On a recent night in Lincoln Heights, KCRW and Make Out Music’s weekly showcase School Night returned to The Airliner, bringing together a lineup that captured three very different corners of the indie spectrum. With roughly 150 people packed into the room, the evening moved from high-energy crowd interaction to dreamy synth-pop intimacy before closing with a set that hinted at a new, heavier direction for one of LA’s most recognizable dream-pop projects.

The night opened with Stefan Thev, whose set immediately felt less like a traditional opener and more like a gathering of friends. Many in the audience clearly already knew him — or at least his songs. Groups clustered near the front shouted lyrics back toward the stage, dancing and calling out encouragement between tracks. Thev’s music sits somewhere between high-energy indie pop and alternative rock, but what stands out most in a live setting is his instinct for crowd participation.

At one point, he turned the room into a game, dividing the audience into sections: left side and right side, or front and back. Each group was given a role — shouting lyrics, responding to cues, or simply screaming as loudly as possible. The exercise could have felt gimmicky in less capable hands, but Thev leaned into the chaos with enthusiasm, and the crowd followed. The result was loose, playful, and surprisingly effective in transforming the room into a collective performance.

It was also a familiar face for me personally. Just a few weeks earlier, I had photographed a festival where Thev appeared on the lineup, and seeing him again here — in a smaller room but with an equally enthusiastic audience — underscored how quickly his live following seems to be growing. His ability to command a room is undeniable, and even those who hadn’t arrived as fans were quickly pulled into the momentum of his set.

If Stefan Thev’s performance was all adrenaline and crowd energy, Pool Girl offered a striking shift in mood. Where Thev’s set leaned outward, encouraging participation, Pool Girl’s music turned inward. Her sound sits firmly within the world of indie pop and dream pop, built on lush synth textures, melodic basslines, and soft, layered harmonies.

The atmosphere in the room softened almost immediately. The songs carried a lullaby-like quality — gentle and immersive, yet anchored by grooves that kept them from drifting too far into pure ambience. Bass and synth lines often formed the backbone of the arrangements, creating a warm, enveloping sonic palette that contrasted sharply with the kinetic energy of the opening set.

At one point during the performance, someone in the crowd audibly commented on a particularly catchy keyboard riff — a small but telling moment that captured the mood of the room. Pool Girl’s songwriting is deceptively intricate, balancing delicate melodies with carefully layered production elements.

She also hinted at what’s next. Several songs performed that night were new material, and they suggested a richer, more atmospheric direction for her upcoming album, which is expected later this year. Compared to earlier work, these new tracks felt fuller — more expansive in sound design while still maintaining the intimate vulnerability that defines her style.

Visually and musically, Pool Girl’s presence carried a soft magnetism. There’s a fragile sincerity to her delivery that makes the music feel personal, almost private, even in a crowded room. It’s the kind of performance that draws listeners closer rather than pushing outward.

Closing the night were The Undercover Dream Lovers, the Los Angeles project led by singer-songwriter Matt Koenig. Over the years, the band has built a reputation for nostalgic, synth-driven dream pop — the kind of music that feels equally at home on late-night drives and sunlit festival stages. Songs like “A Way Out” and “Weekend Love” helped establish their identity as masters of shimmering, groove-heavy indie pop.

But the set at School Night suggested that the band is entering a new phase.

Earlier in the evening, I had spoken briefly with the band’s bassist and mentioned some of their older material. His response was revealing: the night’s setlist would be drawn almost entirely from new songs from their upcoming album. What followed confirmed that shift.

The sound was noticeably different from the band’s earlier work. Where previous releases leaned into dreamy synth textures and smooth basslines, the new material pushed toward something louder, heavier, and more rock-oriented. Guitars took on a more prominent role, and the rhythm section felt more aggressive than before. The drummer, in particular, brought a relentless intensity to the performance, driving the songs forward with sharp, energetic precision.

At moments, Koenig’s vocals also took on a rawer edge, with more screaming and projection than listeners might expect from the band’s recorded material. The change created a sharper, more urgent atmosphere onstage — less nostalgic dream pop, more indie rock catharsis.

The shift didn’t abandon the band’s melodic instincts entirely. Synth elements still surfaced throughout the arrangements, and flashes of their signature groove remained, but the overall direction felt like a deliberate evolution rather than a continuation of their earlier sound.

For longtime listeners expecting the familiar glow of their older catalog, the transformation might come as a surprise. But as a preview of the band’s upcoming record, the performance offered a compelling glimpse of where they may be heading next.

By the time the final set wrapped, the night had traced a surprisingly wide arc: from Stefan Thev’s participatory indie chaos, through Pool Girl’s dreamy introspection, to The Undercover Dream Lovers’ more aggressive sonic pivot.

That range is part of what makes School Night such a valuable fixture in the Los Angeles music ecosystem. As a weekly showcase curated by KCRW and Make Out Music, the series continues to function as a kind of living snapshot of the city’s evolving indie landscape — a space where emerging artists test new material, established acts experiment with new directions, and audiences discover sounds they might not have encountered otherwise.