by Viviana Mendoza
There are some venues that feel like chapters of your life. Bottom of the Hill has always been one of those places. Tucked away, a little gritty, always alive. The kind of room where you’ve gone on first dates, where you discovered bands you’d end up loving for years, where you showed up on a random night just because the name on the flyer sounded cool and somehow it turned into one of the best nights of your life.
It’s the kind of place where the vibes are always right. Where you’ve danced with friends, lost your voice, made memories you didn’t realize were sticking until much later. Walking back in for what might be one of my last shows there felt surreal. Like stepping into all of those moments at once, past and present folding into each other.
On this night, that feeling was soundtracked by The Technicolors, with support from Theo Moss and Veaux. The room was packed wall to wall, bodies pressed close to the stage, the kind of crowd where you could feel the heat before the first note even hit. At one point, it got so full the fire marshal showed up, which only added to the sense that this was something special, something people weren’t about to miss. It had been years since The Technicolors had played San Francisco, and you could feel how much that return meant.
Theo Moss opened the night with a set that felt quietly stunning. From the moment she stepped on stage, there was an ease to her presence, the kind that immediately draws you in without needing to demand attention. Her voice was hypnotizing, soft but powerful in a way that lingered in the room long after each note faded.
There was something really beautiful about the way she carried each song, letting melodies stretch and settle into the space. The crowd softened with her, conversations faded, and people leaned in, fully present. It felt like the kind of performance that doesn’t just fill a slot, but creates a moment.
There’s a natural talent there that feels undeniable. The kind that makes you pause and think about where she’s headed next. Watching her set, it was hard not to feel like this is just the beginning, and that there’s so much more ahead for her.
By the time Veaux took the stage, the room had fully filled in and something shifted. There was an immediate sense that this was going to be fun. Not in a casual way, but in a fully immersive, lose-yourself-in-it kind of way.
From the first few songs, their groove locked in. Their sound sits somewhere between alt-pop, indie rock, and something a little more soulful, but live it feels bigger than that. It moves. It pulses. It pulls you forward. There’s a rhythm that runs through everything they do that makes it almost impossible to stand still.
And that’s exactly what happened. The crowd started dancing without hesitation. Not the polite kind of swaying you get at most opener sets, but real movement. Shoulders loosening, hips shifting, people turning to their friends like, wait… this is actually so good.
There’s something about Veaux’s live energy that feels effortless but intentional at the same time. Their music carries a consistent groove and it makes you want to move. It wasn’t just the sound. It was their presence. Confident, playful, and fully locked into the moment.
They didn’t overcomplicate anything. They just let the songs breathe and trusted the energy to build, and it did. By the middle of their set, it felt like the entire room was on the same wavelength.
I went in not knowing them at all and left completely won over. The kind of band you immediately look up on the way home, already thinking about when you’ll get to see them again.
When The Technicolors took the stage, it didn’t feel like just another set. It felt like a release. Like something people had been waiting on for a long time.
From the first notes, their energy filled the room in a way that felt immediate and undeniable. There’s a certain swagger to their sound, this blend of indie rock, Britpop influence, and groove-driven rhythm that makes everything feel both nostalgic and fresh at the same time. It’s the kind of music that doesn’t just sit with you, it moves you.
“Dress Up For You” was one of those moments where everything clicked. The crowd leaned in, voices lifting, that shared recognition of a song that means something a little deeper. It felt warm and familiar, like hearing something you’ve carried with you for years in a completely new way.
They slipped into “Lilies for Lily” later in the set and the reaction was instant. A classic. The kind of song that reminds you how long they’ve been soundtracking people’s lives. You could see it in the crowd, people singing along without hesitation, fully locked into the moment.
What makes The Technicolors so special live is how effortless it all feels. The guitars hit hard but never feel heavy. The melodies stay bright even when the lyrics carry weight. There’s a rhythm to their set that keeps everything moving, this steady pulse that builds and builds until the entire room is caught in it.
By the time they reached the end of the night, the energy felt almost weightless. Closing with “Space Cadet” and “Tonight You Are Mine” was perfect. Those songs carry this kind of joy that feels simple but real, the kind that reminds you why you fell in love with music in the first place. The room was fully alive, people dancing, smiling, holding onto those last moments before the lights came up.
And standing there, camera in hand, in a venue that holds so much history for you, watching a band that means so much to you play a sold-out show after being away for years, it all felt layered in the best way. Past versions of yourself, present moment, everything colliding in one space.
It didn’t feel like just a set. It felt like a memory being sealed in real time.
By the time the last notes faded and the lights came up, no one really wanted to leave. People lingered a little longer, like stepping outside would mean the night was officially over.
There was something about being back in that room, surrounded by that kind of energy, that made everything feel a little more vivid. The music, the crowd, the memories tied to that space, all of it layered together in a way that’s hard to recreate anywhere else.
If this really was one of my last nights at Bottom of the Hill, I can’t think of a better way for it to go. A packed room, a band I love, new artists I’ll keep listening to, and a night that felt exactly like all the reasons I’ve kept coming back over the years.
Some places just stay with you. This will always be one of them.
