Picture this: an 8th grade singing performance. Me, an awkward 13-year old wearing an Aeropostale shirt, nervous and sweating in front of the crowd. I had chosen to sing “Love Song” by Sara Bareilles, which I spent weeks practicing and listening to on my iPod. This was one of the first, highly nerve-wracking times I sang live in front of an audience, but somewhere along the way, her bold voice and snarky lyrics granted me the confidence to borrow her song.
Fast forward seven years later – I’m listening to “Love Song” live at the shiny new Chase Center in San Francisco, and my inner 13-year old self is beaming. I knew Sara Bareilles made good music, both then and now, but to be honest, it took her Amidst the Chaos (2019) tour for me to fully appreciate the impact of her artistry. I didn’t know it then, but the way her confidence transmitted so quickly to me through “Love Song” is the epitome of why her music is so powerful. She takes her raw, unadulterated thoughts and whips them up effortlessly into song – every piece has a specific experience attached to it, and somehow each one communicates her emotions perfectly. There’s a simultaneous specificity and universality that amazes me.
As someone who is fascinated by the creative process, I really appreciate her commentary on nearly every song. From “Eyes On You,” which documents the stories of real friends she made at a mediation class, to “Miss Simone,” which comes from a specific summer she and her partner spent rediscovering Nina Simone’s music together – as she continues to unpack, different parts of her life begin to compound into a coherent whole, and it almost feels like I know her.
While she writes about her own life, a lot of her music also ends up being relevant to very important battles we face in society today. “Armor,” which was my favorite performance of the night, comes from Bareilles’ admiration for the modern feminist movement, celebrating diversity and intersectionality within womanhood. She stresses the importance of movements being inclusive, and invites people of all kinds to join in her thinking. As a woman in the audience, I definitely remember feeling hope, empowerment, and awe for what she stands for. Her song is about the strength women channel in dealing with all of the bullshit thrown their way, the pesky subtleties and frustrations of sexism. Her song begs the question: how did Eve end up with all the blame anyways? Another song of hers I think is really impactful is “Brave,” which is a love letter to a friend that struggled with coming out. When it first came out, this song exploded into a forum for the LGBTQ community, a means to share personal stories and talk about their identities. This, as she emphasizes throughout the concert, is the most rewarding and crucial aspect to her as a songwriter: spurring impactful change. If you ask me, isn’t that what art is for?
Bareilles’ speaks about Waitress (2015), the Broadway musical that she composed in 2015, and how it was the most challenging yet rewarding thing her career ever offered. She mentions how having a product of her creativity blow up (it’s been on Broadway for four years now, with several translated international versions) has reinforced her love for what she does, tenfold. With talented singers from her band, she performs songs from the soundtrack, including “Falling in Love Pie” and “Door Number Three.” Her performance of “She Used to Be Mine,” also from Waitress, is stunning – I’m not kidding when I say that I almost cried. Not to mention, her falsetto riffs are so angelic that I turn to my friend in shock, mouth wide open.
I believe Sara Bareilles has mastered the art of being snarky in the sweetest way possible. Take “King of Anything” for example, which is basically a giant “screw you” in musical form. Despite this, she somehow makes it sound catchy and polite at the same time. It reminds me of “Love Song,” her unapologetic lyrics dancing around the room. While tracks like “I Choose You” and “King of Anything” are more upbeat, there were definitely also slower points during the concert, points when I could tell she was at her most vulnerable. “She Used to Be Mine,” is one, as is “Saint Honesty,” and “No Such Thing.” I’ve never seen a live singer express their emotions so naturally while performing. There is no questioning that her lyrics come from emotions so palpable and raw that they are instantly conjured back up each time she returns to them.
There are few things that are better than loving an artist’s music only to realize that you might actually love the artist even more. After the concert, I was trying to write down some thoughts, but the only two words I have in my notes app are: “SO GENUINE.” The way she is so vocal about her day-to-day struggles, her heartbreak, and her beliefs is refreshing. It makes her music incredibly relatable and inspiring, and what I think maybe contributes to its dual specificity-universality quality. Onstage, she is sassy, sarcastic, and funny (I laughed, a lot), and at least for me, it was hard not to instantly want to be her friend. For someone that is so utterly talented, humble, empowered, real – and not to mention, ~woke~ – I think Sara Bareilles is incredibly underrated. Her art is special; she said it best herself: having a room full of people genuinely connect over her music, even if it’s in different ways…that’s the shit that makes it worthwhile.
Article by Sanjana Sanghani