Essay and Photos by Gabriel Hoff
Feb 28th, 2026
I’d like to begin this essay where every badly written movie begins, with a heaping load of context you really wish was sprinkled in throughout.
Drook is a band from Richmond, Virginia. They’re also an enigma. Consisting of Liza Grishaeva, Matthew Shultz, and Tyler Smith, Drook is a band that blends shoegaze, pop, rock, and EDM into songs that sound like a party, an existential crisis, or a little bit of both. They've been doing their thing in Richmond since 2019 and are a vital part of the scene. They were recently awarded the Newlin Music Prize for their 2024 album The Pure Joy of Jumping. TLDR: they're some of the DMV’s freshest.
I first saw Drook play back in December 2024, when they made their first stop in my hometown of Westminster, MD. It was my first show that I seriously photographed, and arguably the show that made me fall in love with it. From the first song they played, Drook piqued my interest. They sounded eerily similar to some artists I had been in love with for years. Some of the guitar tones reminded me of Brakence or Mk.gee. The electronics reminded me of Underscores or some of The 1975’s weirder stuff. Certain aspects I can't accurately describe reminded me of New Order. At the same time, Drook reminds me of nothing. They’re too unapologetically different to be subject to comparison.
Drook at ARIC on December 12th, 2024
(A funny thing to note about this show is that almost everyone in the crowd was sitting still the entire time. Due to the new-ness of the Westminster scene the audience didn't really know what moshing was at the time. Liza would later tell me that she found this awesome, and that due to the crowd’s stillness and vibe it was a memorable show for her and the band.)
The bottom line is that Drook's energy is palpable and undeniable. They play like they've rehearsed their balls off, they never stand still, and they're always shredding with the dial turned to 110%. Drook can get a crowd of musicians, booking agents, and timid concert goers moving, if you give them the chance. It blew my mind to see musicians so local playing music that sounded like it was completely their own. I have not - and will probably never - hear a song that sounds like a Drook song that isn't made by Drook, obviously.
I saw Drook play two more times in the following year. Once at the Pie Shop in D.C., where they made the floor shake and walls bend, and once again at a skatepark in my hometown of Westminster, Maryland.
Drook at Pie Shop D.C. on May 19th, 2025
When Drook played at my local skatepark they had already solidified themselves as my favorite band to photograph, and one of my favorites to see live. They’d also secured themselves a cult following in Westminster, with many of our locals anticipating Drook’s return. As always they brought the energy, and this time Westminster responded with very clear feedback. During their last two songs (If U Think It Could Be Love & Sprinter, if you were curious) the crowd of about 200 split into two groups. A mosh pit of about 15, and some very engaged onlookers. I don’t think I’ll ever forget seeing the faces of friends, acquaintances, and strangers united in one pit. The cherry on top was Liza coming out into the crowd and performing next to the pit. This resulted in one of my favorite photos I've taken to this day.
Drook at Westminster Skate Park on June 20th, 2025
I think this moment, and show in particular, was very formative for how I look at concerts. Artists change, audiences grow, and the intersection between an artist and community doesn't come together often. But when they meet it's beautiful, and it can transform spaces and communities beyond what you can see with your eyes. Drook lives vicariously with their audience, and has undeniably set up shop at these intersections.
Documenting these types of acts and performances are why I take photos, and why I've started writing about concerts in general. I'm like a storm chaser. I'm following and documenting the adrenaline and high that is found at these intersections.
I often find myself thinking about how strange music is as a concept. How something as dumb as three people bashing objects together can bring us closer, make us cry, make us dance, and even make us throw elbows at someone we just met an hour ago.