Miles Kane Brings Sunlight to Franklin Music Hall, Philadelphia
- Emma Zoe Polyak
- May 12
- 2 min read
It was still a quarter to eight when the lights dimmed and Miles Kane took the stage at Franklin Music Hall. Even though the show wasn’t supposed to start for another 15 minutes, the venue was quickly filling up, and Kane’s opening set made it worthwhile for everyone to get there early.
Miles Kane’s music has woven its way in and out of my life over the past ten years. Admittedly, I was first introduced to him as one half of The Last Shadow Puppets, but quickly discovered his solo discography, which more than holds its own.
On stage he was impossible to ignore, pacing from one side of the stage to the other, dancing between riffs, and performing with a kind of swagger that felt almost theatrical.
Sunlight In The Shadows is his sixth album, but Kane played songs from across his discography, playing fan favorites like “Rearrange” from his first album Colour Of The Trap and “Don’t Forget Who You Are” from the album of the same name.
Sunlight In The Shadows is Kane at his best, and perhaps even most confident. The songs fluctuate in intensity – the album starts off rockin’ with “Love Is Cruel,” before settling into another single, “Electric Flower.” While only a couple of songs made it to his opening set, a personal favorite was “Walk On The Ocean,” the closing song from the LP. “Let this one hypnotize you,” Kane said while introducing the more subdued, groovier song. It was a reminder that for all his riffs and guitar flair, there’s more to his music.
By the time Kane launched into the final stretch of his set, it was clear why he was such a natural fit for The Black Keys. Sunlight In The Shadows (co-written and produced by Dan Auerbach) felt right at home in the room, bridging Kane’s Brit-rock sensibilities with the gritty, riff-heavy sound that would soon follow.
There’s always been something intriguing about Miles Kane’s relationship with American audiences. In the U.K., his sharp outfits, swagger, and unmistakable stage presence have made him a classic rock-and-roll act. Here in the US, though, he still feels like one of modern rock’s best-kept secrets – I’ve often been the one to introduce him to my friends. He’s easily recognized by devoted fans, but too often overlooked outside of that circle.
But perhaps that’s part of Kane’s appeal. There was no sense that he was holding anything back for a headline slot or saving his best moments for a crowd that had bought tickets just to see him. From the moment he stepped onstage, he performed as if the room already belonged to him, winning over the crowd.
Kane’s set felt refreshingly loose and human. Every grin that he flashed toward the crowd suggested that he was having just as much fun as we were. For forty-or-so minutes, Franklin Music Hall didn’t feel like a venue waiting for the headliners to start. It felt like Miles Kane’s room.
