Just as I’ve gotten used to live concerts being resurrected in the past year or so, I’ve gotten used to them being called off, with the still relevant Miss Rona being the most common culprit. It’s become a surprise for a show I have tickets for to get cancelled for a reason that isn’t her persistent, lingering death dance. From Ticketmaster royally screwing over DEVO’s Radio City Music Hall date last year (which I’ll be making up for in May) to a band Melt-Banana was to play with postponing the whole tour due to visa problems, I guess I’ve just gotten used to shows getting cancelled in general. Most absurdly of all was definitely the reason why I had to wait until Tuesday to see indie rock outfit Snail Mail; the group’s tour was supposed to begin months ago, and we had tickets (at the behest of my dad). It was called off not because of a COVID case or travel visa problem but because lead singer Lindsey Jordan got polyps on her throat that kept her from singing, because life is just like that.

Luckily, her voice has healed and the band is back on the road. Tuesday’s show at Union Transfer was the first date of the tour, and the attendees of its upcoming dates surely have something to look forward to.

It was actually my first time in the City of Brotherly Love, good old Philadelphia, which greeted us with a law firm’s billboard that had the word “jawn” on it to declare that, yes, this is Philadelphia. To keep from straying too far from the venue, we sat down at the neighboring La Chinesca restaurant, which serves an eclectic fusion of Chinese and Mexican food. The eats were delicious and extremely fun. Who else would’ve thought to dip fried wonton chips in cilantro dip? Even better was that, inside and out, the place looks like you’ve stepped into a Californian mid-mod time warp to a future where radioactive space mushroom structures support stucco buildings and people eat in bubble structures bulging up from fake grass. I would’ve stayed much longer if I didn’t have a show to see.

Walking into Union Transfer afterwards, it felt strange being in such a large venue after many shows in cramped little clubs. But I got comfortable quickly. What we saw of opening band Joy Again were okay, with the highlight being a boxed cake being crowdsurfed over to a friend of the band who was having a birthday. But Snail Mail’s set was the real sweet treat everyone was waiting for, with the stage decked out in ivy-wrapped cupid statues. You wouldn’t have realized Lindsey Jordan’s previous sickness had she not mentioned it between songs (“I feel like I’m a eunuch, I’m like, EEEEEEEE”). Her voice—and a very unique one at that—sounded in top shape throughout the night. The rest of the band followed suit instrumentally, with each song coming out tight and precise with an appropriate amount of love for the good old nineties (they covered “Tonight, Tonight” during the second half of their set, and apparently their stage set up is In Utero inspired). From far back in the crowd, the light show was simply fantastic, with color palette changes between each song and occasional psychedelic effects that really made me smile. The band definitely had an atmosphere in mind, and they communicated it perfectly. I may not listen to them too often, but it was great to see.

The show’s encore began with Lindsey alone with her guitar, singing a solemn and beautiful song bathed in light. Suddenly, I heard a commotion behind me. I turned around to see, in complete contrast, a flailing woman being pulled off of someone else by at least two other people. We learned later that somebody got punched. I’m not quite sure what could have stirred that considering the mood of the performance, but I guess Philadelphia is Philadelphia for a reason. Luckily, I was safely socially distanced. It was worrying in the moment, yet hilarious afterwards. A catfight at a show where most of the songs being played were about longing for love. Life is like that.