Review: Camp, Charm, and Connection: A Night with Sub-Radio and Zach Benson

Jul 7

06/27 @ Empire Underground, Albany

“Sub-Radio and Zach Benson have toured together before, and it makes perfect sense. They’re different sonically and visually, but they share the same heartbeat.”

A queer-coded night full of shimmering lights, insane talent, and performances that could’ve held their own on a Coachella stage. That’s what Empire Underground turned into Friday night with Sub-Radio and opener Zach Benson.

Let’s start with Benson. A star. Like, a real star. The kind where you leave thinking, “I need to be streaming everything this man has ever made.” He brought a cardboard cutout of Rihanna on stage holding a piece of his merch. That alone set the tone: campy, hilarious, totally iconic. But beyond that, he delivered: high energy, nonstop movement, sharp vocals, and a magnetic kind of charm that made the whole room fall for him. The set was interactive and joyful with singing, dancing, laughing, and swaying… never dipping in energy. By the time he closed with “Pink Pony Club,” the crowd was in it and screaming every word like they’d waited all week to let it out.

Sub-Radio and Zach Benson have toured together before, and it makes perfect sense. They’re different sonically and visually, but they share the same heartbeat. They love to perform, love to connect, and clearly love each other. The energy between them felt warm, generous, and magnetic.

From the moment the lights dropped, the room snapped into focus. Sub-Radio opened with “Pink Lemonade,” a joy-soaked track from their latest album Sunrise City that set the pace for the night. The band moved like they were built for this. Constant motion, call-and-response, playful choreography. The crowd kept up, already dancing, already singing. “Cool” turned into a full flashlight moment, arms swaying, voices echoing. “Caroline” hit like a fan favorite. Everything they played landed.

And then came “Clark Kent.”

I always fall for this part of a show, the inevitable moment when the tempo shifts, the lights cool, and the band leans into something slower.

The rhythm was deep and clean, but loose in the way that only happens when everyone’s fully immersed. You could feel each member dropping into the pocket of the song, not rushing, not overplaying, just riding it. There was no need for anything extra; the band had it covered. They slowed down, locked in with each other, and let the groove speak for itself. It was intimate without being sentimental. Funky without being showy. The kind of song that earns your attention.

They looked like they were in their own world for those few minutes. It was raw, focused, and absolutely stunning to watch.

Later in the show, Bradley slowed things down again to talk about the world outside the venue. “A lot of people have asked me, what can I do to help, and I’d have to say, I don’t know,” he said. “But I do know what makes me feel better, and it may not be the best thing, and it may not be the perfect thing, but my favorite thing to do to fight against hate,” He grinned, “...is to hate right back. So if you see a bigot at a Taco Bell or something, don’t be afraid to go up and punch them in the face.” The crowd burst into laughter. “I’m serious!”

Bradley kept the banter weird, light, and funny. He gave the kind of frontman energy that doesn’t need to prove anything. But this is a band, not a solo act. Michael Pereira on drums was electric. He was everywhere, jumping, running, interacting, and somehow still nailing every beat. The rest of the band followed that lead. No one stood still. No one faded into the background. They were having a blast, and the audience could feel it.

With three songs left to go, Bradley asked who was at their first concert. A bunch of hands went up. “Well, typically this is the point in the show where we’d step off stage, you’d all scream, we’d wait, and then we’d come back out and everyone would act shocked,” he said. “But, funny story, on tour with another band once, they took so long that people started to leave.” He laughed. “I don’t think we’re gonna leave the stage, but ‘One more song!’ is such a natural part of the concert experience, so after this one, how about you all just scream it for us before we do the last song, for the people who are at a concert for the first time.”

They did. Loudly. And the band gave them two more.

“Flashback,” the second-to-last track, was one of the most inventive tracks of the night. It broke structure in a way that felt playful and tight, shakers, clapping, weird percussion rhythms that hit perfectly. The entire band created rhythm with their bodies. It felt communal and raw.

They followed with “1990something,” the final song of the night–a big, bright track that sent everyone home dancing and breathless.

There was no pretense here. No polish-for-the-sake-of-it. Just a stage overflowing with talent and charisma, and an audience that was there for it. As always, the staff at Empire Underground were friendly, attentive, and warm. The cherry on top of a night that was already so goddamn beautiful.

Zach Benson Gallery by Kiki Vassilakis