Standing under the cool moonlight surrounded by warm, sweating bodies, I handed over my phone to a stranger. A second later, it was handed back to me in a Yondr pouch, a small container that sealed my phone and made it unusable. I thanked the security guard and continued inside as the venue began to pulse with the power of speakers and the anticipation of hundreds of fans.
It was almost time for Phoebe Bridgers to come on stage.
On October 11 and 12, Phoebe Bridgers performed her album, Lost Weekend, in Nashville. Her 2026 tour, titled Lost Tour, has been highly anticipated by fans despite this one rule: No phones are allowed inside the venue.
As lights flooded the stadium and cast laser-like spotlights on Bridgers, I was keenly aware of the lack of phones in the crowd. Usually, in concerts, there seem to be as many recording devices as eyes watching.
Rather than watching the concert through a recording phone, though, I experienced it with nothing but my eyes. I thought about what it meant to be present in the moment, especially knowing that it could never be relived through a video.
About halfway through the performance, Bridgers addressed the lack of phones in the crowd. She thanked us for being willing to put our phones away for her, telling us that it made these performances so much easier. Then, she went on to play “Still Standing,” which focuses on her relationship with her dead father.
When she sang, it felt personal and vulnerable. When she sang, the audience wasn’t thinking about whether they were getting a good shot of her. When she sang, we were fully present in this tragic moment as she wrestled with her grief. When she sang, I sang too, thinking of my own father and not about a phone that wasn’t in my hand.
At the end of the concert, Bridgers sang “Scott Street.” When the bridge of the song hit, all the lights in the stadium turned on. Suddenly, I wasn’t looking at Bridgers but at every stranger around me who was now placed under the same spotlight. Together, we waved our arms back and forth freely, not a single phone in sight, as we sang over and over again, “Don’t be a stranger.”
Phoebe Bridgers’ Lost Tour performance was nothing like I expected and somehow everything I needed. When it was time for me to leave the concert and open the pouch containing my phone, I found myself not even reaching for it.
Turns out living in the moment is better than anything my phone can offer.