Tom Reed & The Tandem: This Is How Favorites Are Made
- Moose Nicholson
- Jul 30
- 8 min read
Tom Reed & The Tandem RETURNS
Alright, I owe Tom Reed & The Tandem an apology.
Last week, I said it was their first time playing Amp. It wasn’t. They played here back in 2018—before I was writing these blogs, before I was even really involved with the series. Which is probably why I didn’t remember. I was too busy helping open Whiskey Alley to notice what was happening just outside the front door.
But looking back now, that version of The Alley feels like a different lifetime entirely.
Davoirs was gone. Whiskey Alley had just opened.
Trio still stood where Fuse would be and Southbound is now.
The old Brewpub was still pouring pints where Electric Eats lives today.
Taproom was barely a year in.
Mellow Mushroom had only recently replaced The Bowery.
There was no True Aiken, no Woodchuckers, no REFT Equipment, Rhumba Rum Bar and Cigar Lounge, Downtown Hydration, or Aiken’s Barbershop yet.
But if there was music playing down The Alley—Howard Lowery was there.
Because he always was.
Still is.
HOLO123.
Tom brought all that into focus again Thursday night.
Before they played See You on the Other Side, he paused—genuinely, not for applause—and talked about Ozzy Osbourne. About how sometimes you don’t even realize the weight someone carried until they’re gone. There was no music like Ozzy until there was Ozzy—and then everything changed.
Their performance didn’t try to reinvent the song or water it down.
They honored it.
They played it the way you’re supposed to when someone shaped an entire genre.
It carried a quiet kind of power—less of a moment, more of a message.
It said thank you.
And it meant it.
Because that’s how memory works.
It doesn’t always show up on time.
It skips. It fades.
It shows up like a burnt CD—Sharpie half-smudged, track 3 scratched just enough to skip, but you fast-forward past it anyway because the rest of it still hits.
Kind of like Ozzy.
Kind of like Thursday.
(And if you’ve never seen a CD in your life, just imagine a playlist with no cover art and half the songs greyed out. Still slaps.)
Tom Reed showed up worried. And honestly, who could blame him?
Around 2pm, half the restaurants in The Alley had water pouring in under their doors. Not a sprinkle. A soaker. The kind of storm that makes musicians reconsider the gig, the gear, and whether they should’ve gone to trade school instead. This storm felt like it should have had it's own name.
But by showtime, the skies held. The ground dried just enough to work with. The heat backed off, but the humidity made sure we didn’t get cocky.
Still, once Tom strapped in, things settled. Caleb smiled like someone who’d already forgotten there was ever a forecast. Sid gave the count. And off they went.
I may have introduced them like a brand-new act, but this group has been playing together for over a decade. The foundation’s is well established, what we get now is refinement.
Tom’s strength is in how little he forces it. There’s no wasted motion. Every guitar lick lands clean, and out of nowhere, the easygoing groove breaks wide open into a solo that snaps the whole room to attention. His vocals sit right in that pocket too—controlled, expressive, with just enough flex to remind you he’s not phoning any of it in.
Caleb Wilkerson was in his own world on bass—and I mean that in the best way. There’s a joy to his playing that feels less like performance and more like meditation. Like he’s communing with the groove while the rest of us are just lucky enough to overhear it.
And Sid? We’re getting there.
Sid Sikes was already telling on himself at soundcheck.
You could hear it in the way he cracked the snare—Clean. Fast. Explosive. A few minutes in, I spotted it: a double bass pedal.
Given the setlist so far—Jet Airliner, A Letter to Maria, Unchain My Heart—there was absolutely no reason for it. I turned to Brody, who was filling in on sound for the night, and said, “Man, I love that he brought a double bass pedal for absolutely no reason.”
A few moments later, mid-Superstition, Sid snuck in a quick double-kick burst. Just a flash. Brody slapped my arm and yelled, “There it is!” and we both lost it, laughing like idiots in sync.
At first break, Sid had already worn through the head on his kick drum.
Not cracked. Not dented. Worn through.
But the most unexpected moment didn’t come from his feet—it came from his voice.
Midway through a medley that blended Won’t Go Home Without You by Maroon 5 into Every Breath You Take by The Police, amazing by the way, Sid leaned into the mic from behind the kit and sang. Not just backup—lead. Not just carried it—owned it. His tone was locked in, the phrasing nailed, and the surprise hit the crowd like a cymbal crash in slow motion.
It was one of those “wait… is he singing?” moments.
After the song, Sid joked that he never told Brody he also handles lead vocals, and probably blew up his EQ settings in the process. He certainly shattered everyone's expectations.
Rain doesn’t just soak the pavement—it soaks the expectations.
And Thursday’s downpour had people convinced we were canceling or moving the show indoors again. Missy over at Southbound said someone even called to ask if the band was playing inside the restaurant—she read it on social media.
We weren’t.
We never said we were.
But rumors have a way of getting louder than facts.
