At The Aviary, ‘unhinged’ pop creates a space for connection in Edmonton’s indie scene
Pink, glitter and emotional excess — The Aviary’s Lovebug Club show highlights a shift toward vulnerability in Edmonton’s indie scene.
Caylie G performs alongside their band at The Aviary. Photo credit: Lyra Brown
Pink streamers hang from the ceiling at The Aviary as disco balls catch the light along the edge of the stage. The room is packed, a sea of red, white and glittering outfits, as audience members press shoulder to shoulder, waiting for Caylie G to take the stage.
It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, but the energy inside the venue feels less like romance and more like release.
For Caylie G, whose new single Noelle is self-described as their “most unhinged” song yet, that response is exactly the point.
At The Aviary, that connection was visible throughout the crowd — not just in the energy of the room, but in how people described the experience.
“I just love supporting local artists,” said Lainey Robinson, who had previously performed alongside Caylie. “I felt so involved… it was honestly magical.”
Others were drawn in by the atmosphere — a space that felt both expressive and safe.
“Pink, sparkly, safe space for fans,” said Rhiannon Eichhorn.
Even new listeners quickly picked up on the emotional tone. Christopher Gothian, attending his first Caylie G show, described the music as “empowering” and “emotional,” adding that the night felt “so fun… like a pink vibe.”
For Caylie G, that emotional intensity is intentional. Their new single Noelle pushes into what they call more “unhinged” territory — rooted in vulnerability rather than chaos.
“I haven’t talked about sex very explicitly in my music before,” they said. “With this song, I wanted to allow myself to be honest and have fun with it.”
As conversations around women’s expression and sexuality continue to face criticism online, Caylie said they see artists like Sabrina Carpenter, Chappell Roan and Lola Young as part of a broader shift toward openness.
“Men are allowed to talk about sex and embrace that part of themselves, but women are expected not to,” they said. “I have absolutely zero interest in watering myself down at this point in my life.”
On stage, that shift comes with risk. Performing Noelle live, often in front of family, pushes them outside their comfort zone.
“It’s terrifying,” they said. “But growth shouldn’t be comfortable.”
Research on live music experiences suggests audiences are drawn to concerts for their emotional and social impact. A 2024 peer-reviewed study comparing livestreamed and recorded concerts found that real-time viewing creates a stronger sense of “social presence” — the feeling of being with others — and leads to higher levels of enjoyment. The study notes that people attend concerts “to be a part of something unique and special” and to “share this experience with like-minded others,” reinforcing why audiences are increasingly seeking shared, in-person experiences.
At The Aviary, that dynamic wasn’t theoretical — it was happening in real time.
For many in the crowd, the appeal wasn’t just the music itself, but the freedom to fully participate: to dress up, sing along and be part of something collective.
That sense of connection is something venues like The Aviary are intentionally creating.
For owner Philip Muz, the Lovebug Club show fits directly into the venue’s broader vision of community-driven programming.
“This show really goes well with The Aviary’s identity… a nice, friendly, safe space for a community to get together and share music,” he said.
While Valentine’s Day events have traditionally centred around couples, Muz said there has been a shift toward more community-focused experiences.
“People really want to get together with their friends and celebrate love in the way that we love our community,” he said.
That shift is also reflected in the rise of themed shows.
“Themes are what’s hitting now,” he said. “Young promoters [are] putting six, seven bands on the bill with a certain theme.”
For Muz, spaces like The Aviary play a key role in shaping Edmonton’s music culture.
“It’s crucial to have an art space… on the ground level of grassroots art,” he said.
By the end of the night, the room is still buzzing, glitter scattered across the floor, voices hoarse from singing, conversations spilling out onto the street.
Inside The Aviary, Valentine’s Day doesn’t feel like a performance of romance, but something looser, louder and more collective.
For a few hours, at least, vulnerability isn’t something to hide — it’s something shared.
