I went to my first concert last Sunday. Concerts have never really appealed to me; the envisioned amalgamation of sweaty, intoxicated bodies was not how I wanted to spend my weekends. But despite all my misgivings, social anxiety and claustrophobia, I still found myself standing in a line winding through the cracked asphalt parking lot desperate to see Fletcher, popular in the queer community as an activist and pop artist from New Jersey.
The Variety Playhouse is not a huge venue, but it’s perfect for the intimacy of Fletcher’s music. The hour-long set made up for the three-year halt in Fletcher’s tour due to the pandemic, and it revived both a musical and personal evolution from the devastating heartbreak anthems in “you ruined new york city for me” to the blurred lines of lovers and exes in “THE S(EX) TAPES.”
“THE S(EX) TAPES” was created while Fletcher and her ex, YouTuber Shannon Beveridge, were quarantined together, and all the music videos were shot by Beveridge without any external crew or props. Getting to see and hear their vision alive was somehow both excruciating and breathtaking; the history of the album and the artist is a flawless setup for the nuanced exploration of what it means to love, to be loved and to fall out of love.
Though I didn’t know Amelia Moore, Fletcher’s first opener, the heavy bass notes and alt-pop sound vibrated through the floor and hyped up the crowd. As soon as Moore’s songs ended, the crew rushed to set up for Julia Wolf. Wolf’s music, which incorporated faster beats and rapping, was completely different from my usual music taste, but I still enjoyed the adrenaline rush. Her engagement with the crowd made the performance all the more memorable, inciting and tempting us for Fletcher’s imminent appearance.
The wait for Fletcher was almost agonizing. While we stood around, someone suddenly tapped me on the shoulder and handed me a stack of multi-colored paper hearts. On one side there was a small note that said, “Hold this heart up when Fletcher sings ‘Healing,’ the last song in the setlist to show her how proud we are.” Soon after, I heard bass drums and Fletcher’s voice echo in the auditorium. I pocketed the heart and turned toward the stage.
The almost three-minute intro with flashing red lights gave way to Fletcher, who was wearing a white top, jeans and a moss green jacket, standing on top of a concrete structure. The opening notes of “girls girls girls” caused the whole crowd to erupt in an enthusiastic chanting of the chorus, a riff off of Katy Perry’s “I Kissed a Girl.” As soon as the song ended, she quickly jumped into “Forever,” “Cherry,” her recent collaboration with Hayley Kiyoko and “If You’re Gonna Lie.” The energy and noise in the Playhouse were electrifying, and I could barely hear my own voice as it melted into the crowd. For the last six years, my discovery and appreciation of Fletcher had been a solitary one, but listening to her music live and with thousands of fans like myself was a surreal, existential experience altogether.
While I don’t have another concert experience to compare, being less than 30 feet from the stage felt magical. Fletcher designed the stage to look like the concrete jungle of New York City, where she got her heart broken for the first time, which served as the inspiration for her EP “you ruined new york city for me.” Pillars filled the space onstage; inside each wall was a member of Fletcher’s band, a scene no different from the crowded skyscrapers surrounding New York City, a melting pot of people from around the world. She continued the set with “All Love” and “Undrunk,” one of her first songs I ever listened to. The emotionally charged danceable beats are contrasted with a regretful and longing break up, perhaps mirroring the extreme spectrum of emotions a person might feel.
Halfway through the set, Fletcher stepped down from the stage to sign boobs: a hallmark of all her concerts on this tour. The entire audience was anticipating this moment, with people in the front holding up signs like “Sign my girlfriend’s tits,” “You’re my girlfriend’s hall pass” and waving Sharpies above their heads.
Fletcher’s transition into “S(EX) TAPES” started with more danceable songs like “Silence” and “If I Hated You” before turning to “Feel,” one of the slower songs from the EP. The album follows a complicated breakup, and it isn’t until “Feel” where the realization of the breakup finally sinks into her mind. The pain in her voice is still evident as she croons, “I’ll drink this wine, like it’s medicine for the mind.” Fletcher turned the microphone back at us, encouraging everyone to shout the lyrics they knew, further connecting us not only with her but also with the melancholic emotions of the song.
Fletcher finished the show with an unreleased song she wrote for herself and her acoustic “Healing,” an ending to a setlist that perhaps symbolizes the transformation of both her music and herself. Immediately, a sea of hearts rose up from the crowd. Fletcher choked up; her voice cracked while she sang as she expressed her gratitude and love for her fanbase. Though “Healing” is not an upbeat song, it was the perfect ending to her concert: a vulnerable ode to the physical and mental pain that everyone is trying to work through.
If there’s one word to explain Fletcher’s music, it would be unfiltered. I’ve always admired her honesty and rawness — not just in the topics she chooses to write about, like heartbreak and sex, but also in her unabashed fear of words and language. Her music bares forth uncomfortable emotions and brings up memories for each person that they might be too scared to face. For me, in particular, Fletcher’s music forced me to reckon with telling, admitting and believing the truth not to anyone else but myself.
With my Fletcher hoodie closely hugged to my body, I vividly remember walking outside and saying to Brammhi Balarajan (23C), “This is the most amount of gay I’ve ever experienced in my life.” As much as sexuality is a spectrum, so was the queer audience at Fletcher. Driving away from the Playhouse and seeing the rest of the audience shuffling onto the sidewalk, I found myself less alone and more willing to breathe for the sake of myself.
Sophia Ling (24C) is from Carmel, Indiana.