It was a hard parabola of a crowd—slow climb, strong center, and a scene that felt fuller than it had any right to after the kind of storm we had.
They showed up. Even if some of them showed up late.
And we’ll always do what we can to make sure there’s a stage to show up to.
Canceling Amp is never our Plan A. It’s not even Plan B.
It’s reserved for extreme, unavoidable circumstances.
If there’s a safe way to run the show—you can bet we will.
When Tom said you don’t always realize someone’s impact until they’re gone, he was talking about Ozzy. But the weight of that moment carried further than the stage. Because it’s not just people we forget to celebrate.
It's places. It’s moments. It’s the businesses we walk past without stepping in.
The shows we skip.
The bands we mean to hear next time.
And when “next time” doesn’t come, we’re left saying things like,
“I loved that place.”
Or worse,
“I never got a chance to go.”
I didn’t realize that Tom Reed & The Tandem had played here before.
And if most people didn’t either, that’s not on them—it’s just time doing what time does.
Seven years is a long stretch. Especially when half of it feels like a different lifetime entirely.
In the years since, we’ve seen Tom around—solo gigs, acoustic sets, BodegaCat. He’s never gone anywhere. But The Tandem hadn’t hit the Amp stage since 2018. That’s not a knock on them. If anything, it might be on us for not booking them sooner.
But that’s what made Thursday night land the way it did.
It wasn’t a comeback.
It wasn’t a debut.
It was a reintroduction.
Whether it’s a band, a restaurant, or a Thursday night show—
some things run their course. Others stick around because enough people decided they should.
Either way, the ones that last the longest?
They started with someone showing up, giving it a chance, and telling someone else it was worth it.
So go.
Try the thing.
Tell somebody when it’s good.
That’s how favorites are made. And Tom Reed and The Tandem became a new favorite for a whole lot of people Thursday Night.
Aiken Angels
A few weeks ago, something happened that reminded all of us why this town feels different.
On an ordinary afternoon at City Billiards, Aiken Standard Executive Editor John Boyette suffered a heart attack mid-lunch. What followed was anything but ordinary. Terra Jones, owner of CB’s, immediately jumped into action. Sitting nearby was Tasha Davis—nurse practitioner, Aiken local, and owner of Downtown Hydration—who stepped in and took over chest compressions. Aiken Public Safety Officer Barrett Goff arrived soon after with a defibrillator, delivering the shock that brought John back.
Their quick thinking and selfless action saved a life. Full stop.
Tasha doesn’t just run a wellness business—she lives the values that inspired it. Compassion. Presence. Action under pressure. That’s the kind of person we’re proud to call a sponsor of Amp the Alley.
And Barrett? You’ve probably seen him working our events—part of the ADPS team that keeps Amp safe, week after week. We’re lucky to have them watching over this town, and we’re especially grateful they were there that day.
We’re glad John is still here to tell the story.
And we’re thankful for the people who make stories like that possible.
True Aiken Amped Every Thursday
When downtown fills with music, True Aiken keeps the doors open.
They’re one of the businesses that doesn’t just support Amp—they extend the night. Open late every Thursday, they make sure you can swing in before the show, after the encore, or whenever the mood strikes. Whether you’re browsing, buying, or just looking to cool off and soak in the local flavor—True Aiken makes room for you.
And this weekend? It’s Tax-Free Weekend, which means it’s the perfect time to treat yourself to something local without giving the state a cut.
Great music. Local shopping. No tax.
Sounds like Thursday was just the warm-up.
PAL - Patrick Daddario Live Music
Saturday night’s lineup is looking familiar—in the best way.
Patrick Daddario, frontman of The Grumble, is bringing the solo vibes to Electric Eats this weekend. If you caught their Amp set earlier this season, you already know: Pat’s voice doesn’t just carry, it sticks. And if you missed it? This is your second chance.
Electric Eats continues to be one of those places where the music doesn’t stop when the Thursday lights go down. You grab a drink, find a seat, and stay awhile—because half the time, it’s someone you’ve already clapped for in The Alley.
Amp may be the spark,
but places like Electric Eats keep it lit all week long.
Girl Dinners!
We talk a lot about how Aiken keeps changing—and Rhumba just proved that evolution can be shaken, stirred, and served with a side of fries.
This week they launched their own spin on the viral “Girl Dinner” trend, and we’re not talking about snacks and vibes. We're talking Espresso, Cosmo, Lemon Drop, or Dirty Martini, paired with grilled shrimp or chicken, a side salad, and fries—every Wednesday night for just $32.
Call it Ladies Night with bite.
Call it a downtown reset button.
Either way, Rhumba’s giving midweek the kind of energy that usually waits for Thursday.
Amp may own Thursdays, but Rhumba’s taking Wednesdays.
You love to see it.
Tomorrow: Ethan Stallings Group
Augusta-based and jazz-funk rooted, this versatile group blends Steely Dan grooves, Hendrix soul, and modern fusion flair into something that’s all their own. Catch a vibe, then catch the video.
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