ARTIST PRESALE 7.29 10AM
GENERAL ONSALE 7.31 10AM
ONSITE PARKING OPENS 1 HOUR BEFORE DOORS
PURCHASE ONSITE PARKING HERE
Limit 4 tickets per household / customer / email / account / CC / address.
Purchases that exceed the 4 ticket limit are subject to cancellation.
Orders placed for the sole purpose of resale may be cancelled without notice.
The show will be held in a beautiful Masonic Lodge built in 1931.
There are no elevators in this historic landmark.
Ascending stairs is required to enter the venue.
Dragonflies
Fri Sep 18 2026
8:00 PM (Doors 7:00 PM)
All Ages
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Dragonflies
Music
It was all unknown territory. When longtime friends Dhani Harrison and Nigel Godrich started working on music, they didn’t know where it would end up. They both brought a shared musical language and multi-faceted, decades-long careers with them, each uniquely adept at production and an array of instruments. The two embarked on a series of sessions and songs burst out of them. “It’s like one person throwing something in the air and the other person catching it,” Godrich describes. Neither knew where the other might push them, but their respective instincts quickly led them to a new band and a new album. Dragonflies and their self-titled debut began as most projects do (or should): Friends bonding over the records they both love, entering the room to see what happens when they play together.
Godrich and Harrison had already known each other for years — running in the same circles, hanging out in nature, and admiring each other’s work from afar. During pandemic isolation, Harrison reached out to Godrich for advice and insight on what would become his 2023 solo album Innerstanding. Historically, Harrison helmed all his own projects and was averse to working with producers. At the same time, Godrich had reached the point where he was less interested in producing for strangers, eager only to make music with friends. Eventually, a conversation around Innerstanding led to a different conversation: Why don’t we try to work on something?
Godrich’s first impulse was to invite Harrison to his Brixton studio, to draw the latter out of his comfort zone. There, Godrich brought Harrison into his current way of working, which is creating tape loops as the basis for songs. The two found they generated a lot of material very quickly, with Godrich able to edit on the fly. “He’s a machine,” Harrison says, then adds with a laugh: “He has strong opinions about what he wants to hear, and for me it’s very humbling — that’s why it’s such a new experience for me.” Yet for Harrison, a student of the totemic alternative and electronic albums of late ‘90s Britain, working with his friend was a dream come true, and an experience in which each was able to shift roles. Harrison, himself used to being in control behind the computer, went to different places by operating primarily as a singer and guitarist. For his part, Godrich credits Harrison’s openness and compassion with allowing the writing process to be one of happy accidents, and began coming in with lyrics and melodies.
It was a unique way of working, both electronic and organic — laying down an idea, then chiseling the song into shape above mechanical sections of 24-track loops. Harrison conjured influences like Beth Gibbons, David Sylvian, and Ryuichi Sakamoto in his vocals, while the two refined their original recordings into layered grooves that could almost sound like trip-hop or electronic music, yet performed by hand. Most of Dragonflies was created just like that, Harrison and Godrich meeting up for brief yet highly productive sessions. Then, Godrich called in his Ultraísta/Atoms For Peace bandmate Joey Waronker to add more percussion. He also traveled to Los Angeles to work with composer and arranger David Campbell, his old associate from Beck’s iconic Sea Change. With Campbell’s touch, the sputtering drums, rippling piano, and frayed synths of tracks like “In Between” were draped in gorgeous string arrangements. Everything cohered into a sort of earthbound space-rock, music that was transportive and far-reaching without ever sounding stereotypically psychedelic.
The destination was appropriately cosmic for a project that felt like liberation for both Godrich and Harrison. “Dragonflies are a symbol of spiritual enlightenment,” Harrison explains. “When Nigel suggested the name I was like, yeah, sold, done. Whenever I see a dragonfly it’s magical.”
Dragonflies emerged from a period of both great change and stillness. After two decades primarily based in Los Angeles — leading bands like thenewno2 and scoring television and films — Harrison returned to his native England, shocked at the quiet remove back home. Compared to running himself ragged in LA, he felt free, and the next phase of his musical life blossomed. At the same time, Godrich had pulled back from touring and recording, and considered himself in semi-retirement. It was from the newfound silence in both of their lives that Dragonflies became a vehicle in which they could chase unforeseen sounds and horizons.
