I don’t always get to see it. Accordingly, I stopped writing for a while to loosen the earplugs and let the full range (and volume) in. Not like my ears weren’t ringing anyway. Wish I could say I lasted, but I’m too old not to know what’s good for me. Even so, Spaceslug were glorious in sprawl and volume and depth, all three sharing vocals, absolutely locked in. That was how I ended the night, off to the side of the stage, being bowled over. I didn’t end up writing again until they were done, and that was the right choice. Some moments you just need to exist in. I’m lucky to have existed in these.
After Show
The Uber driver had disco lights and funk grooves, so that was a win.
Thank you John Gist. Thank you Adam and Jocelynn Sage. Thank you The Patient Mrs. Thanks to my mom. Thank you for reading. Everybody who made this trip possible, which to some degree or other, is everybody.
I met a bunch of cool people and saw a bunch more I already knew. Real interpersonal interaction, like the humans do. It can be scary stuff.
Tomorrow (today by the time you read this) you won’t hear from me after this post. Travel day. I get to New Jersey at around 8:30PM, so not much time to write. I have a couple posts ready to roll on Tuesday, but give me a few days to get home, catch up on home/housework and be with my wife and daughter. I’ve had a really, really good time here, and I look forward to being with my family. My life is an embarrassment of love.
Thanks again for reading. More pics after the jump.
Westing
Familiars
High Desert Queen
Bask
Spaceslug
