I’ve seen my fair share of unabashed Juggalos and debutante ball beauties in Atlanta. But of the bevy of youth subcultures in this city, the most fascinating may be the local D.I.Y. (do it yourself) music scene, rife with young local artists like rapper Chris Chandler and folk-rock songstresses like Faye Webster. On Feb.18, Louisiana native and blossoming D.I.Y prince, Zack Villere, performed songs from his new LP, “Cardboard City,” for an enthusiastic crowd of nearly 150 hip-hop heads, “e-girls” and college radio kids in Little Five Points’ Aisle 5 music venue. The show was a part of Villere’s first headlining tour, “Trevor Rice is Not Going on Tour.” Despite his palpable nervousness, Villere delivered an engaging and memorable performance alongside bassist Alex Szotak and sultry rhythm and blues duo Mulherin.
When describing Villere’s sound, Tanya Bedi, a student from Georgia State University, shared that it is “what you listen to when you’re ‘in the feels.’” As a long time listener of Villere’s music, I concur. Songs like “Look Right Thru,” a track from Villere’s debut 2017 album “Little World,” capture quintessential anxieties about everyday relationships in a distinctly vulnerable way. In the song, Villere sings, “It's kind of awkward when I see you now, I say hi you say bye, I say nothing at all. Can we go back to the way it was?”
These lyrics are swaddled in skanking jazz notes, hip-hoppy flourishes and followed by a danceable beat breakdown. It’s a song that, in the absence of a better phrase, “slaps.” Its musings are relateable and entrenched in Villere’s brash warbling and genre-bending sound. He’s a sonic blend of Kevin Krauter’s bedroom rock sensibilities and Loyle Carner and Rebel Kleff’s undergirding fluency in hip-hop boom baps.
For the headbanging kids in the cozy venue, the joyful black boys with technicolor dreads and the girls in the front row with glitter stained eyelids, Villere’s show was enjoyable, not simply because his lyrical vulnerability subverts the almost masturbatory sadness of simpleton Soundcloud crooners. But also because his career exemplifies, for art kids everywhere, that people like them — Villere and fellow friends and musicians Parker Mulherin and Marshall Mulherin — can work on their craft and share it with people who’ll listen. He and stellar accompanying bassist Szotak captivated the crowd with their live rendition of “Bloo” and performance of “Super,” a song they thrice performed with a warm reception.
When Villere donned the stage in a forest green pullover and magenta uggs, kids in the crowd hollered. When he yelled an expletive after messing up the introduction to a song early on in his set, they hollered. When he found his stride during performances of “Grateful,” “Sand People” and new songs like “Sore Throat,” a single from “Cardboard City” with a remarkably rich emotional interiority, they hollered. Villere’s stuttered gait, mid-song stank face and conversation with concertgoers betweens songs, captivated the crowd of young people. Throughout the show, he fluttered his fingers and danced in anticipation of certain sonic lilts. Those small gestures demonstrated his keen musical instincts and highlighted his endearing personality.
In addition to Villere’s delivery of an engaging show, the most moving aspect of his performance was the way the crowd saw themselves in him. The combined symbolic importance of Villere’s performance and the fun of watching him ease into his set made for a vibrant show.
Tennessee twins Parker and Marshall Mulherin, known as Mulherin, delivered an impressive opening set, full of original lovesick lullabies. They’re one part Alex Burey, two parts Nick Hakim.The duo performed songs from their 2020 EP “Blurry” as well as a stripped-back cover of Usher’s classic paternity scare anthem, “Confessions.” Under hazy azure and indigo lights, Mulherin led the audience in sing-alongs to their sensual honeyed harmonies. Their easy-going nature and approachability undoubtedly contributed to the electric energy that filled Aisle 5.
Villere and Mulherin stayed after the concert for half an hour to talk and take photos with concert attendees.
When I asked Villere what he’d say to apprehensive young people who look up to him and, like him, want to make music, he said, “Just do it, by any means necessary.”