Fittingly, the first song they worked on, destined to be Dragonflies’ opener, was called “Slower.” Over a tumbling drum loop and searching guitar lines, Dragonflies welcome you into their world, before the subsequent seven tracks venture further out to sea. “It’s very much made as an album,” Godrich explains. “That’s the idea, and it does unfold.”
From there, Dragonflies does not zig or zag, but weaves. In “Setting Sun,” a gently propulsive bassline carries the duo to a chorus that achieves Godrich’s goal of “angular pop music.” Harrison’s flickering, fragmented piano loops dot the mystical atmosphere of “Ophelia,” while Godrich’s constant inversions of the human and the artificial turns the live drums and orchestrated grandeur of “The Weight” into something approximating a mournful dance track. The patient euphoria of seven-minute epic “End Of World” closes the album over atmospheric synths and found recordings of cicadas, playing like an ellipsis from the album’s more pensive moments to an as-yet-unseen sunrise — and towards whatever Dragonflies will become next.
By making Dragonflies, Harrison and Godrich discovered so much. They discovered a new, brotherly depth to their friendship, and the fact that their bond allowed them to explore emotions and aesthetics neither could in another project. Built on trust, their experiments led someplace unexpected for each, and opened the door for the future. Though their debut is only now completed, Dragonflies already have a second album’s worth of material ready for finishing touches, and plan to form a touring band to take this new music on the road.
“I mean, it’s really fun,” Godrich explains simply. “Why would you not want to keep going?”
“We could go even further,” Harrison concludes. “I’m still not sure what it is, where the band is going. But I want to go to that place more.”
All Ages
ARTIST PRESALE 7.29 10AM
GENERAL ONSALE 7.31 10AM
ONSITE PARKING OPENS 1 HOUR BEFORE DOORS
PURCHASE ONSITE PARKING HERE
Limit 4 tickets per household / customer / email / account / CC / address.
Purchases that exceed the 4 ticket limit are subject to cancellation.
Orders placed for the sole purpose of resale may be cancelled without notice.
The show will be held in a beautiful Masonic Lodge built in 1931.
There are no elevators in this historic landmark.
Ascending stairs is required to enter the venue.
GENERAL ONSALE 7.31 10AM
ONSITE PARKING OPENS 1 HOUR BEFORE DOORS
PURCHASE ONSITE PARKING HERE
Limit 4 tickets per household / customer / email / account / CC / address.
Purchases that exceed the 4 ticket limit are subject to cancellation.
Orders placed for the sole purpose of resale may be cancelled without notice.
The show will be held in a beautiful Masonic Lodge built in 1931.
There are no elevators in this historic landmark.
Ascending stairs is required to enter the venue.
Dragonflies
Music
It was all unknown territory. When longtime friends Dhani Harrison and Nigel Godrich started working on music, they didn’t know where it would end up. They both brought a shared musical language and multi-faceted, decades-long careers with them, each uniquely adept at production and an array of instruments. The two embarked on a series of sessions and songs burst out of them. “It’s like one person throwing something in the air and the other person catching it,” Godrich describes. Neither knew where the other might push them, but their respective instincts quickly led them to a new band and a new album. Dragonflies and their self-titled debut began as most projects do (or should): Friends bonding over the records they both love, entering the room to see what happens when they play together.
Godrich and Harrison had already known each other for years — running in the same circles, hanging out in nature, and admiring each other’s work from afar. During pandemic isolation, Harrison reached out to Godrich for advice and insight on what would become his 2023 solo album Innerstanding. Historically, Harrison helmed all his own projects and was averse to working with producers. At the same time, Godrich had reached the point where he was less interested in producing for strangers, eager only to make music with friends. Eventually, a conversation around Innerstanding led to a different conversation: Why don’t we try to work on something?
