Very rarely does something born out of loss feel this alive, but Frankie Fest was never meant to sit quietly in grief. It was built to be loud.
“It’s one of the most important days of the year,” said Miss Cherry Delight. “Frankie meant everything to us, everything to me.”
Now in its third year, the queer-led rock festival returns on May 3 with its biggest stage yet– taking over House of Yes for the first time, marking a major evolution for an event rooted in memory, community, and unapologetic sound.
At its core, Frankie Fest is a tribute to Frankie Maddox Rex, the late lead singer of The FMs, whose voice, presence, and spirit continue to echo through the New York music scene. But organizers are clear– this is not a memorial in the traditional sense.
“We are choosing to celebrate Frankie’s life, as opposed to focusing on the tragedy of their death,” said Matte Namer, Frankie’s longtime collaborator and co-founder of the festival.
Instead, Frankie Fest exists as something more active– a space where memory becomes momentum. “I think it was something that we knew we wanted to do pretty soon after Frankie passed away,” Namer said. “It just seemed like a very natural way to honor Frankie. Performing in rock bands was such a major part of Frankie’s life.”
Frankie Maddox RexPhoto by Frankie Maddox Rex
That history runs deep. Namer and Frankie met as teenagers, playing together in early bands across New York’s all-ages rock venues– spaces that shaped their sound and identity.
“We were kind of in each other’s first real band,” Namer recalled. “Music was just always such a big interest for him. Frankie had an incredible voice, and just a real passion that shined through everything that they did.”
That passion is now embedded into the DNA of the festival itself.
This year marks Frankie Fest’s most ambitious leap yet. Moving into House of Yes, a venue long associated with experimental performance, queer nightlife, and radical creativity, feels both symbolic and personal.
“It’s a really special space,” Namer said. “It’s a space that Frankie always wanted to perform at, and it’s by far the biggest, most ambitious Frankie Fest we’ve done.”
With two stages, a projected 750-person ticket sale, and a lineup that blends Brooklyn staples with touring acts, the scale is expanding. But the ethos remains intact.
“We wanted to create something that was absolutely badass, the loudest queer and ally rock festival out there,” Miss Cherry Delight said.
This isn’t a polished, corporate Pride event. It’s gritty, high-volume, and intentionally raw. A space for mosh pits, distortion, and connection.
“This is for people who really want to rock,” she added.
Frankie with Frankie Fest founders Matte Namer & Miss Cherry Delight.Photo by Adam Ninyo
Unlike many tribute events, Frankie Fest doesn’t just reference its namesake, it actively centers him. Throughout the night, Frankie’s voice is woven into performances, ensuring audiences experience his artistry firsthand.
“Everyone who performs is doing something that involves Frankie’s voice,” Miss Cherry Delight said. “You will hear him at this festival, because Frankie was just that special.”
Frankie’s Fender Jaguar will be played on stage for the first time without him at Frankie Fest this year.
That intentionality transforms the event from remembrance into something closer to collaboration across time.
Part of what makes Frankie Fest resonate is its refusal to simplify community into something purely celebratory. It acknowledges both joy and difficulty, especially within artistic spaces.
“It’s not just a normal show,” said Justin Mathews, a guitarist for Miss Cherry Delight and part of the festival’s organizing team. “It’s a celebration, but it’s one that doesn’t shy away from its social impact.”
He pointed to the realities many artists face– pressure, instability, and struggles that often go unaddressed.
Miss Cherry Delight, Justin Ethan Mathews & Matte NamerPhoto courtesy of Frankie Fest
“A festival like this kind of forces audiences and participants to confront some of those things that are not serving the community,” he said.
That includes direct action. This year’s event will offer harm reduction resources like Narcan and fentanyl test strips, alongside partnerships with organizations supporting trans communities.
“It’s really twofold,” Namer said. “We’re raising awareness, and also helping connect people to support.”
From Brooklyn bands like Cat Crash and Villains to touring acts like Girl in a Coma, the lineup reflects the festival’s growing reach. But organizers emphasize that Frankie Fest isn’t defined by names alone.
“It’s not put together with paper clips and a dream,” Miss Cherry Delight said. “We’ve got real people, who are going to blow you away.”
Still, the most powerful moments often come from something less tangible.
At the first Frankie Fest, organizers played a music video featuring Frankie’s vocals. As his voice filled the room, the crowd erupted.
“The audience started to cheer so loudly for him,” Miss Cherry Delight recalled. “He would have been so proud.”
While this year’s move to House of Yes marks a major milestone, the future of Frankie Fest isn’t just about getting bigger.
“I don’t necessarily feel like we have to just make it bigger and bigger,” Namer said. “What feels more important is having more people be involved with it.”
The goal is something more expansive– a community tradition, a shared space, a reason to come back each year.
“We’re going to make sure that Frankie lives forever,” Miss Cherry Delight said.
And when the music finally cuts, organizers hope the feeling lingers. “I hope people walk away feeling inspired,” Namer said. “Like they were part of something that had an ethos.”
Or, as Miss Cherry Delight put it: “When they walk away, they’re not going to be able to wait till next year.”
For more information or to purchase tickets, visit shotgun.live/en/events/3rd-annual-frankie-fest-may-3-2026
