Two Decades of Chroma: Cartel Finds New Life in Old Colors

There’s something electric about time-capsule shows. For fans of early-2000s pop-punk / alt-rock, the chance to relive the exact moments that soundtracked high school, college, late nights and first loves is irresistible. On their 20th anniversary tour for Chroma, Cartel did more than dip into nostalgia — they resurrected that era with intention, polish, and energy that proved this isn’t just a tribute tour. It’s a demonstration: this music still means something, and the band still has something to say.

Fans showed up early, many wearing old band tees, Vans skate shoes, reliving their teenage concert era. The atmosphere was electric before Cartel even hit the stage. There’s anticipation, nostalgia, and also respect — this was not just a trip down memory lane, but a full-on celebration of what the album Chroma represented when it came out, and what it still represents today.

Macseal got things going with danceable grooves and HUNNY then ramped up the crowd for what would be a full cinemascope lighting and performance with Cartel. These aren’t throwaway openers — they brought real energy, and matched well in style (indie-leaning, emotionally charged) that set up Cartel’s headline.

When Cartel finally took the stage, the crowd erupted — a wall of cheers that almost drowned out the first chords of “Let’s Go.” It was clear from the first few seconds that this wouldn’t be a nostalgia cash-in. The band played with precision, confidence, and the kind of energy that made Chroma such a defining album two decades ago. Will Pugh’s voice, still remarkably intact, cut cleanly through the mix — bright, earnest, and emotive. Each note of the soaring choruses landed as if no time had passed, and he handled the high, dynamic parts with ease, never sounding winded or strained.

Visually, the band leaned into the album’s title in clever ways. Lighting cues were carefully designed to mirror the emotion of each track: deep blues and violets during “Minstrel’s Prayer,” searing golds and reds for “If I Fail.” When the band reached the midpoint of the set, the lights shifted into a bright, color-washed haze that filled the venue — a moment that seemed to bring the word Chroma to life. The stage setup wasn’t overblown or theatrical; it was tasteful and immersive, adding atmosphere without distracting from the performance itself.

There’s a particular electricity in the air when a band plays an album straight through, especially one as beloved as Chroma. The pacing worked beautifully — the crowd moved with the band from euphoric sing-alongs to introspective quiet. Every lyric, every drum fill was met with recognition and enthusiasm. When Pugh paused briefly before “Save Us,” the audience finished the first line before he even touched the mic, the collective voice of a generation echoing through the venue.

Hearing Chroma in its entirety was both exhilarating and strangely emotional. Songs that once blared through car stereos and iPod earbuds suddenly felt monumental in a live setting. “Honestly” — arguably the emotional centerpiece of the album — became a communal catharsis, with the crowd singing every word back so loudly that Pugh stepped away from the mic for an entire chorus, smiling as the audience carried the song.

The encore turned that shared nostalgia into something interactive. Each night, Cartel invites fans to vote on which deep cut they’ll play — a small but effective gesture that keeps the show feeling personal. The Dallas vote landed on “I Will Hide Myself Away”, which gave the night a final surge of connection, a reminder that this wasn’t just a re-creation of the past but a living celebration of it.

What made the night truly special, though, was the balance between memory and momentum. Chroma might have been born in 2005, but Cartel’s 2025 performance of it doesn’t feel dated — it feels timeless. The band’s chemistry, the emotion in the room, and the sense that these songs still matter all combine into something rare: a reunion show that feels like a rebirth.