The Mural Project turned Tacoma’s Halloween weekend into a costumed celebration of loud guitars, local community and a beloved venue finding fresh life.

By Lola Hart — Seattle Sound Scene

By the time The Mural Project took the stage at Tacoma’s New Frontier Lounge on October 30, the distinction between concert and costume party had already disappeared.

The room was packed with monsters, devils, ghouls and other creatures that become socially acceptable only during the final days of October. Nearly the entire audience had dressed for the occasion. Faces were painted, identities were temporarily abandoned and the usual collection of black T-shirts had been invaded by capes, masks, horns and Halloween makeup.

Behind the bar, New Frontier co-owner Ryan Carr spent the night dressed as the Devil, which seemed appropriate for someone tasked with keeping a room full of costumed Tacoma music fans properly supplied. His partner, Amber Pulley, moved through the night as a ghoul.

Then The Mural Project arrived as a roaming party of Dungeons & Dragons goblins.

Not generic, last-minute Halloween goblins, either. These looked like characters who had wandered away from a particularly unruly tabletop campaign, discovered distortion pedals and decided that forming a rock band offered better odds than pillaging a medieval village.

It was funny, committed and completely suited to the occasion.

More importantly, the costumes never became the most memorable part of the set.

The Mural Project remains one of those Tacoma bands that makes immediate sense inside a Tacoma room. Its music carries the city’s fondness for loud guitars and songs that are rough around the edges without being careless. There is muscle in the band’s sound, but also personality, melody and the loose camaraderie of four musicians who clearly enjoy being onstage together.

That chemistry was especially visible on Halloween.

Drummer Drew Windsor—also contributing vocals from behind the kit—gave the set its weight and momentum. Playing drums in full goblin regalia might not be covered in most music-school curriculums, but Windsor attacked the songs as if the costume were simply another piece of stage equipment.

His playing had force without losing feel. He pushed the band through sharp changes, filled the spaces between the guitars and kept everything moving with the kind of authority that allows the musicians in front of the kit to take chances.

Guitarists Spenser Ready and David Chouinard built the band’s abrasive melodic center. With both musicians also handling vocals, The Mural Project never felt trapped inside a single voice or perspective. Their guitars overlapped, collided and occasionally seemed to argue with one another before locking back together.

Ready brought an animated edge to the performance, leaning into riffs with the enthusiasm of someone who had been waiting all week to turn an amplifier up in front of people. Chouinard supplied an equally important counterweight, helping the songs retain their structure even when the performance threatened to tumble joyfully off its tracks.

Bassist Cullen Daniels held the lower end together with a steadiness that never felt static. As the newest member of the lineup, Daniels has settled naturally into the band’s chemistry. His bass gave the guitars something solid to push against, often providing the connective tissue between Windsor’s drums and the noise unfolding at the front of the stage.

Together, the four musicians sounded less like people wearing costumes and more like actual goblins who had discovered an electrical outlet.

“The Sliver” opened the set and immediately established its personality. The song hit with enough urgency to pull the room toward the stage, costumes and all. Rather than spending the first few minutes easing into the performance, The Mural Project arrived already switched on.

“The Pavement” kept that momentum moving before “Banana Truck” delivered the kind of title that feels completely natural when performed by four Dungeons & Dragons creatures in a Tacoma dive bar.

That was part of the evening’s charm. Nothing had to be overly explained. The crowd understood the assignment. The band understood the crowd, and the entire room seemed willing to follow wherever the set went next.

“Fine” tightened the focus, allowing the vocals and guitars to carry a little more emotional weight beneath the volume. The Mural Project’s songs work because the band does not treat loudness as a substitute for character. The riffs hit hard, but there are recognizable human edges underneath them—frustration, humor, nervous energy and the peculiar sense of survival that runs through so much great Tacoma music.

Then came “Beff Jezos,” a title that earned its laughter before the first note had even fully landed.

There is a refreshing lack of pretension in a band willing to name a song “Beff Jezos” and then play it with absolute conviction. The joke may open the door, but the performance still has to carry the song through it. The Mural Project did exactly that, attacking it with the same intensity given to every other number in the set.

