On a sweltering Friday evening in Dallas’ Design District, the late‑summer heat wasn’t just part of the atmosphere — it was our arch‑nemesis. The Blofeld to every outdoor concert goer in Texas. My wife and I headed to AM/FM an outdoor venue for the Save Ferris concert. The tour celebrating the upcoming 30th anniversary of It Means Everything. The entire album played front to back in the kind of heat that makes you wonder how the heck people lived in Dallas before air conditioning. Or why any of us still pretend outdoor concerts in August are a good idea. Earlier this summer we saw my all‑time favorite ska band, The English Beat. They were part of the Howard Jones tour along with Wang Chung and Modern English. Getting Save Ferris in the same season felt like a pretty great year for ska concerts.
We had a table in the front on the left side of the stage, close enough to catch every horn blast and every bit of Monique Powell’s crowd‑working charisma. The venue stuck with the theme by offering Save Ferris–inspired cocktails, including one called Superspy. A charming touch, though they still missed an obvious opportunity by not offering a non‑alcoholic drink called Under 21. That one practically writes itself.
A few minutes before the band took the stage, the album cover of It Means Everything was projected on the screen at the back of the stage. A simple, effective reminder of what the night was about to become. Around 8:30pm, as full darkness had settled over the Design District the band walked on stage. The horn section hit the opening notes of The World Is New, almost like they were heralding in the evening. A perfect way to start this album — the horns are such a defining part of these songs, often acting as a counterpoint to Monique’s vocals.
Monique Powell followed a moment later, twirling her microphone and immediately taking command of the stage. She greeted the crowd and said, “For the first time in history we are playing this album from front to back,” and with that, the night officially snapped into place. Suddenly 1997 didn’t feel so far away. She also mentioned that this was the first time the album had been released on vinyl.
Running Through It Means Everything
If The World Is New cracked open the time capsule, the rest of the album poured out with Monique driving the night’s energy with the kind of confidence that comes from decades of fronting a band. She’s an energetic dynamo — dancing, spinning, twirling her microphone, leaning into the audience, working every inch of the stage — all while wearing heels that would send most people straight to the ER. She looked fantastic, too. At one point, I found myself wondering how many wigs she takes on tour, because by the end of the night she’d earned hazard pay for keeping a full wig intact in late‑August Texas.
Monique’s voice was in great form too — strong, expressive, and unmistakably hers. Earlier this summer we’d seen Alison Moyet as part of the Human League tour. While their voices are quite different they share a lot in common, a strong voice and an assured stage presence.
While her vocals set the tone, the band behind her filled in the rest. The horn section nailed the bright, brassy punch that defines the record. The guitarist pulled double duty, adding backing vocals throughout and trading vocals with Monique on songs like Superspy and Little Differences. The bass player wearing checkerboard Vans (my man!) bounced around the stage like he had springs in those Vans.
The crowd was a mix of longtime fans, ska lifers, and people who clearly hadn’t been to a show since the Clinton administration.
Goodbye was a standout in the middle of the set — a song that always felt like Save Ferris sneaking a 1930s jazz number into a ska album. It opens with cymbals and trumpets blaring, and Monique leans into the torch‑song persona. Vamping it up with sultry moves and hip shakes before the track shifts gears into an uptempo breakup song. I think this was the song where she sat on the front of the stage, a very intimate moment.
The Crowd‑Pleaser That Showed Up Early
Before launching into Come On Eileen, Monique admitted she’d been nervous about playing the band’s biggest hit so early in the set. She joked that people might hear it, check the mental box, and head home. But the Dallas crowd didn’t budge. Instead, the song triggered one of the most animated moments of the night. Monique led an arm‑waving frenzy that rippled across the crowd and morphed into a full‑throated singalong. The Dallas Save Ferris concert crowd participated like it was their civic duty.
SPAM — Late‑Set Chaos, EGOT, Pillowy Goodness, and the Apocalypse Pantry
Later in the set came SPAM, introduced with the kind of hyperbole only Monique can deliver. She announced — with full dramatic flair — that the song had won the EGOT. Listing off each award like she was reading envelopes at an award ceremony. She said that when she can’t sleep at night, she thinks about SPAM’s “meaty, pink, pillowy goodness,” and added that people still gift her cans of it — so when the apocalypse comes, she’ll be set.
It was ridiculous, hilarious, and exactly the kind of off‑the‑rails banter that makes a Save Ferris concert a treat.
The Obligatory “10 Things I Hate About You” Moment
Before closing the night with I Know, Monique told a story about the band being asked to appear in 10 Things I Hate About You. They flew up to Seattle to film the prom scene where they performed the song. I’ve never actually seen the movie — apparently I’m the only Gen-X’er who hasn’t. But the crowd reacted like she’d just mentioned a beloved national landmark. It was a cool bit of history, and it gave the encore a nice narrative bow.
The World Isn’t New, but the Songs Still Work
By the time the last notes of I Know drifted out over the AM/FM courtyard, the stage lights pierced the dark sky and were reminiscent of this band that burned bright 30 years ago. The heat was still hanging around, but it had mellowed into something manageable — more henchman than Bond villain.
Hearing It Means Everything played straight through live felt like seeing an old friend after a long time — familiar right away, and bringing back fun memories. When the album came out in ’97, we’d recently bought our first house. That CD became part of the soundtrack of settling into real adulthood: painting rooms, mowing yards, and figuring out mortgages. I was so happy to see the album played live. It was also wonderful to see what a great performance Monique and Save Ferris delivered.
I’ve kept up with Save Ferris over the years, too. I did my part in their 2017 comeback by pre‑ordering a Monique‑signed copy of Checkered Past. It’s quite excellent — a reminder that even their later‑era material still carries that unmistakable energy. If you haven’t checked out those songs before, I recommend doing so.
Monique Powell — still a force, still hilarious, still somehow dancing in heels in late‑August Texas — brought those same songs back to life with a new band that did them justice. Save Ferris still delivers the same punch it did in the late ’90s. The world isn’t new anymore, but the songs have probably aged better than I have. We would definitely go to another Save Ferris concert!
