Tally Underground

The Tallahassee music scene is characterized by giants. 

Creed––as beloved in 2026 as ever—has put a globally recognized trademark on our gritty Southern character since 1994. Rapper T-Pain’s stage name stands for Tallahassee Pain, a bittersweet homage to his childhood. Influential emo band Mayday Parade wrapped their “Three Cheers for 20 Years” tour with a sold-out show in their hometown venue, The Moon, last year. Now, folk singer-songwriter Ethel Cain has broken out of the 323, spreading a sound influenced by Tallahassee’s haunting beauty to Coachella and beyond. 

The capital’s indie music scene is just as formidable as these giants who have put Tallahassee on the musical map. Today, the artists who make this scene celebrate its unique character but also see clear opportunities for growth. 

One of these artists is John Brashears. Brashears, a classically trained pianist, overcame a neurological injury to one of his hands and found new expressive potential in indie music. Brashears relocated from Atlanta—known for its influential and competitive independent music scene—to Tallahassee in 2022, and was uniquely poised to appreciate how Tallahassee welcomes new acts when forming his own: the ambient-yet-melodic Sleep John B. 

“In the Atlanta scene, it’s so challenging to find a platform,” Brashears says. But as for Tallahassee, “There’s some other energy … It’s like still water. It’s so easy to tap into and find other musicians interested in creating.

Photos by @sw0mp.puppy

“I found that it was very, very fertile soil. I do think my music is so much better here than it was in Atlanta, and it feels like a rebirth.” 

And a platform isn’t hard to find, either. “I’m not sure that everyone who’s only lived here is aware of how easy it is to get your first show or two in Tallahassee,” Brashears says. 

There are relatively low barriers to entry at venues dedicated to serving the local music scene, like The Bark, 926 Bar & Grill, or Real Cool Time Records. 

Because the market for newcomers is so rich, Tallahassee’s discerning listeners seek music outside of the norm. “The audience is pretty tapped in and interested in hearing something good,” Brashears says. “They’ve heard the college bands that come out and do Led Zeppelin and AC/DC covers and then move away to do other things, and I don’t think they’re impressed by that. They’re looking for people who are really taking a risk.” 

But even when local artists take those risks, reap the artistic rewards, and secure venue time, there’s another ingredient for mainstream success not always present: major crowds.

Local bands often need to leave Tallahassee to find audiences larger than 30 or 40 at a show, drawing talent away from our city. But it’s a problem that just may be fixable. 

Photos by Josie Liederman

In a utopia, a new medium-to-large-sized venue with sustainable means of welcoming local bands might lure locals on a Friday night. But perhaps the greatest untapped resource is already here: the vibrant, varied, ecstatic, ubiquitous, and elusive student bodies of Florida State University, Florida A&M University, and Tallahassee State College. Or, as Brashears calls it, the “slumbering giant.” 

Local band Weatherboys are a part of this giant, but they’re wide awake. Their music, like Sleep John B’s, stands out from most newcomer bands; theirs is upbeat indie pop that’s equally suited to a local bar and a Friday night house party, but one of those options has proved more fruitful for the four-piece.

House shows are exactly what they sound like: Locals with “a big house with a backyard and friendly neighbors”host behemoth parties—sometimes boasting up to 500 primarily student guests—where young bands show their stuff. Despite the guaranteed exposure, the problem lies in quality engagement. 

The house show is a bit of an oxymoron, according to Weatherboys. Drummer and vocalist Aiden Suarez calls them “the purest form of fun you can have as a band. … It’s a lot more intimate. While a venue will give you a more professional sound, a house show lets you connect with the people.” But the band notes that this connection doesn’t apply evenly: “Half of [the audience is] there for the music, and the other half are just there to party,” says guitarist and vocalist Jacob Da Costa.  

In Weatherboys’ dream world, downtown accessibility is paramount. The band agrees that the addition of one or two more venues walkable from CollegeTown, an analog to the lost stage at The Wilbury, would beckon the largely pedestrian student body. 

Photos by Josie Liederman

Or, they wonder what might happen if the downtown bars students already frequent—which typically rely on DJ entertainment—added live music to their rotation. “Those clubs are great spots to play music, if they give bands a chance,” Da Costa adds. 

And for those of us who want to take a step to support indie artists but don’t happen to own a bar, what can we do to support our local scene? 

“Stream our music,” says Weatherboys bassist and vocalist Emma Claire. “Stay tuned.”

While the landscape is complex, this much is clear: The easiest thing we can do for our local music scene is to plug in our headphones and listen.  

A Woefully Incomplete List of Indie Acts

Sleep John B.

Weatherboys

The Brown Goose

Danitza

Palace Rats

St. Soleil 

Almost

The Yeah Babys

Pond Scum

Gangs of Paris