There’s no cool-kid posturing at LASSO, no ironic distance, no snide detachment. You’re either in the crowd belting out every lyric you know and slurring the ones you don't all covered in dust—or you’re not. And in 2025, Montreal showed up.
For two days, Parc Jean-Drapeau turned into a country music love letter, a cowboy-core fever dream where fringe flapped in the breeze, guitars wailed into the night, and (so we heard, unconfirmed) at least three people proposed during slow songs. Photographers were there to catch all the boots mid-kick, beers mid-splash, choruses mid-tear in between.
Here’s what photographers Eva Blue (@evablue) and Alexa Kavoukis (@alexa.kavoukis) saw from the front row, the barricade, and somewhere in the middle of a beer-fuelled two-step circle pit.
Day 1
Friday, August 15: Rhinestone rodeo and a gritty mic drop
Friday kicked off with a bang and a bassline—yes, country has bass now. Shaboozey cracked open the afternoon with a genre-blurring set that had the front row waving their hats. Wyatt Flores and Willow Avalon delivered heartland angst with an acoustic guitar and a voice soaked in heartbreak.
Local favourites like Cindy Bédard and Chloé Leclerc brought heartfelt Québécois twang to the early lineup, while Charles Wesley Godwin hit the Valley Stage like a freight train of Appalachian soul.
But the biggest surprise was just how hard Montreal fell for Sheryl Crow. Decked in denim and calm confidence, she peeled off hit after hit like it was nothing. Soak Up the Sun, My Favorite Mistake, Everyday Is a Winding Road—she turned the island into a collective karaoke bar. And when the sky finally turned pink behind the skyline, she closed with If It Makes You Happy—a perfect, cathartic punctuation to day one.
Eva Blue:
Alexa Kavoukis:
Day 2
Saturday, August 16: Big Hats and Bigger Drops
Saturday brought the heat—literally and musically. Riley Green launched into sun-drenched anthems with enough Southern charm to convert even the sceptics. Tucker Wetmore showed up ready to break hearts and sell beer at the same time, all smooth vocals and stadium swagger. Dasha followed with a breakout set that was part pop, part twang, and all confidence—Austin hit especially hard, and the crowd knew every word.
VAVO turned the tent into a boot-stomping rave, while The Dead South got people moshing with mandolins.
Then came Jelly Roll.
He walked out like a preacher at a tent revival. Tattoos, tears, and that unmistakable growl—he turned Parc Jean-Drapeau into a confessional booth, and the crowd sang every word like it was gospel. His set bled vulnerability, grit, and stadium-sized soul.
Eva Blue:
Alexa Kavoukis:
There’s no cool-kid posturing at LASSO, no ironic distance, no snide detachment. You’re either in the crowd belting out every lyric you know and slurring the ones you don't all covered in dust—or you’re not. And in 2025, Montreal showed up.
For two days, Parc Jean-Drapeau turned into a country music love letter, a cowboy-core fever dream where fringe flapped in the breeze, guitars wailed into the night, and (so we heard, unconfirmed) at least three people proposed during slow songs. Photographers were there to catch all the boots mid-kick, beers mid-splash, choruses mid-tear in between.
Here’s what photographer Alexa Kavoukis (@alexa.kavoukis) saw from the front row, the barricade, and somewhere in the middle of a beer-fuelled two-step circle pit.
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For readers who care about Montreal
Create a free account to read this story and access 3 articles per month, plus our weekly Bulletin.
There’s no cool-kid posturing at LASSO, no ironic distance, no snide detachment. You’re either in the crowd belting out every lyric you know and slurring the ones you don't all covered in dust—or you’re not. And in 2025, Montreal showed up.
For two days, Parc Jean-Drapeau turned into a country music love letter, a cowboy-core fever dream where fringe flapped in the breeze, guitars wailed into the night, and (so we heard, unconfirmed) at least three people proposed during slow songs. Photographers were there to catch all the boots mid-kick, beers mid-splash, choruses mid-tear in between.
Here’s what photographers Eva Blue (@evablue) and Alexa Kavoukis (@alexa.kavoukis) saw from the front row, the barricade, and somewhere in the middle of a beer-fuelled two-step circle pit.
Day 1
Friday, August 15: Rhinestone rodeo and a gritty mic drop
Friday kicked off with a bang and a bassline—yes, country has bass now. Shaboozey cracked open the afternoon with a genre-blurring set that had the front row waving their hats. Wyatt Flores and Willow Avalon delivered heartland angst with an acoustic guitar and a voice soaked in heartbreak.
Local favourites like Cindy Bédard and Chloé Leclerc brought heartfelt Québécois twang to the early lineup, while Charles Wesley Godwin hit the Valley Stage like a freight train of Appalachian soul.
But the biggest surprise was just how hard Montreal fell for Sheryl Crow. Decked in denim and calm confidence, she peeled off hit after hit like it was nothing. Soak Up the Sun, My Favorite Mistake, Everyday Is a Winding Road—she turned the island into a collective karaoke bar. And when the sky finally turned pink behind the skyline, she closed with If It Makes You Happy—a perfect, cathartic punctuation to day one.
Eva Blue:
Alexa Kavoukis:
Day 2
Saturday, August 16: Big Hats and Bigger Drops
Saturday brought the heat—literally and musically. Riley Green launched into sun-drenched anthems with enough Southern charm to convert even the sceptics. Tucker Wetmore showed up ready to break hearts and sell beer at the same time, all smooth vocals and stadium swagger. Dasha followed with a breakout set that was part pop, part twang, and all confidence—Austin hit especially hard, and the crowd knew every word.
VAVO turned the tent into a boot-stomping rave, while The Dead South got people moshing with mandolins.
Then came Jelly Roll.
He walked out like a preacher at a tent revival. Tattoos, tears, and that unmistakable growl—he turned Parc Jean-Drapeau into a confessional booth, and the crowd sang every word like it was gospel. His set bled vulnerability, grit, and stadium-sized soul.
Eva Blue:
Alexa Kavoukis:
There’s no cool-kid posturing at LASSO, no ironic distance, no snide detachment. You’re either in the crowd belting out every lyric you know and slurring the ones you don't all covered in dust—or you’re not. And in 2025, Montreal showed up.
For two days, Parc Jean-Drapeau turned into a country music love letter, a cowboy-core fever dream where fringe flapped in the breeze, guitars wailed into the night, and (so we heard, unconfirmed) at least three people proposed during slow songs. Photographers were there to catch all the boots mid-kick, beers mid-splash, choruses mid-tear in between.
Here’s what photographer Alexa Kavoukis (@alexa.kavoukis) saw from the front row, the barricade, and somewhere in the middle of a beer-fuelled two-step circle pit.
Free account required
For readers who care about Montreal
Create a free account to read this story and access 3 articles per month, plus our weekly Bulletin.
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![[PHOTOS] Boots, Dust, 'N' Bangers: LASSO 2025 Through the Lens](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fcdn.sanity.io%2Fimages%2F2edxk5v7%2Fproduction%2F2e7c0a154683fcb6bf20614920d41b4b94ca7513-6240x4160.jpg&w=2560&q=75)
![[PHOTOS] Boots, dust, 'n' bangers: LASSO 2025 through the lens](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fstorage.ghost.io%2Fc%2F00%2Fe5%2F00e5bf23-2b72-4a48-92bb-496245b79d2a%2Fcontent%2Fimages%2F2025%2F08%2FLasso_2025-38.JPG&w=256&q=75)
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