Faye Webster: cultivating community at the Greek Theater

September 27th was beginning to feel like a pleasant evening for live music, as UC Berkeley students and Bay Area locals, alike, flocked to the Greek Theater for none other than Faye Webster. Summer seemed to hold onto the night with a stubborn grip, refusing to let in the chill of autumn air that characteristically accompanies a late September night in Berkeley. The streets were adorned with flowing white skirts, loosened ties, and Doc Martens as I began my trek up the hill. Luckily enough, my apartment happens to be only a 10 minute walk to the Greek–– closer than some of my lecture halls this semester. I arrived 15 minutes or so before the opener, mei ehara, took the stage, and made my way to the photo pit.

To be completely frank with you, I was overrun with anxiety at this point, being that it was my first time photographing a show (I’ve only ever stuck to writing reviews) but–– with some encouragement from my friends and roommates–– I was ready to prove to myself that I was capable. I quickly settled into a more comfortable state once ehara’s smooth, groovy melodies began to float over the crowd. This was one of those shows where I felt that the opener was perfectly picked to support the main artist–– which I haven’t always experienced. The audience was feeding off of ehara’s discography, getting primed for the night of music ahead. I hesitate to compare musical artists, but I felt that her sound paralleled Webster’s Atlanta Millionaires Club (2019) as well as the work of Men I Trust or the Cocteau Twins–– masterfully marrying a kind of haziness with strong vocals and intoxicating melodies. With lyrics entirely in Japanese, ehara took the crowd by storm with her effortlessly jazzy, dreampop-esque set, featuring standout solos from members of her band. I had gone into the show absolutely unfamiliar with ehara and her work, but I left a fan, that’s for sure. It felt like a magical experience, with everyone picking up on the band’s energy, exhibiting the power music has in transcending cultural and linguistic boundaries.

And then, all at once, it was time for the main event. The stage was transformed into Webster’s own little world, decorated with a white t-shirt stretching from floor to ceiling, clothing racks, and a lighted laundromat set up near the back of the stage. In true Webster fashion, the show opened with Minion projections singing a rendition of her song “But Not Kiss” in Minionese, before the singer made her entrance to sing the song herself. Throughout the set, and heavily in the first song, there was a creative use of dynamic lighting to emphasize different musicalities. Whether the stage was bathed in a melancholy blue light, Webster was illuminated with fleeting flashes of light, or visuals were projected on the hanging white t-shirt at the back of the stage, there was never a shortage of eye-catching aspects to underscore the performance. As well as this, she captured a sense of childlike wonder by releasing a stream of bubbles into the crowd framing both the beginning and end of her set.

If I were to choose a word to describe the relationship between the packed audience of the Greek Theater, and Webster, I would say: connected. The crowd seamlessly echoed the singer for fan favorites like “Right Side of My Neck” and “Jonny,” while remaining attentive for the softer, more emotional moments of her set. In a venue as large as the Greek, I was unsure that Webster would still be able to cultivate the feeling of intimacy that her music is associated with, but if anything, it felt like a collective all appreciating the beauty and poetry of her music together. However, that’s not to say that the crowd lacked energy–– far from it. An electric cloud of suspense loomed large before the start of each song, the audience almost inching forward in anticipation of what the next song would be. As soon as the first chords provided a kind of reveal, the crowd roared in excitement, enhancing the feeling of community the show elicited.

Webster certainly has a talent for making you grateful that you’re seeing and experiencing her songs live, whether it be through her quirky little screams and vocal inflections, musical extensions, or the impromptu high-energy Yo-Yo performance break mid-show. I think it is impossible to pinpoint which song the crowd was most excited about–– or myself, for that matter–– as the energy never waned. Yet, one of the highlights of her set was definitely “Jonny” / “Jonny Reprise,” as it contained such a multitude of emotion with Webster continuously collapsing over the keyboard. The singer truly captured the attention of the entire venue by beginning with a dramatic, slowed version of the song, and eventually transitioning into the monologue of “Jonny Reprise,” interspersed with vocal breaks and quivers. Another special feature of the set was her performance of the unreleased “After the First Kiss,” a jazzy, sapphic love song reminiscent of the tropicality of Atlanta Millionaires Club (2019). This single, to be released next week according to an instagram post the following morning, featured beautiful string elements alongside a kind of bossa nova percussion. Speaking of the band, they only made the music stronger, by providing standout additions, such as the saxophone solo during “A Dream With a Baseball Player.”

Aside from the Yo-Yo invasion part way through the show, Webster was accompanied by her opener, ehara, for the pair to perform their entrancing musical collaboration “Overslept (feat. mei ehara)” off of I Know I’m Funny haha (2021).Additionally, upon returning to the stage for her encore, she brought her best friend LuLu with her to sing harmony and play keys on “Feeling Good Today,” lending a new kind of intimacy to the track. Another exhibition of intimacy occurred in her performance of “He Loves Me Yeah!” in which she changed all of the pronouns in the song to “she” as a declaration of queer joy and love. As a member of the queer community, I found myself grinning like an idiot the entirety of the song and the crowd went wild with every lyric change.

In my not so humble opinion, Webster saved the best for last, ending the night with “Kingston,” and a reprise of the bubbles from earlier in the show. It felt like such a special, reverent experience to see not only that song live, but the whole of the setlist; I was experiencing the comforting soundtrack to so many late nights and lazy mornings, warming my fingertips with hot tea served with milk and honey. Although there were unfortunately a lot of medical emergencies that happened during the show, Webster led with grace and care, facilitating the exit of individuals from the crowd, and never proceeding with her performance until she knew everyone was okay.

Walking home among so many concert-goers hand-in-hand, I felt a sense of radiating love and blissfulness–– an inevitable aftereffect of Webster’s music. As I walked along the route that I return from class each day, I wasn’t thinking about my untouched quiz on bCourses due that night at 11:59 PM. I was enraptured by the display of the collectivity of music I had just witnessed. Webster reminded me, yet again, of how lucky we are to get to experience live music altogether, as a community.

Article and Photos by Elena Levin