Grace Potter at Extra Innings.

The sun was dipping low over Tempe Beach Park on Saturday, March 1, 2025, casting a golden glow across the sprawling crowd at the Extra Innings Festival. The air buzzed with anticipation as the day’s lineup had already delivered a hefty dose of folk, country, and rock vibes. But as 5:30 PM rolled around, it was time for Grace Potter to take the stage, and let me tell you, folks, she didn’t just step up—she stormed in like a force of nature, ready to shake the desert dust off our boots and set our souls ablaze.

The crowd was a tapestry of cowboy hats, sunburned smiles, and eager eyes, all waiting for the Vermont-born powerhouse to unleash her magic. Grace strutted out, her presence electric, clad in a flowing, road-worn ensemble that screamed both rockstar and wanderer—fitting for a woman whose latest album, Mother Road, had been born from cross-country odysseys. Her band flanked her like a pack of seasoned travelers, instruments gleaming under the stage lights, and with a sly grin, she launched into her set.

First up was “White Rabbit,” a Jefferson Airplane cover that felt like a psychedelic baptism. Grace’s voice soared, husky and commanding, weaving through the trippy riffs like a desert wind. The crowd swayed, some closing their eyes as if transported to a Haight-Ashbury dreamscape, while others whooped, already hooked by her raw energy. It was a bold opener, a statement that this wasn’t going to be just another festival set—it was a journey.

She didn’t let us catch our breath before diving into “Mother Road,” the title track of her 2023 album. The song roared to life with a gritty, roadhouse swagger, her vocals painting pictures of endless highways and dusty motels. The band’s rhythm section thumped like a heartbeat, and Grace’s Hammond B-3 organ growled beneath her fingers, adding a layer of soul that hit you right in the chest. The crowd clapped along, caught up in the story of a woman untamed by miles or time.

Then, she jokingly asked the crowd if they could see up her skirt.

Next came “Something That I Want,” a fan favorite from her Tangled-era days. It was pure, unadulterated fun—a bouncy, flirtatious romp that had folks dancing in the sand. Grace leaned into the mic, her voice dripping with playful defiance, and the guitars chimed like a call to the wild. You could see the longtime fans lighting up, singing every word, while newcomers bobbed their heads, won over by the infectious groove.

The tempo shifted as she rolled into “The Lion the Beast the Beat,” a Nocturnals classic that felt like a thunderstorm breaking loose. The drums pounded, the guitars snarled, and Grace’s voice climbed to dizzying heights, fierce and untethered. It was a moment of pure rock ‘n’ roll catharsis, and the crowd roared back, fists in the air, as if they’d been waiting all day to let that energy out.

Then came “Paris (Ooh La La),” the anthem we all knew was coming—and oh, did she deliver. The opening riff alone sent a jolt through the park, and Grace owned it, strutting across the stage like a rock goddess. Her voice was a sultry growl one minute, a soaring cry the next, and the crowd sang along so loud you’d swear the cacti were harmonizing. It was the set’s peak, a communal explosion of sound and spirit that left us all grinning like fools.

She brought it down a notch with “Stars,” a haunting ballad that showcased her softer side. The desert twilight seemed to hush as her voice, tender yet powerful, floated over us. It was a moment of stillness amid the storm, and you could feel the crowd lean in, hanging on every note. A few lighters flickered—old-school style—and for those few minutes, it was just Grace, her piano, and a sea of captivated faces.

The finale was “Medicine,” another Nocturnals gem that turned the energy back up to eleven. The band leaned into the bluesy, swampy vibe, and Grace let loose, her voice a fiery sermon. She danced, she wailed, she played that organ like it was an extension of her soul. The crowd clapped and stomped, a tidal wave of sound crashing back at her, and as the last note rang out, she threw her head back with a triumphant laugh.

When the dust settled and Grace took her bow, the cheers were deafening. She’d given us an hour of pure, unfiltered Grace Potter—rock, blues, soul, and a dash of Americana, all wrapped in a performance that felt both intimate and larger-than-life. The setlist was a perfect blend of old and new, a nod to her roots and a testament to her evolution. As she waved goodbye and the stage lights dimmed, the crowd buzzed with that post-show glow, already recounting their favorite moments.

Here’s the setlist she burned into our memories that night:

1. White Rabbit (Jefferson Airplane cover)
2. Mother Road
3. Something That I Want
4. The Lion the Beast the Beat
5. Paris (Ooh La La)
6. Stars
7. Medicine

Grace Potter didn’t just play the Extra Innings Festival—she owned it. She took us on a wild ride down her musical highway, and by the end, we were all passengers, grateful for every mile. If you missed it, well, you missed a hell of a show. But knowing Grace, she’ll be back, tearing up stages and stealing hearts wherever the road takes her next.

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