Godrich’s first impulse was to invite Harrison to his Brixton studio, to draw the latter out of his comfort zone. There, Godrich brought Harrison into his current way of working, which is creating tape loops as the basis for songs. The two found they generated a lot of material very quickly, with Godrich able to edit on the fly. “He’s a machine,” Harrison says, then adds with a laugh: “He has strong opinions about what he wants to hear, and for me it’s very humbling — that’s why it’s such a new experience for me.” Yet for Harrison, a student of the totemic alternative and electronic albums of late ‘90s Britain, working with his friend was a dream come true, and an experience in which each was able to shift roles. Harrison, himself used to being in control behind the computer, went to different places by operating primarily as a singer and guitarist. For his part, Godrich credits Harrison’s openness and compassion with allowing the writing process to be one of happy accidents, and began coming in with lyrics and melodies.
It was a unique way of working, both electronic and organic — laying down an idea, then chiseling the song into shape above mechanical sections of 24-track loops. Harrison conjured influences like Beth Gibbons, David Sylvian, and Ryuichi Sakamoto in his vocals, while the two refined their original recordings into layered grooves that could almost sound like trip-hop or electronic music, yet performed by hand. Most of Dragonflies was created just like that, Harrison and Godrich meeting up for brief yet highly productive sessions. Then, Godrich called in his Ultraísta/Atoms For Peace bandmate Joey Waronker to add more percussion. He also traveled to Los Angeles to work with composer and arranger David Campbell, his old associate from Beck’s iconic Sea Change. With Campbell’s touch, the sputtering drums, rippling piano, and frayed synths of tracks like “In Between” were draped in gorgeous string arrangements. Everything cohered into a sort of earthbound space-rock, music that was transportive and far-reaching without ever sounding stereotypically psychedelic.
The destination was appropriately cosmic for a project that felt like liberation for both Godrich and Harrison. “Dragonflies are a symbol of spiritual enlightenment,” Harrison explains. “When Nigel suggested the name I was like, yeah, sold, done. Whenever I see a dragonfly it’s magical.”
Dragonflies emerged from a period of both great change and stillness. After two decades primarily based in Los Angeles — leading bands like thenewno2 and scoring television and films — Harrison returned to his native England, shocked at the quiet remove back home. Compared to running himself ragged in LA, he felt free, and the next phase of his musical life blossomed. At the same time, Godrich had pulled back from touring and recording, and considered himself in semi-retirement. It was from the newfound silence in both of their lives that Dragonflies became a vehicle in which they could chase unforeseen sounds and horizons.
Fittingly, the first song they worked on, destined to be Dragonflies’ opener, was called “Slower.” Over a tumbling drum loop and searching guitar lines, Dragonflies welcome you into their world, before the subsequent seven tracks venture further out to sea. “It’s very much made as an album,” Godrich explains. “That’s the idea, and it does unfold.”
From there, Dragonflies does not zig or zag, but weaves. In “Setting Sun,” a gently propulsive bassline carries the duo to a chorus that achieves Godrich’s goal of “angular pop music.” Harrison’s flickering, fragmented piano loops dot the mystical atmosphere of “Ophelia,” while Godrich’s constant inversions of the human and the artificial turns the live drums and orchestrated grandeur of “The Weight” into something approximating a mournful dance track. The patient euphoria of seven-minute epic “End Of World” closes the album over atmospheric synths and found recordings of cicadas, playing like an ellipsis from the album’s more pensive moments to an as-yet-unseen sunrise — and towards whatever Dragonflies will become next.
By making Dragonflies, Harrison and Godrich discovered so much. They discovered a new, brotherly depth to their friendship, and the fact that their bond allowed them to explore emotions and aesthetics neither could in another project. Built on trust, their experiments led someplace unexpected for each, and opened the door for the future. Though their debut is only now completed, Dragonflies already have a second album’s worth of material ready for finishing touches, and plan to form a touring band to take this new music on the road.
“I mean, it’s really fun,” Godrich explains simply. “Why would you not want to keep going?”
“We could go even further,” Harrison concludes. “I’m still not sure what it is, where the band is going. But I want to go to that place more.”
Godrich and Harrison had already known each other for years — running in the same circles, hanging out in nature, and admiring each other’s work from afar. During pandemic isolation, Harrison reached out to Godrich for advice and insight on what would become his 2023 solo album Innerstanding. Historically, Harrison helmed all his own projects and was averse to working with producers. At the same time, Godrich had reached the point where he was less interested in producing for strangers, eager only to make music with friends. Eventually, a conversation around Innerstanding led to a different conversation: Why don’t we try to work on something?
