Concert Review: Elovaters at Brooklyn Bowl

Brooklyn Bowl Nashville was already buzzing on Wednesday, Nov. 19th, the air thick with anticipation long before The Elovaters ever stepped onstage. The crowd packed in wall to wall, drinks in hand, smiles everywhere, and that unmistakable little haze drifting above the room that only a reggae-rock crowd knows how to cultivate. 

The vibe wasn’t just good; it felt primed, the way a room does when everyone is carrying the same unspoken expectation that something big is about to happen.

The night opened with Coyote Island, A Maine-based project that knows exactly how to set a tone without forcing it. Their set felt warm and honest, carried by a rootsy pulse that didn’t overwhelm but instead quietly infiltrated with their mellow confidence. 

They didn’t rush. They let their sound breathe, and the room breathed with them. You could feel people settling into the night, easing into a rhythm, like they were stretching before a run they knew would take them far. It was gentle yet unwavering, the kind of opener that knows its purpose and delivers.

Next came Kash’d Out from Orlando, who immediately flipped the atmosphere. They brought the bounce, the swagger, the Florida sun-in-your-face energy that pushes a crowd from “warm” to “wide awake.” Their brand of reggae-rock hits with personality, loose enough for dancing and tight enough for respect.

They leaned into crowd interaction, feeding off the room’s rising energy, and kept the momentum climbing without blowing it out too quickly. Stage lights flickered with their playful rhythms, giving the space a jolt of color. It was a seamless shift from Coyote Island’s earthy calm to Kash’d Out’s rhythmic spark, and by the end of their set, Brooklyn Bowl wasn’t just warmed up, it was eager.

Then came the moment the entire night hinged on: The Elovaters. Their walk-on music immediately said everything about how they operate; playful, bold, and a little mischievous. A remix of the Jaws theme rolled through the speakers, slow and ominous, yet twisted into something groove-forward rather than menacing. It wasn’t a threat; it was a wink. A “You're gonna need a bigger boat” kind of entrance, and the crowd went wild.

Once the lights hit them, The Elovaters made one thing clear: they weren’t there to simply perform. They were there to lift. Their sound hit with intention. It was smooth but grounded, bright yet muscular, each instrument carrying an emotional clarity that made the entire room lock in. Nothing about their presence felt routine. They came in charged and fully locked, and that difference landed in every note.

Brooklyn Bowl, with its odd fusion of bowling lanes and concert energy, became the perfect backdrop. People bowled during songs, danced between frames, and laughed in between throws. It’s a venue that could easily be distracting, yet on this night, every section of the space was turned on and tuned in. Even the bowlers paused often to watch, drawn toward the stage like metal to a magnet.

As the set unfolded, it became clear that The Elovaters weren’t just giving Nashville a show. They were creating a shared experience. When they eased into “Shots Fired,” the crowd sank into a deeper groove. It wasn’t aggressive; it was cathartic, a smooth release that drew the entire room closer together.

When “Staring at the Sun” hit, bodies loosened, faces lifted, and the entire venue swayed as one. “Sunlight” wasn’t just played; it was felt. People sang with eyes closed, arms wrapped around each other, voices merging with a quiet strength that only emerges when a band and its fans are perfectly in sync.

The energy in the room was electric, pulsing like a steady heartbeat. Joy spilled into every corner. Friends hugged. Strangers danced together. Couples held onto one another as if the music was stitching them into the moment itself. Even the bartenders swayed while pouring a drink or two. This wasn’t party-rowdy; it was community-rowdy. Elevated, but never chaotic.

The Elovaters perform with a confidence that never spills into ego. They watched the crowd, responded to it, and fed off it. They knew when to push the tempo, when to stretch a moment, and when to dig into a groove and ride it. Their harmonies were tight, their rhythms unshakeable, and their presence powerful without being domineering. They weren’t just leading the crowd; they were partnering with it.

By mid-set, something shifted. The show no longer felt like a sequence of songs but a continuous emotional climb. People weren’t just listening; they were participating, locked into a shared headspace that rose higher with every track. The Elovaters did what great live bands do. They dissolved the barrier between stage and audience until everyone in the room carried the same charge.

As the night wound toward its close, the energy didn’t taper. It matured. The final songs weren’t burnouts; they were culminations, each one landing like the final chapter of a story the crowd knew they would want to relive. 

No one rushed for the exits. Instead, they drifted out slowly, still glowing, still lifted by what they had just experienced.

That’s the thing about The Elovaters. Their name isn’t just clever branding. They lift people emotionally, spiritually, and energetically. Long after the amps cooled and the last drink was poured, that lift stayed. You could see it in people’s faces on the way out. You could hear it in the chatter on the sidewalk. You could feel it in your chest long after midnight.

The Elovaters didn’t simply headline a show at Brooklyn Bowl Nashville. They transformed the space into a temporary world built on positivity, connection, rhythm, and release. It wasn’t a performance; it was an elevation. And everyone lucky enough to be there walked out carrying a lighter step than they walked in with.