Tennis Says Goodbye, Denver Holds On
September 1, 2025Photography: Ryan Lee Dorman
As I waited at will call at Mission Ballroom for my press pass, what struck me most was how many people were there to claim guest-list tickets. It felt like Tennis had invited half the city — friends, family, every familiar face from their Denver life. Even my photographer, Ryan, who’s seen Tennis countless times, was glowing. This was his first time with a photo pass, and the chance to get up close with the band lit him up. Watching him lean in and frame his shots reminded me how special this night was — not just for me, not just for the crowd, but for anyone who had followed Tennis from the beginning.
Inside, the sense of reunion only deepened. There was no flashy intro — just Alaina and Patrick walking onstage, casual as ever, a black screen behind them, opening with “I Can Only Describe You” from their most recent album. A dreamy song about recalling someone you love “only when you are exacting,” it set the night’s tone: tender and fleeting.
The set moved between classics and newer tracks, a reminder that Tennis’s 15-year longevity has always been about craft. When Alaina finally addressed the Denver crowd, she had to mention the farewell tour. The news was met with playful boos — not anger, but reluctance. She steadied the room, calling this tour “a very intentional goodbye.” And when the teasing continued, she silenced the crowd with one line: “Isn’t impermanence the fragrance of our days?” With that, Tennis slid into “Runner,” soothing the moment the way you’d calm a crying baby: by singing their favorite lullaby.
Throughout the night, the intimacy between Alaina and Patrick showed in small gestures. When Patrick crouched to fix her amp plug, Alaina grinned: “That’s my husband! And my guitar tech.” His flashy guitars could have stolen the spotlight, but he never overshadowed her. Their quick smiles and casual glances mid-song radiated trust — a closeness that made the audience feel secure too.
The encore centered on “Pollen,” stretched into an extended outro that turned the track into something cinematic. When Alaina sang about a lover’s hand on your leg and your own hand reaching out the window, the images felt alive — like you could actually feel the wind and the sinking sun. Then came the line about pollen fucking her up: funny, blunt, a reminder that romance is always tangled with reality. Live, the song shimmered between intimacy and absurdity, sweetness and sting, leaving the room suspended in its glow.
This farewell felt less like a concert and more like the last dance at prom. Groups drifted apart and circled back together, pulled again and again into the haze of Tennis’s sound. Before the final song, “Late Night,” Alaina shared that she had struggled with dysphonia for the past two years, relearning how to speak and sing just for this tour. She said she only felt comfortable admitting it to such an intimate, hometown crowd. Then she sang without missing a note — not just with a recovered voice, but with the intentionality of someone who knows what it means to lose something and fight to get it back. By the end, the fans who playfully resisted the idea of goodbye seemed to soften. Intentional or not, farewells always ache, and this one was no different. But under the shimmer of Tennis’s final songs, it felt like both sides — band and audience — found a way to accept it. An intentional goodbye, yes, but one wrapped in love, memory, and the kind of dream you don’t want to wake from.
