Concert Review: Waxahatchee Sings To Hope & Sadness At LPR
Prepare for me to ask the most obvious question: “You ever felt like you were not yourself?” Not just that you weren’t who you are supposed to be, in some future term, but also you are not being “you” in the present? Sometimes, it is hard to hold on to the “fineness” of being. In a world that asks us to hold on to contentment, and hope happiness comes after, Waxahatchee sang, at Le Poisson Rouge, to the moments when even being okay felt like a struggle.
The key to Waxahatchee’s star is her loneliness: from its enrage to its sullenness. I know that sounds dark, but in a music industry that is increasingly embracing themes of anxiety, depression, and alienation, Waxahatchee has the gift of taking those elements and turning them into songs. From “Chapel of Pines” to “Takes So Much” or “Swan Dive,” every song felt like an emotional purge, which is sooooooo needed after a work day. You may laugh, but concerts are an investment, and, for that reason, you need to be selective on what you, sonically, let into your personal space on a weekday. After all, you have work tomorrow! Yet, Waxahatchee felt right for a weekday show because, from Monday to Friday, life is about what we give to others.
From our bosses to our family, Monday Blues hit us because we know the demands on us will rise, and our desire to offer ourselves to others, even if we feel empty, will surge. It is in that nuance that Waxahatchee’s voice rises. She is the human sweetness in all of us that wishes it could make everybody happy, while quietly wallowing on the fact that no one is truly bringing us joy. Yet, there is an ironic connection between those two truths. Just imagine how many people you have tried to please that, despite your kindness, could not receive your love because they did not have it for themselves. Blessed with a voice that can weep, mewl, crescent, and ascend a vocal note, Waxahatchee is love meeting love, and she does it with effortlessness.
LPR is a very intimate, sophisticatedly dark space. It can feel like Heaven’s basement: an atmospherically light room where God leaves all his St. Peter statues (lol!). I say this because Waxahatchee is a leisured, gracious presence that brings good nature into her dynamics with an audience. Yet, all that affability only highlights the glamorous gloominess of her melodies and verses. For More Information On Waxahatchee Click Here.
