After 27 years, 29 countries, and countless shows, Murs is taking his final bow—or at least the kind that requires tour buses, late nights, and annual goodbyes to his family. The underground legend is calling it quits with a proper send-off: a low-key, high-impact farewell tour through intimate club venues where he can look fans in the eye, take requests, and say a heartfelt thank you.
The Victory Lap
This isn’t a flashy exit. There’s no big-budget production, no massive stage setup. Just Murs, his stories, and the songs that built a career from the ground up. He’s showing up, playing what people want to hear, and selling copies of his first book, Tour Vol. 1. It’s raw. It’s personal. It’s everything his fans love about him distilled into one last ride.
While Murs won’t disappear completely—expect future mixtapes and guest features—he’s shifting gears. As a married father of four, he’s earned the right to retreat to the suburbs and focus on his family. Touring takes a toll, and after nearly three decades, the grind has caught up with him.
A wednesday in Chicago
I almost didn’t go. It was a Wednesday (4/21/25) night in Chicago—cold, windy, and typical. I knew I’d be standing for hours. But something told me this was worth it. So I parked in front of Subterranean (SubT), paid the meter, stepped out, and there he was: Murs himself, right outside the venue, chatting with his crew.
I didn’t rush him. Just gave a wave and a smile. I went inside, grabbed my ticket and wristband, then came back out to hover near the edge of his circle, listening. After a moment, he turned and said, “How you doing, brother?”
That simple gesture meant the world. I told him I was a long-time fan—saw him almost 20 years ago at the Abbey Pub—and he laughed, said he remembered. We exchanged a high five, and I asked for a photo (because hey, I’m too old to be shy about it). He didn’t hesitate—put his arm around me, smiled for the camera. A class act through and through.
We chatted for a second—he told me leaving his kids for even a week is tough these days. I said I understood completely. I’d snuck out myself, with a wife and kids at home, just for this night.
No Hype, Just Heart
Inside, there was no DJ. No hype man. Just Murs, his laptop, a photographer friend, and a mic. He took requests, queued tracks, and gave us a mix of music and memories.
He shared the stage—and his heart. One moment that stuck with me was a story about a white rapper (Slug from Atmosphere) he toured with who showed him what it meant to truly respect women and that sex was not just a means to an end. Murs opened up about his own growth and how moments on the road shaped the man he’s become. It wasn’t just entertaining—it was human, humble, and honest.
A Show for the Fans
This show wasn’t about new singles or commercial hits. It was about the fans. Deep cuts. Personal stories. Laughter. Reflection. Gratitude.
As I stood just a few feet away, beer in hand, soaking it all in, I realized: this wasn’t just a performance. It was a conversation. A goodbye hug in sonic form.
If Murs is coming to your city, go. Don’t think twice. Shows like this don’t come around often, and artists like Murs are even rarer.
Farewell, Badman. And thank you.
🎤 Find Murs Tour Dates Here
📘 Buy Tour Vol. 1 (if available online)
🎧 Listen to Murs on Spotify
📸 Follow Murs on Instagram
And your ears shall hear... 
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