An uninhibited energy permeated the air at The Arts at the Armory Monday night as Feeble Little Horse graced the Somerville venue with its unique, raw sound. 

In front of a backdrop featuring a pixelated horse that can only be described as feeble, bandmates Lydia Slocum, Sebastian Kinsler, Jake Kelley, and Rob Potesta took the stage.

FLH has amassed a cult-like following in the past few years, occupying a unique position in the modern rock scene. Combining a hardcore sound with ‘90s shoegaze and alt-indie elements, their live performance provides a haven for those who crave the all-encompassing feeling of a classic mosh concert. The crowd consisted of around 150 young people, most of whom were sporting baggy clothes, long hair, and mustaches.

The band, composed of Slocum on lead vocals and bass, Kinsler on vocals and guitar, Kelley on drums, and Potesta on guitar, are Pittsburgh natives who say they create music not as work, but as a hobby. This, according to the band, allows them to create art that they truly believe in without falling victim to the commercialization of the modern music industry. On Monday night, this passion was lucid. 

For their first three songs, Slocum’s vocals were inaudible, and her bass audio was nonexistent. After audience members shouted that they couldn’t hear her, a staff member came onstage to remedy the issue. 

In a moment that could have called for boos and tomatoes, instead, a community was bonded. 

An audience member shouted out, “We want whatever you got, man! We’re supportive, we’re ready, we’re excited!”

One might think that such a sentiment could only come from an audience plant of some sort, but this was the authentic feeling that emanated throughout the venue all night.

In the ten minutes that followed, Kinsler and Kelley improvised aural entertainment for the hungry audience. Completely unfazed by the possibility of an imperfect show, the bandmates clearly enjoyed the period of spontaneous riffing. Although the first two tracks, “Freak” and “Sweet,” were two that my fellow concert goers and I were looking forward to, to see a band pivot on the fly is impressive. 

“Everyone just try to remember how excited you were ten minutes ago,” Kinsler joked, although the crowd was still so enthralled that they needed no reminder. 

After the technical difficulties were resolved, they moved into “Chores,” a noisy alt-rocker from their 2021 debut album “Hayday” that takes a sarcastic look at a bad relationship.

The audience was thrilled to be able to hear Slocum clearly, and they joined her in song, shouting “You need to do your chores / You need to clean the floors.”

Throughout the show, the four bandmates moved together. It was as if Slocum and Kelley were connected by a string that was tied to the thread linking Kinsler and Potesta. At one point, Potesta broke a guitar string, and immediately, Kinsler was there, handing him another guitar. 

This connection made their performance feel effortless. If not for the early disruption, it may not have even registered as remarkable. Indeed, FLH is remarkable; they are not “the feeble little horses,” they are one band. A unit. They are one feeble little horse.

At one point, Kinsler asked the audience if any of them were Harvard students. He was met with boos. Pivoting, he asked if anyone in the crowd went to BU, and was met with timid cheers. “Who here has no prospects at all?” he then asked, receiving the most raucous applause of the night. 

The highlight of the show was halfway through, when they played “Paces.” The track is a more indie-folk take on the band’s established rock sound. As Slocum sang the vulnerable chorus, “I’m hooked on my loop / Paces in 22s / I’ve made up a game / Bets if I win or lose,” the audience couldn’t help but dance along happily to the bouncy tempo and catchy guitar riffs.

As the show neared its inevitable end, the crowd cleared a large circle in the middle of the floor, preparing for their predestination: a mosh pit. When the next song, a cover of Find My Friends’ 2025 single “Call,” began, fans began to enter the pit, running around and around. As the beat dropped, they all started jumping up and down, collapsing in on themselves as if there was nothing else in the world that concerned them at all.

Before the final song, Slocum and Kinsler said in a monotone unison: “We have to play this song last, or something very bad will happen.”

The song, “Down,” from their 2021 EP “Modern Tourism,” was written and recorded before Slocum joined the band. Despite this, it all came together in that moment as they set off on the brash shoegazey tune.

“My body’s useless, can’t you cut me loose? / Now I’m besides myself and I can’t find you / You’re fucking nothing, I can see right through,” they concluded, as each member of the band very casually smashed their respective instruments into the stage. It’s unclear to me if this is the regular aftermath of a FLH show, but what I am sure about is that it was gripping. As soon as the audience knew what they were doing, they were gone, as if a storm had swept across the stage and swallowed them up.

Symbols crashed down, guitars banged into the ground, the stage was wrecked—and the audience couldn’t get enough.