Rocket Hosts an Electric Crowd at The Roxy

November 22nd, 2025 – Los Angeles

It’s another one of those lively November nights on the Sunset Strip, where musicians intermingle with music enthusiasts in crowds waiting for shows at every venue. Outside of The Roxy tonight, dozens of fans line the entryway dressed in high boots and Rocket tees. I watch from the curb as Alithea Tuttle, Rocket’s vocalist, makes her way through the crowd and embraces friends in the lobby. The chatter of excited show-goers soon blends into the enticing sound spilling out of The Roxy’s entrance, as music flows onto the neon-flashing street.

Ticket in hand, I wait in line alongside a couple of fans holding Rocket’s R is for Rocket vinyl in arm, and they tell me that they drove up from San Diego to catch the show. “We’ve been fans ever since the release of their first EP,” the girl in red flats and glittered eyeliner tells me. “They’re amazing live.”

Composed of Alithea Tuttle, drummer Cooper Ladomade, and guitarists Desi Scaglione and Baron Rinzler, Rocket touches down in L.A. for the final show of their triumphant U.S. tour. The release of their debut album, R is for Rocket, was a success across the states, and The Roxy is catching them right after a booming performance in San Francisco the night before. “When I first heard Rocket, I thought they were a ’90s band,” I overhear a group of teens say as I make my way through the glittering crowd. “But then again, they’re so in touch with what’s happening in L.A. music now.”

Photography by Amanda Hoss (IG: @miffyisoffline)

It’s a fitting description of Rocket’s stylistic allure, which I hear from the moment they step onto the stage. A bittersweet nostalgia fuels their sound, subtly referencing the musicality of bands like My Bloody Valentine. Yet the way they present these songs to the crowd reveals a deep understanding of modern composition. With tracks filled with oozing ‘90s angst and head-bopping distorted guitar riffs, R is for Rocket was partially recorded at the Foo Fighters’ Studio 606 in Northridge, Los Angeles. Rocket’s vintage sound strives to capture the aural experience of their shows – the passion of their live set hangs over the mood of the entire album.

Blue lights pull us towards their sonic entrance as Tuttle kicks off “Take Your Aim,” a single released in February preceding the album. Her hypnotic voice is buoyed by the drums, and halfway through the song, she faces Ladomade at his kit as if in conversation. He tempts her into the second verse, and the lyrics “Sometimes you think your life is just a dream,” entice the crowd to dance.

The floor shakes as fans move to the music, and I can tell right away that Rocket has cultivated a loyal, devoted group. People of all ages cross the concrete floor, clearly moved by the sound emerging from the band. This guitar riff means something to them, and that drum solo holds a special place in their heart.

The guitarists bring us into the next song, “One Million,” track 4 on the album. Together, they form a rhythmic vibration, and I notice something shift in the crowd. Alithea Tuttle nods on, spellbound like the rest of us, and the center of the floor begins to stir. People scatter from the middle, waiting for a signal. As Tuttle approaches the microphone, the fans start to jump and spin. Combat boots stomp across the floor, and fans crash into each other in true punk fashion. Even at the famed Roxy, the authentic feeling of basement-rock fills the room. A fan rushes onto the stage and jumps into the crowd, surfing above our heads. Everyone is still stomping when Scaglione and Rinzler finish the song, sending harmonic feedback through the speakers. I watch as the San Diegan fan with glittered eyeliner steps out of the mosh pit, out of breath, smiling.

Photography by Amanda Hoss (IG: @miffyisoffline)

The rumbling crowd devoured Rocket’s set that night – but they also gave first opener Girljockey quite a performance as well. The Roxy lit up early in the evening as Gillian Chamberlin, Girljockey’s lead singer, stepped onto a fog-shrouded stage with an enormous upright double bass. The crowd was instantly captivated, pulled in by the band’s poetic blend of experimental art rock and the local punk show scene. Girljockey is made up of Gillian Chamberlin (Vocals), Sage Roth-Berg (Bass), Johnny Yanucci (Drums), and Jackson Vann (Guitar) – all artful contributors in the band’s overarching grungy aesthetic. I met them in the back parking lot of The Roxy after the show and asked them a few questions about their craft.

Photography by Amanda Hoss (IG: @miffyisoffline)

On the vibrations of a performance, Chamberlin told me that “[i]t’s important to make the audience feel like they’re as much of a participant in the performance as us – the most meaningful concerts I’ve seen are when I felt like I was being watched, too.” Over the ambient street sounds of the Strip, I ask her to elaborate. “A lot of people think the stage is a bigger barrier than it is. In performing, I want to make the crowd feel like they’re also being seen. They’re also being witnessed. Their reactions are as much of a performance as what we’re doing on stage.”

Girljockey succeeded in breaking the fourth wall that night; the crowd felt enveloped within the tone of the room rather than observing from a distance. They danced, sang, and moved to the rhythm of the bass – just as they did for Rocket’s set later that night.

Photography by Amanda Hoss (IG: @miffyisoffline)

On after Girljockey was Worlds Worst, a rock group from Salt Lake City, Utah. They delivered an energetic performance reminiscent of those beloved groups characterized as “garage bands” of the early 2000s. Brought to The Roxy with a power quartet of guitarists and vocalists, they showed that alternative rock of the past has made a resurgence in the L.A. scene. Guitar strings were slashed, drums were blasting, and the crowd was on their feet the entire time. The end of their performance left us all hungry for more of that heaving reverb and baseball-cap rock – all of which helps to compose their newest album, American Muscle.

Photography by Amanda Hoss (IG: @miffyisoffline)

With two strong openers to liven the audience, Rocket fans were electric for the rest of the night. It’s quite an achievement for every band to influence such movement within a crowd, and toward the end of Rocket’s set, the mosh circle is as dynamic as ever. A shimmering sound from the guitarists mimics a futuristic siren, and the band lets influences of psychedelic rock seep through. At the song’s end, Tuttle points to an L.A. Dodgers flag hanging off one of the speakers. “This show is special tonight because we’re all from here,” she says over a hushed audience. “We were all born and raised here in L.A., and we’ve been coming to this venue since we were children. I mean, this is the best city in the world.”

A hum falls over the audience, and I look at the faces around me – shining, anticipating one last song. The band heads into “R is for Rocket,” the album’s title track and tenth tune, and the stomping resumes. Rocket brings their signature edge to the show’s finale, red lights shuddering across the stage.

Fans disperse onto the street after a high-energy and (literally) breathtaking experience. Those stylish, retro army boots pile into Ubers or make the walk home, but the rush of being in the crowd lingers. If bringing the ambiance of live music into the recording booth was Rocket’s intention, they succeeded with flying colors. Everyone below the stage was part of the show – part of the dance between music and musicians. After watching their performance at The Roxy that November night, it’s clear that their live musical chemistry translates seamlessly onto the record.