For the first time in its twelve-year history, Shaky Knees Festival set up camp in Atlanta’s Piedmont Park, and the shift was felt the moment gates opened. Gone were the bottlenecked pathways of Central Park; in their place, wide green lawns, shady oaks, and city-skyline views framed the festival’s rebirth. By the close of Day One, it was clear: Shaky Knees had not only survived the move, it had claimed a new home.
The honor of christening Piedmont went to Inhaler on the Allianz-presented Piedmont Stage. Their shimmering indie rock carried across the park, luring in early arrivals with anthemic choruses and a breezy confidence. As the sound drifted past the BeltLine and deeper into the city, you could sense the anticipation for what the rest of the day would bring.
Over on the Peachtree Stage, the first major sing-along of the day belonged to Sublime. With Jakob Nowell carrying the torch of his father Bradley, the band resurrected the sun-drenched SoCal vibes that defined an era. “Santeria” and “What I Got” rang out as thousands sang every word, transforming Piedmont’s open field into a sea of nostalgia. It was less a set and more a shared memory, alive again in the Georgia heat.
The energy snapped into chaos as Idles stormed the Piedmont Stage. Known for their explosive punk fury, the band whipped the crowd into a frenzy with guttural vocals, jagged riffs, and mosh pits that seemed to multiply by the minute. If Sublime was about memory and melody, Idles reminded everyone that Shaky Knees also thrives on confrontation and catharsis.
Meanwhile on Ponce de Leon, Spoon delivered a masterclass in indie rock cool. Britt Daniel’s vocals cut clean against sharp riffs and taut rhythms, their performance both effortless and meticulous. In a lineup spanning nostalgia and new energy, Spoon provided the perfect balance — seasoned veterans still pushing forward without missing a beat.
Between stage-hops, Joey Valence & Brae turned their slot into a high-octane dance riot. Their fusion of hip-hop, punk, and breakbeat energy demanded movement, and the crowd delivered, fists in the air and feet off the ground. It was one of those surprise festival moments where discovery feels like destiny — their name might have been lower on the poster, but their presence loomed large by day’s end.
Back on Peachtree, Lenny Kravitz reminded everyone what a rock star looks like. Sunglasses on, guitar slung low, he strutted through decades of hits with polish and power. The sing-alongs came easy, the swagger came easier, and Kravitz showed why his place on the bill was as much about showmanship as sound.
Nightfall softened the festival’s pace as The Marias washed the Piedmont Stage in pastel-hued dream pop. Their hypnotic set felt like a cinematic interlude — a chance to sway, breathe, and sink into lush harmonies before the evening’s final storm. Against the city skyline, their sound was a postcard of modern Atlanta: vibrant, stylish, and forward-looking.
At the same hour, Pixies thundered through Ponce de Leon, bridging generations of alt-rock devotees with snarling distortion and iconic anthems. “Where Is My Mind?” hung in the humid air like a mantra, uniting the crowd in a rare moment of reverent stillness.
But the night belonged to Deftones, who closed out the Peachtree Stage with sheer force. Their set swerved between brooding atmosphere and full-throttle aggression, with “Change (In the House of Flies)” casting a spell before “My Own Summer (Shove It)” detonated like a bomb. Piedmont Park’s sprawl amplified their sound, guitars roaring across the lawns and drums shaking the ground beneath thousands of stomping feet.
It was catharsis in its purest form — the kind of set that leaves a crowd drained, hoarse, and hungry for more.
Yes, there were growing pains. Walks between stages stretched longer than some expected, and sound bleed occasionally blurred the edges. But Piedmont’s trade-offs — space to breathe, iconic sightlines, and a sense of scale — outweighed the hassles.
From Inhaler’s bright opening chords to Deftones’ seismic finale, Day One proved Shaky Knees isn’t just surviving its move — it’s thriving in it. Atlanta’s beloved festival has found its new rhythm, and the beat is only getting louder.