“Cadillac” followed with a swagger that suited its name, giving Daniels and Windsor room to drive the song while the guitars scraped and sparked above them.

“Albatross” brought a slightly heavier shadow over the performance. Even within a Halloween set built around costumes and communal fun, The Mural Project remained capable of changing the temperature in the room. The song felt broader and more deliberate, letting its weight accumulate instead of immediately throwing everything at the audience.

By the time the band reached “The Pedal,” the New Frontier had become exactly what a neighborhood music venue should be: warm, loud, a little strange and filled with people who genuinely wanted to be there.

The setting mattered.

The New Frontier Lounge has occupied a distinctive place in Tacoma’s music community for years. It has never needed to become polished beyond recognition. The room’s appeal comes partly from its history, its mismatched character and the feeling that live music naturally belongs within its walls.

Since taking ownership earlier this year, Ryan Carr and Amber Pulley have managed the difficult trick of improving the venue without sanding away the qualities that made people love it.

The food has taken a noticeable step forward. The menu feels more considered, and what comes out of the kitchen now gives people a reason to arrive early rather than simply searching for something to eat before the first band begins.

The sound has also improved considerably.

The sound engineer working the Halloween show—whose name unfortunately escaped us—deserves recognition. Small rooms can be unforgiving, especially when multiple loud guitars, vocals and drums begin competing for the same space. Yet The Mural Project’s set remained forceful without dissolving into shapeless volume. The vocals stayed present, the rhythm section retained its punch and each guitar occupied its own place in the mix.

Good live sound is often noticed only when it goes wrong. On this night, it went right.

Carr and Pulley also remained visible and involved throughout the evening. There was no sense of absentee ownership or of a venue operating entirely on autopilot. Ryan spent the night tending bar in devil horns while Amber, dressed as a ghoul, helped keep the evening moving. Their presence made the New Frontier feel less like a business hosting a show and more like a gathering place being cared for by people who understand what it means to the community.

That spirit extended into the audience.

Halloween concerts can sometimes feel like ordinary shows with a few costumes scattered through the room. This was different. Nearly everyone participated. The crowd became part of the production, turning the floor into a moving collage of characters who might never otherwise appear in the same fictional universe.

The effect was both ridiculous and strangely sincere.

For a few hours, people were allowed to become something else. The band could be goblins. The person pouring drinks could be the Devil. The owners, musicians, photographers and audience could all step outside their usual roles and meet inside the shared language of a loud local show.

That is one of the things small venues provide that larger rooms often cannot.

At the New Frontier, there is little separation between the people making the music and the people receiving it. The band can see individual faces. The audience can feel the movement of air from the amplifiers. A joke shouted from the floor can become part of the performance, and the person standing beside you may be playing on that same stage the following weekend.

These rooms are where local music becomes a community instead of merely a product.

The Mural Project understood that. Its Halloween performance was not treated like an audition for some imaginary larger stage. The band played for the room it had, for the people wearing costumes in front of it and for the joy of making something loud together on a Friday night in Tacoma.

That made the set feel bigger than its eight songs.

It was a reminder that a memorable concert does not require an enormous production, a barricade or a nationally touring headliner. Sometimes it requires four goblins, a responsive crowd, a good sound engineer and a neighborhood venue whose new owners are putting genuine care into its future.

The New Frontier Lounge feels alive.

Its history is still visible in the walls, the stage and the peculiar collection of objects that give the room its personality. But under Carr and Pulley, it also feels as though the next chapter has begun—one with stronger food, better sound and a renewed commitment to the musicians and audiences that keep Tacoma’s scene moving.

On October 30, that future happened to be dressed as a dungeon.

The Devil was behind the bar. A ghoul was watching over the room. Goblins controlled the stage.

And for one loud, strange and thoroughly Tacoma evening, the New Frontier belonged to all of them.

Photos by Eric Shull — Seattle Sound Scene

🎸 The Mural Project — The New Frontier Lounge
Tacoma, Washington • October 30, 2026

Setlist

The Sliver

The Pavement

Banana Truck

Fine

Beff Jezos

Cadillac

Albatross

The Pedal