by Connor Dixon
Sunday March 22nd, 2026
On a warm Sunday evening, a line stretched down R Street in Sacramento, wrapping around the block outside Ace of Spades. Fans buzzed with anticipation, and the energy outside already hinted at what was about to unfold within. Bringing their Flowers tour to Sacramento, The Devil Wears Prada arrived with a stacked lineup that set a tone for the night. Support came from I Promised The World, Split Chain, and Four Year Strong, each bringing their own energy and style. The night felt like a full-spectrum showcase of modern heavy music, building momentum with every act that hit the stage.
The house lights dropped to black as The Devil Wears Prada’s logo flickered to life across the screen. A lone spotlight found Jonathan Gering, who eased into the ambient intro of “Where The Flowers Never Grow.” One by one, The Devil Wears Prada took the stage, silhouettes emerging through the darkness. The room held its breath for a split second, then, without warning, the band detonated into the song, erupting in full force as fog cannons blasted into the air. Mike Hranica and Jeremy DePoyster could be spotted center stage, leading the group, voices colliding in the best possible way. Rather than competing, the contrast created a layered intensity that was harsh and beautiful at the same time.
Touring in support of Flowers, the band delivered a set that leaned confidently into the present without losing sight of their past. The newer material felt sharpened for the stage, hitting with the same emotional weight as the recordings while gaining an added sense of urgency live. Gering’s atmospheric keys and backing textures filled the gaps between crushing riffs, giving the performance a cinematic depth that elevated it beyond sheer heaviness. At the same time, the setlist reached back just far enough to reward longtime fans, each familiar moment landing with a surge of recognition that rippled through the crowd.
That connection spilled over into chaos in the best way. A fan crowdsurfing in a Teletubbie costume drew laughter from both the crowd and the stage, a quick flash of absurdity in an otherwise intense set. Meanwhile, the band had no problem pushing the energy higher, calling for circle pits that the audience immediately delivered on, the floor opening and colliding on command. While bodies moved in constant motion up front, the ever-shifting visuals behind the band demanded just as much attention, glitching, blooming, and morphing in sync with the music, reinforcing the emotional tone of each track and pulling the entire room deeper into the experience.
What stood out most, though, was the balance. The Devil Wears Prada have spent years refining their sound, and it shows, not just in how tight they are as a unit, but in how they control a room. They know when to let songs breathe and when to push things to the brink, creating a set that never plateaued. Even in its heaviest moments, there was intention behind every shift, every pause, every explosion.
The encore added a clever twist, introducing the new track “Play the Old Shit” before closing the night with “Assistant to the Regional Manager” and “Hey John, What’s Your Name Again?”, an ironic nod to the band’s past that brought the show full circle. It was a fitting end to a set that celebrated both where they’ve been and where they’re headed. Giving new and longtime fans alike exactly what they came for, The Devil Wears Prada did indeed “Play the Old Shit”
