Here I am again at Kemba Live!, the outdoor space that always feels like a second home—if home were a place where sound hits your bones and the air hums with anticipation. Tonight’s different though. It’s late in the season, the final whispers of summer clinging to the breeze, but I’ll take it. This show’s been on ice for far too long. Rainbow Kitten Surprise is back in Columbus, Ohio, for the first time in years. A tour that had been announced post-COVID, only to be canceled not once but twice, left us all wondering if we’d ever see them again. But here we are, finally. You wouldn’t know the crowd was ever frustrated; everyone was just damn happy to have them back.
For me, there was more to this night than just another concert. It was the first time seeing vocalist Ela Melo perform since her transition, and I knew the fanbase—fiercely loyal and notoriously loving—was here to celebrate that. I wondered if that newfound freedom, living as her truest self, would amplify the performance. Then there was the departure of longtime member Charlie Holt, which had left fans shaken after a vague explanation from the band. Would the band’s chemistry hold up without him? Would the new material from Love Hate Music Box, an album that marked a bold departure from their earlier sound – while still prominently featuring Holt – hit the same way live? I had a camera ready for answers.
Rainbow Kitten Surprise: A Celebration of Change
Then, it happened. The stage lights bloomed, casting shadows of the band across the venue. For a split second, time froze. And then, with a flash of light and the first echoing line, “I want you, but hun we’ve been through enough,” Ela’s voice cut through the air like a blade. That was it—Rainbow Kitten Surprise had arrived, and Columbus was theirs for the night.
Let me get this out of the way: the changes within the band haven’t dulled their live performance one bit. If anything, they’ve sharpened it. The energy was palpable, as it always has been. Ela danced across the stage like a woman unchained, moving with the same exuberance as before, but there was a new lightness to her now—something fierce and free. Something that felt a little more real. The rest of the band played like they hadn’t missed a beat since Charlie’s departure.
Sure, Love Hate Music Box isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. It’s eclectic, a bit of a departure from the RKS we’ve known. But change isn’t a bad thing. In fact, it’s inevitable. Fans often forget that while we grow up with our favorite musicians, they’re growing too. And sometimes that growth takes them in new directions. It was obvious that every member of the band had embraced this change, and they weren’t asking for permission to be anything but who they are now. The live show reflected that evolution—more mature, more boisterous, but still the same explosive joy at its core.
For me, I’m on board with the new album. It’s authentic, messy in all the right ways, a sonic manifestation of the transformations these people have gone through. From the infectious opener “LOL” to the epic finale “It’s Called: Freefall,” they held the audience in their grip for 23 songs, encore included. Not a single moment felt wasted.
The crowd, hungry for every note, belted out the lyrics like a congregation, and Ela, fully in her element, danced like no one was watching—except everyone was, and they loved every second of it. And if her dancing is any indication – she loves it too.
This concert wasn’t just a concert. It was a resurrection, a celebration of survival, growth, and the freedom to be who you are—loudly and without apology. Rainbow Kitten Surprise took their time to get here, and after everything—the delays, the cancellations, the personal transformations—it was worth every minute.
Kemba Live! became a temple, and Ela its high priestess, guiding the faithful through a liturgy of songs that have helped many weather the dark times.
There’s something magical about seeing a band come back from the brink, stronger and more defiant than ever. Not every band could pull off a set like that after all they’ve been through, but Rainbow Kitten Surprise did. And as I packed up my gear and walked away from the stage, I knew this was a night I wouldn’t forget. The crowd was electric, the music was alive, and the message was clear: RKS is back, and they’re here to stay.
Leave a Reply