TICKETS

$20 + fees
DAY OF SHOW: $25 + fees

PRE-SALE: Mon, Nov 9, 10 am
PUBLIC SALE: Fri, Nov 13, 10 am

For online ticketing sales & support, contact [email protected] or call 1-877-466-3404.
For in-person sales, visit the Lensic box office. 

VENUE: TUMBLEROOT BREWERY & DISTILLERY

SEATING: Limited 

ADA: Yes, please notify a Tumbleroot representative upon arrival

PARKING: Yes

ALCOHOL: Yes

OUTSIDE FOOD/DRINK: No

Please be advised that by entering this event, you are agreeing to being filmed and/or photographed, and the resulting assets may be used for Lensic marketing or promotional purposes. Should you wish not to be photographed or recorded on video, please notify a staff member or one of the event photographers/videographers.

HUDSON FREEMAN

Welcome to Doom Country. We’ve been waiting for you.

The new album from Hudson Freeman arrives, shattering any listeners’ malaise. Freeman delivers a post-rapture roadtrip album for the ages. Unshakeable riffs, philosophical explorations, and one heavy-ass band at his back. It’s a new high for the Brooklyn-based indie artist. A gorgeous record that weaves the intimate story telling of Andy Shauf, the expansive production of Arcade Fire’s The Suburbs, and the unflinching yet tasteful power of Wednesday's Rat Saw God. Fitting together into one stunning LP that introduces the world to Freeman’s ever-evolving sound. 
The record finds Freeman digging deeper into the sounds he’s most excited by, using them to spend time with the ideas that he’s most curious to understand. A band who has found and forged the heart of these songs on the road together, a team of collaborators willing to experiment sonically and live left of center. Songs about love, about how to live well, about what religion means to him in today’s world.
Born in Waxahachie, Texas to Evangelical missionaries, Freeman spent his early teen years in Eswatini before a crucial college stint in Missouri, led him to NY where he’s now making a home for himself and his wife, Sophia. Freeman is often reflecting on this unique upbringing, grappling with the teachings of religion and how it gets weaponized in both small and big ways, examining the internet’s ability to unite and divide. On his 2025 song, Good Faith, Hudson sings, “I just don't think there's a hell, man, at least besides the one we keep”. 

Here, on Doom Country, he investigates if that’s true and figures out how to survive within it. 

SEAN SOLOMON

"Animator, musician, and onetime Moaning frontman Sean Solomon’s new solo record is a pared-back, contemplative look into the psyche of a gentle, wounded soul ... Soft and slow, the melancholic 28-minute record is caught somewhere between a lullaby and an existential crisis." - Paste

"The L.A.-based musician favors disillusion over delirium, but his bummed-out, dissatisfied and wise-up narrators can’t help but carry at least a shred of what remains of their heart on their sleeve." - SPIN

As a musician, animator and physical media enthusiast, a VHS deluxe edition of his debut album ‘The World Is Not Good Enough’ feels like a natural next step for Los Angeles’s Sean Solomon. “I perform live with a VHS tape that has all my backing tracks and animated videos on it,” he explained. “If I make a mistake, I have to rewind. I love that danger and uncertainty. The tape warps, my gear sometimes breaks, and every show is a little different. I wanted to capture that in the recordings for the deluxe edition of my album. We recorded the whole thing onto a VHS tape, so the final result has all the imperfections and tape hiss you might hear at one of my shows.”

In anticipation of the deluxe edition’s release today Solomon has shared the VHS edition of the track “Finish Line”. Explaining the song’s origins, Solomon said: “I work in animation, and I’ve had tons of development deals where I think I’m going to create my own animated series. If they greenlight your show, suddenly you’re rich and have this awesome creative job. But every time I’ve almost had my dream job, there’s some corporate merger or layoffs and suddenly everyone I work with is fired and my dreams are squashed. That’s when I wrote the opening line “I thought I saw the finish line / but I was on a treadmill the whole time.”

He continued: “The song evolved into being about something more universal. How I expected more from the world. Not just for me but the people in my life that I love and see struggling. Everyone was going through some sort of rejection, and it felt unfair that you could work just as hard or harder than anyone else and still get the short end of the stick.”