Godrich’s first impulse was to invite Harrison to his Brixton studio, to draw the latter out of his comfort zone. There, Godrich brought Harrison into his current way of working, which is creating tape loops as the basis for songs. The two found they generated a lot of material very quickly, with Godrich able to edit on the fly. “He’s a machine,” Harrison says, then adds with a laugh: “He has strong opinions about what he wants to hear, and for me it’s very humbling — that’s why it’s such a new experience for me.” Yet for Harrison, a student of the totemic alternative and electronic albums of late ‘90s Britain, working with his friend was a dream come true, and an experience in which each was able to shift roles. Harrison, himself used to being in control behind the computer, went to different places by operating primarily as a singer and guitarist. For his part, Godrich credits Harrison’s openness and compassion with allowing the writing process to be one of happy accidents, and began coming in with lyrics and melodies.
It was a unique way of working, both electronic and organic — laying down an idea, then chiseling the song into shape above mechanical sections of 24-track loops. Harrison conjured influences like Beth Gibbons, David Sylvian, and Ryuichi Sakamoto in his vocals, while the two refined their original recordings into layered grooves that could almost sound like trip-hop or electronic music, yet performed by hand. Most of Dragonflies was created just like that, Harrison and Godrich meeting up for brief yet highly productive sessions. Then, Godrich called in his Ultraísta/Atoms For Peace bandmate Joey Waronker to add more percussion. He also traveled to Los Angeles to work with composer and arranger David Campbell, his old associate from Beck’s iconic Sea Change. With Campbell’s touch, the sputtering drums, rippling piano, and frayed synths of tracks like “In Between” were draped in gorgeous string arrangements. Everything cohered into a sort of earthbound space-rock, music that was transportive and far-reaching without ever sounding stereotypically psychedelic.
The destination was appropriately cosmic for a project that felt like liberation for both Godrich and Harrison. “Dragonflies are a symbol of spiritual enlightenment,” Harrison explains. “When Nigel suggested the name I was like, yeah, sold, done. Whenever I see a dragonfly it’s magical.”
Dragonflies emerged from a period of both great change and stillness. After two decades primarily based in Los Angeles — leading bands like thenewno2 and scoring television and films — Harrison returned to his native England, shocked at the quiet remove back home. Compared to running himself ragged in LA, he felt free, and the next phase of his musical life blossomed. At the same time, Godrich had pulled back from touring and recording, and considered himself in semi-retirement. It was from the newfound silence in both of their lives that Dragonflies became a vehicle in which they could chase unforeseen sounds and horizons.
Fittingly, the first song they worked on, destined to be Dragonflies’ opener, was called “Slower.” Over a tumbling drum loop and searching guitar lines, Dragonflies welcome you into their world, before the subsequent seven tracks venture further out to sea. “It’s very much made as an album,” Godrich explains. “That’s the idea, and it does unfold.”
From there, Dragonflies does not zig or zag, but weaves. In “Setting Sun,” a gently propulsive bassline carries the duo to a chorus that achieves Godrich’s goal of “angular pop music.” Harrison’s flickering, fragmented piano loops dot the mystical atmosphere of “Ophelia,” while Godrich’s constant inversions of the human and the artificial turns the live drums and orchestrated grandeur of “The Weight” into something approximating a mournful dance track. The patient euphoria of seven-minute epic “End Of World” closes the album over atmospheric synths and found recordings of cicadas, playing like an ellipsis from the album’s more pensive moments to an as-yet-unseen sunrise — and towards whatever Dragonflies will become next.
By making Dragonflies, Harrison and Godrich discovered so much. They discovered a new, brotherly depth to their friendship, and the fact that their bond allowed them to explore emotions and aesthetics neither could in another project. Built on trust, their experiments led someplace unexpected for each, and opened the door for the future. Though their debut is only now completed, Dragonflies already have a second album’s worth of material ready for finishing touches, and plan to form a touring band to take this new music on the road.
“I mean, it’s really fun,” Godrich explains simply. “Why would you not want to keep going?”
“We could go even further,” Harrison concludes. “I’m still not sure what it is, where the band is going. But I want to go to that place more.”
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