Ryan Berg
Audio By Carbonatix
On a Thursday night at the Balcony Club, the hush of the crowd and the infectious electricity of the moment are no accident.
“It started with some candles and a concept,” says Ryan Berg, a veteran Dallas singer-songwriter who hosts the weekly Candlelit Open Mic.
Candles glow across tables in the narrow East Dallas venue, nestled directly above the Lakewood Theater. The bar hums quietly behind the crowd, and when a musician steps to the microphone, the audience stops talking and listens. A coin could drop, and it would be shushed.
Candlelit Open Mic carries a familiar name, but it operates differently from most other open mics in Dallas. The focus is not on experimentation or first attempts, but rather refinement. It is less a place to work your way around a C chord and more a place to show how the time since your first C has forged you into the competent musician you are — “showcase” over “show up.”
Dallas has no shortage of songwriter nights, jams and open stages, and as a veteran of many of them, Berg does not see Candlelit as competing with them. Instead, he views it as filling a specific role in the local music ecosystem. Each performer signs up for two songs, and there is one microphone and a professional sound check. What comes through the speakers is how the artist would sound in any professional venue they plan to play.
“You truly hear what you sound like,” one performer said. In a way, the candles echo the vibe of this professional listening room, signaling that the intimate show is one where nuance and restraint will be heard and therefore matter.
“The energy in this place has been created by so many former musicians and artists,” Trish Martin, a regular attendee, tells us. “There’s no other place where you feel that pressure to perform and be excellent. It’s a thrill.”
Another performer, Jacob Hernandez, says the pressure of a professional atmosphere hits harder than at a standard open mic.
“If you give it your all here and your music still sucks, you know you need to get better,” he says. “If the pressure of that doesn’t light a fire under your ass, then you should probably take up a job, or baking.”
Tiger Scott, a multi-instrumentalist who has been attending Candlelit consistently since the beginning, also says the ambient pressure is what separates Candlelit from other songwriter nights.
“Most open mics are trying grounds,” Scott says. “You workshop songs, test ideas, get comfortable onstage. This is different. This is a proving ground.”
Not for Beginners
That distinction is central to how Candlelit functions. It is not pretending to be an entry point for beginners; it’s a space where songs are expected to arrive with some polish.
“There’s a consistently high level of talent here every single week,” Scott adds. “Because of that, this isn’t the place I’d recommend for a beginner. I’d suggest it for someone who’s already proven or who’s been doing this for a while.”
The structure of the night reinforces that mindset. The crowd is expected to remain quiet as songs are respected, much like a formal show. Two-song sets pass quickly, forcing performers to choose carefully. Other than the perfectly mixed drinks behind the bar, there is little room for indulgence.
The Balcony Club itself plays a significant role. The intimate East Dallas venue carries the presence of artists who have passed through before, and that history is felt rather than announced.
“It’s a very classy joint,” says Jacob Zazz, a musician who hosts an open mic of his own called The Songwriter’s Social.
Berg credits much of Candlelit’s success to the trust he has earned from the club.
“They take a very laissez-faire approach to management,” Berg says. “That allows me to act on my own instincts in how I host, promote and book artists.”
Each Thursday hosts a sound engineer hell-bent on getting the most out of each artist’s performance. Berg says that the degree of attention makes a difference.
“A lot of engineers treat acoustic acts like a walk in the park,” Berg says, referring to most sound techs’ proclivities to put a quarter-inch cable into an acoustic guitar and call it a day. “Miles actually tries to understand each artist’s sound and find the right mix.”
That technical care also reflects the night’s broader philosophy: If musicians are asked to be vulnerable, the room owes them clarity. In an odd way, the venue’s dim lighting actually allows audiences to see more.
That ethos has drawn support from musicians well beyond the local open mic circuit. Mayo Valdez, the drummer for Dallas breakout Charley Crockett, has become a vocal supporter of Candlelit and the standards it upholds. When asked his thoughts on Candlelit, Valdez responded, “No one wants to hear from a drummer about that. The songs are all there … but if anybody here ever needs that two and four, they can hit me on my 214.”
Over the past year, Candlelit has offered a laundry list of Dallas’ best singer-songwriters, including Dev Wulf, Corina Grove, Billy Law, Jake Quillin, Jade Nickol and Kelvin Thomas.
For Berg, much of the appeal is simply being able to witness it all from the audience himself.
“As a full-time artist, I’m usually missing my friends’ performances because I’m playing somewhere else across town,” he says. “It’s amazing to actually get to listen to people I care about.”
One performance stands out most to Berg.
“My favorite performance this year was Hazel,” he says. “I didn’t know her well at all, but she put everything she had into that performance. We all had chills.”
Those moments, quiet and collective, define Candlelit. It prioritizes songwriting, attention, and the work it takes to improve a craft.
“Ryan is a genuinely talented musician,” Scott says. “But beyond that, he’s incredibly down to earth. Creating an environment like this says a lot about his vision. It asks more of performers and listeners alike.”
You can catch Candlelit Open Mic on Thursday nights from 7 p.m. to midnight at the Balcony Club.