MidFlorida Credit Union Amphitheatre, at its base, is just concrete and steel—a blank canvas awaiting color, sound, and spirit—waiting silently for life to pour into it. Last night, that life arrived in waves, vigorously reshaping the empty rows and vacant spaces, into something vibrant and deeply communal. Under the cooling and humid dusk, fans decked out in patchwork bandanas, Rasta flags, and tie-dye shirts filled the air with laughter and the unmistakable smell of herbal incense. Gen Z heads in bucket hats, danced alongside boomers wearing vintage Bob Marley tees, all united by reggae’s steady heartbeat and a promise of something greater than music alone. This was less a concert, and more a spiritual revival.
Around 9 p.m., as night settled comfortably over Tampa, a charming and unexpected opening act trotted onto the stage: Cocoa, Stick Figure’s beloved Australian Shepherd/ Golden Retriever mix and official tour mascot. Before the band had even appeared, fans had already showered the stage with nearly a dozen plush dog toys, turning the platform into a playful tribute. Cocoa, looking like a real-life teddy bear under the lights, happily investigated each offering as the crowd erupted in laughter and cheers. What could’ve felt like a simple gimmick became a genuinely delightful moment: warm, spontaneous, and endearing.
Cocoa aside, anticipation built steadily, each minute layering excitement until Stick Figure finally stepped into the glow. Their massive two-hour set hit like a tide: swelling, crashing, receding, then returning with more force. Lasers licked the stage and the crowd, while a three-tiered, LED panel stage pulsed behind the band, shifting between dreamy visuals, subtle animations, and full-on kaleidoscopic blasts. The dual drum setup—traditional percussion paired with bongos and other world instruments—kept the heartbeat going, while the talkbox effects on keys laced the whole thing in that surreal, almost digital haze that’s become part of their sonic identity…