You can often judge a show’s success by the length of the merch line when the lights come up. These are economically tough times, and pricey shirts or vinyls usually take a backseat to rent and utilities. Yet despite that—and despite much of the audience being students under 25—half the crowd at the Exchange pressed forward to grab tees, posters, and records from the night’s artist: Mei Semones.
Fans leaned across the merch table, hands outstretched for a signature, a selfie, or just a word of thanks. Semones greeted each with a gentle smile and the occasional eshaku bow, her calm presence cutting through the hum of the crowd. The energy was quiet but palpable, a warm ripple moving through the room. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
So what sparked the merch rush at 10:30 on a Tuesday night? Bossa nova and jazz-infused indie sung in both Japanese and English, of course. Brooklyn-based Mei Semones has steadily earned recognition for her fluid guitar work and genre-blending finesse. Half Japanese on her mother’s side, she spent summers in Japan, soaking in the language and culture. Combined with a love of the guitar that took her through an award-winning high school jazz program and later Berklee College of Music, Semones has crafted a sound that feels nostalgic and soothing, yet fresh and adventurous. Add a dash of anime-inspired street fashion and a hint of Y2K flair, and it’s clear: the kids have found a new hero.
Before the main event, we were treated to support from Semones’ Berklee College buddy, Kenzo Divic. New to UK shores, Divic was soaking up life outside London and the historic pubs surrounding the Exchange. His delicate, fragile songs backed by gentle slide guitar and bass set the evening’s tone perfectly, crafting soundscapes you could drown in. Impressive fingerpicking carried his subtle yet immersive tunes, leaving the crowd of roughly 150 transfixed. His melodies enchanted the room—so much that we could have easily lapped up another 30-minute set.
By 9 p.m., it was time for Semones—backed by violin, viola, drums, and bass—to take the stage. From the first notes, jaws dropped at the jazz scales spinning beneath her sweet vocals. No disrespect to the noisy acts I usually cover, but the musicianship was on another level. Playing a surprisingly hefty set of 19 tracks, Mei barely paused, only occasionally offering a “thank you” or a shout-out to Gloucester’s award-winning roadside Farmshop.
No banter was needed, though. Semones let her trusted cherry mahogany PRS do the talking. It’s a rare, refreshing sight to see an audience locked in for an entire set, each round of applause swelling louder than the last. When a couple near the exit dared to chat about other bands, they were met with multiple death stares. After nearly an hour and a half of flawless violin plucks, drum shuffles, and fluid bass slides, the set came to a close. But the most riotous moment arrived afterwards.
After the final note, the crowd surged toward the merch stand, elbows brushing and phones ready. Vinyl copies of this year’s debut Animaru—each quickly signed by Mei herself—were disappearing nicely. Fans clutched items of merch, chatting excitedly as the last echoes of the set lingered in the air. Experiencing her Bristol debut in such an intimate space felt fleeting, a rare moment before bigger stages inevitably call. Outside, the cool evening air reminded everyone the night was over, but the music lingered long after.