

There is a certain kind of artist that does not need reinvention to remain compelling. Rather than constantly reshaping their sound, some artists deepen it, leaning further into what has always worked. Glen Hansard has spent years building that kind of catalog, one rooted in raw emotion, political awareness and songwriting that feels lived in rather than manufactured. With two new LPs on the way under the title Don+T Settle, Hansard opened his North American tour at a sold-out The Lodge Room in Highland Park, delivering a performance that felt less like a reset and more like a continuation.
The Lodge Room was the perfect setting for it. Tucked just north of Downtown Los Angeles, the venue carries a quiet intimacy that rewards close listening. There is no need for spectacle in a room like this, and Hansard never tried to force it. The night leaned on atmosphere, musicianship and the kind of songwriting that asks a crowd to stay present.
Opening the evening was Margaret Glaspy, who took the stage right at 8 p.m. with an acoustic guitar and a solid red light glowing behind her. The setup was minimal, just spotlights and a voice that carried easily through the room. Her set had a stripped-down quality that at times echoed Jessica Pratt, but Glaspy brought a sharper edge to it.
Between songs, she kept things conversational, mentioning she had “a lot of music on [her] mind” and was ready to get it out. The set unfolded through small details — a harmonica appearing midway through, and moments where lines like “I’m on solid ground with the friends I found, nobody makes me feel little” were allowed to sit for a second before the next chord. She delivered a powerful cover of Lucinda Williams’ “Fruits of My Labor,” belting it in a way that briefly broke the calm of the set. She closed with “Have You Ever Seen the Rain” by Creedence Clearwater Revival, giving it a slower, more reflective feel that carried nicely into the transition.
At 9 p.m., Hansard walked onstage to a wave of cheers that immediately shifted the room. The red glow disappeared, replaced by soft spotlights that stretched into the crowd. He opened with a dramatic piano-backed moment before moving between acoustic and electric guitar throughout the night, never settling into just one sound for too long.
From early on, the performance felt personal. During “My Little Ruin,” he leaned into the line, “Come on my little ruin, won’t you open up and let me in,” with a kind of urgency that made the room feel even smaller. His band matched that energy throughout, moving through harmonies and transitions with an ease that felt natural rather than rehearsed.
As the set unfolded, it became clear how deeply rooted the performance was in both personal reflection and the world outside of it. During “Down on Our Knees,” Hansard delivered one of the night’s most direct moments: “Hijabs are burning, Roe v. Wade keeps overturning / It’s women’s hour, storm the mighty halls of power.” The room fell into a focused silence as the lines landed, not as a shock, but as something fully integrated into the tone of the night.
That same sense of weight carried into “Winning Streak,” where Hansard shifted into something quieter and more reflective. “And may the sign of the southern cross / Be some comfort to you when you’re lost / And may the devil’s evil, evil eye pass you by,” he sang, the lines landing softly but with intention. It felt less like a performance and more like something being offered to the room.
One of the most affecting stretches came during “Bird of Sorrow.” As the arrangement softened, Hansard leaned into the lyrics, “Even if a day feels too long / You feel like you can’t wait another one / You’re slowly givin’ up on everything / Love is gonna find you again,” letting the words carry without rushing them. In a room as quiet as the Lodge Room, the lines didn’t just land, they lingered.
The crowd met him in that space. For most of the night, the room stayed locked in, listening closely, letting songs breathe. But when moments opened up, the reaction was immediate. Applause between songs swelled into near standing-ovation levels, not out of obligation, but because it felt earned.
That energy peaked when Hansard brought out Markéta Irglová for “Falling Slowly.” As soon as the opening chords rang out, the crowd reacted instantly. People didn’t just recognize the song, they leaned into it. Voices filled the room as the audience sang along, turning the moment into something shared. By the final lines, it felt less like a performance and more like a memory happening in real time.
Throughout the night, Hansard balanced sincerity with small moments of humor, at one point joking about touring and press, framing the show itself as part performance, part conversation. He even acknowledged how nerve-wracking a first night of a tour can be, but if anything, that honesty made the set feel more alive.
By the time the night came to a close, what stood out most was not just the performance itself, but the way it was received. In a room built for listening, Glen Hansard delivered a set that asked the audience to slow down, sit with the music, and feel it fully.
And for a night like this, that was more than enough.
Setlist:
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Don’t Settle
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Didn’t He Ramble
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My Little Ruin
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Down On Our Knees
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Winning Streak
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Bird of Sorrow
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Great Weight
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Leave a Light
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The Feast of St. John
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Falling Slowly
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Revelate
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Wreckless Heart
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Fitzcarraldo
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A Messenger
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Song of Good Hope
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This Gift
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I Am Sorry How You Heard the News
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When Your Mind’s Made Up
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This is Your Hand in My Hand Let’s Let No One in the Middle
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Ravens
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Carrickfergus
