Tape-born confessions, coast-to-coast.
Songs you might hear, faces you will see.
Born out of San Francisco's DIY folk scene,
Field Medic is Kevin Patrick Sullivan, a lo-fi songwriter who turns journal pages into melody. His recordings lean into tape hiss and porch-light strums, and live he keeps that raw edge while opening up the stories. Recent tours have him switching between solo sets with a boombox beat and a small backing group, but the heart stays the same. Expect a set that balances tender cuts like
henna tattoo,
i hate being high & i hate being low, and
the bottle's my lover, she's just my friend, with a scrappy sing-along like
house arrest. The crowd skews bookish and calm, with friends comparing favorite verses, a few flannels, and people who actually listen between songs. Quiet trivia for the curious: the project started with songs posted from a cheap tape machine, and the artist often brings harmonica to fill the edges of the mix. Another neat note:
floral prince was framed as a mixtape of one-take ideas from his notebook era, not a traditional studio album. Opener
Euphoria Again tends to add a hazy indie glow, setting up the folk grit with dream-heavy guitars. Take this as an informed guess drawn from recent gigs and releases; the exact songs and production touches can shift night to night.
Zines, Flannels, and Quiet Choruses: The Field Medic Scene
Quiet sing-alongs, careful listening.
DIY threads and friendly trades.
This crowd tends to hold it down during verses and then lift their voices on key choruses, like echoing the last line of
henna tattoo. You will notice thrifted denim, knit beanies, and a few hand-stitched patches, plus notebooks tucked into jacket pockets. People cluster near the merch table to compare cassette colors and zines, often buying a shirt that nods to
floral prince or a floral motif. Between songs, fans are respectful and chat in low tones about favorite lines rather than shouting requests. Some bring disposable cameras and trade photos online later, keeping the show memory lo-fi to match the sound. When
Field Medic steps into a hush, the room follows, and when he asks for a sing-along, it rises without fuss. It feels like a small community catching up, with a little West Coast ease even far from California.
Guitar Dust and Heartbeats: Field Medic Live
Small sounds, big feelings.
Choices that serve the song.
On stage,
Field Medic sings with a soft, nasal lilt that sits close to the mic, so every word sounds like a note passed across a table. The guitar work favors steady downstrokes and simple finger patterns, letting drones ring while the vocal carries the shape of the song. He often tunes the guitar down and uses a high capo to keep chords glassy while fitting his voice into a comfortable pocket. When there is a band, brushed snare, a round bass tone, and spare keys lift the choruses without crowding the stories. Tempos breathe a little, so a verse can linger and a chorus can rush just enough to feel human. Songs that were built on drum loops get a more percussive strum in concert, and outros sometimes stretch with harmonica lines. Lighting stays warm and low, with subtle color shifts that mark mood changes rather than big hits. The net effect is music-first and lyric-forward, with space left for the room to settle between lines.
If You Like Field Medic, Start Here
Kindred spirits on the road.
Fans of
Phoebe Bridgers often find
Field Medic for the whisper-quiet storytelling and the way soft songs still feel big in a room.
Skullcrusher lands nearby with airy folk textures and gentle reverb that reward close listening. If you like the cracked-heart honesty and offbeat humor of
Bright Eyes, this show lives in that neighborhood, just with more tape-grain. The crooked-pop instincts of
Alex G also overlap, especially in how both acts turn home-recorded quirks into hooks. Bridgers and Skullcrusher bring the hush; Bright Eyes and Alex G bring the diarist bite, which maps well onto
Field Medic's set. Any mix of those tastes tends to make this room feel like a shared library of feelings. Expect a similar age range and listening style, and the same patience for songs that take their time.
