Emei, an alt-pop artist from LA, returned to Boston in March on her “RABBITHOLE” tour. A Chinese-American musician with a growing following, Emei is no stranger to Wellesley College — she performed at the Chinese Student Association’s Culture Show in Spring 2023. However, as my friends asked “What is Emei?” to my plans to see her show, she seems to be still under the radar to many, despite her past string of viral singles.

When she was just 15, she competed on “Chinese Idol,” a Chinese reality/singing competition show, later releasing her first songs in 2021. These songs went viral on TikTok, launching her music career. Since then, she has released three EPs, her latest being “Rabbithole.” Her songs range from electropop earworms to pop-rock headbangers to acoustic ballads. Emei’s music covers a wide range of topics beyond the typical romance-related pop anthems, speaking to friends, family and her personal growth and struggles with anxiety, stress and ADHD. 

For her VIP experience, Emei performed a short acoustic set featuring two of my favorite songs, one of them being her song “Dear Emily.” During her following Q&A and fan meet-up, I noticed that many attendees were decked out in white, black and red –– the main color themes for Emei’s tour. After the VIP experience, the crowd grew exponentially for her sold-out show. 

After watching openers Ashley Mehta and Haiden Henderson, the stage went dark as red lights slowly flashed and illuminated the stage. Emei was here. She opened the show with her viral hit, “Love Me Not,” a catchy pop-rock hit about overthinking. She followed with non-stop jumping songs like “Cynical,” “Irresponsible,” “Crazy Stupid Love,” and “That Girl.” 

During a set filled with fan surprises (such as launching merch into the crowd) Emei performed a host of newly-released songs including “Rabbithole” and “9 Lives” –– two tracks which are on opposite ends of the energy spectrum, but encompass the range of sounds she brings to her discography. 

Emei’s set concluded with her anxious, fun and vibey hit “Scatterbrain,” the title track from her previous album which characterizes her personal experience living with ADHD. However, having had access to the VIP setlist before the show, I knew the show wasn’t over without an encore. Returning to perform “711” –– a favorite of mine which questions Emei’s anxieties and emotions, Emei brought the show to a compelling end. 

After bearing witness to Emei’s energy and song lyrics live, it became clear how she utilizes music to tackle others’ perceptions of her. She unabashedly makes fun of what others may think; and as a Chinese American woman, she brings visibility to living with ADHD in a fun and digestible manner. Commonly seen as a “white boy disorder” and misunderstood in Chinese American women, ADHD can be a contentious topic –– especially when brought to the spheres of arts and music. However, Emei turns her internal monologue into fun and catchy music which can help listeners understand their own inner selves. A bold, colorful and stylish artist, Emei is a stand-out, and certainly one to watch out for.

Contact the editors responsible for this story: Ivy Buck, Nita Kelly

For the Wellesley student spending summer back in their childhood bedroom:

When you’re lying in your twin bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering why 15-year-old  you decided that was a good color to paint a wall, play Lorde’s new single “What Was That ––using your headphones of course, other people live in this house and your brother is studying for the SATs. As a TikTok I once reposted said, “Lorde is like Nanny McPhee, never showing up when you WANT her but showing up when you NEED her.”

For the Wellesley student determined to have a summer fling:

Play “The Glamorous Life” by Sheila E. It’s fun! It was written by Prince! She’s a drummer! The song is nine minutes long and is major for every single second. Play it while doing your makeup, while driving at exactly the speed limit–for legal reasons–or while riding the subway and being mysterious. Everyone wants you. The person you want definitely wants you. And, who knows? You might just find yourself falling in love.

For the Wellesley student getting beaten down by tariffs:

Eggs are four billion U.S. dollars and the minimum wage in your home state is still the exact same. Get in your car and play Gang of Four’s “Natural’s Not In It.” Or not. Gas is really expensive. What to do for pleasure? This song is featured in Sofia Coppola’s “Marie Antoinette” and if we have to be living in an ancién regime-coded era, it might as well be directed by the very best Coppola.

For the Wellesley student who didn’t get into any summer internships:

Play “Fire with Fire” by AlicebanD. You’re trying to find a purpose in your life right now and so is she. There is somebody else who’s clearly to blame, but is it your professors, politicians, or parents? Who knows? Spend your time dreaming and imagining hypothetical scenarios with your friend who lives way too far away.

For the Wellesley student replacing their smartphone with a flip phone:

Have you told your friends that you’re deleting Instagram again? Did you send a reel 24 hours later? If so, this summer it might be time to reconnect with nature. Hear a child’s laugh. Watch the sunset from a 7/11 parking lot as you plan your big move to Montana. Since you won’t have Spotify, go buy Jim Croce’s “I Got A Name” record on vinyl. Plus, whenever you eventually succumb to social media temptations you can post a picture of said vinyl and appear #rustic and cultured to your followers. 

For the Wellesley student upset with the government:

Did you finally block Elon on X? Have you started googling citizenship and visa requirements for Nordic countries? Are you actively avoiding interacting with anyone from Babson? Listen to “Money Game, Pt. 2” by Ren. Yes, he is British and this song is from COVID-19, but the “unprecedented times” are still going on.

For the Wellesley student traveling abroad this summer:

I hate you. I want to trade lives. I have no interest in sharing music recommendations with you because you already have everything. In any case, play “Free Man in Paris” by Joni Mitchell. Or, at the very least, use it as the score to your Instagram post that I will be hate viewing. A little on the nose? Sure. But so is spending the summer in Europe. And you’re unfettered and alive.

What are your respective roles when it comes to writing and recording music?

Jack: “We do work very closely together when we’re writing songs, but we have very different processes and roles within the band. Charlie writes all of the music; I don’t really know any instruments or play anything. I write all of the lyrics, and most of the melodies. But the way we work is not separate. When we’re sitting down to write a song, he’ll be playing a guitar riff, I’ll be coming up with melodies. But he’ll also throw out melodies and I’ll throw out ideas for guitar even though I can’t really speak in that language. It’s a very collaborative process.”

You referred to writing music as a language — do you think this is a universal language or something that the two of you have honed together as you’ve tapped into this relationship?

Jack: “My perspective is that any other guitarist I would work with would think I’m crazy if I tried to communicate with them. I kind of tell Charlie to make things sound more like whatever vague idea I have in my head. Like, make it sound ‘brighter’ or make it sound more like a certain color or ‘bigger’ or ‘wider.’ Words that aren’t exactly the best descriptors, and yet Charlie tends to get my drift.”

Charlie: “Yeah, we’ve gotten very good at communicating with each other, and I’d say especially now that we’re in college and we have such limited time together, we’ve gotten very efficient at describing the sounds and visions that we share.”

What would you say is the thesis, the main message of this album?

Jack: “It’s an album that I poured a lot of myself and my ideas and my stories into. When we first started writing it, I think Charlie and I were very focused on writing a coming-of-age album, if you will. We were focused on that Bruce Springsteen “Born to Run” energy — escaping your hometown, growing out of your parents’ house, becoming your own person… But I also think that now that I look at it as a complete picture, I can say that it’s less about leaving a place or childhood behind, and more about leaving a version of yourself behind, and becoming happy and comfortable and proud of the new version of yourself. I guess it speaks to something larger — I hope it does.”

In terms of lyrical content, how much of it would you say is storytelling or real experiences or some combination of the two?

Jack: “I think for me, with lyricism — I would argue with any art form — there has to be a little of yourself, a little of the artist embedded in it. But I don’t think these [songs] are entirely based on real life. Sometimes I go back and listen to a song and I think to myself, ‘did I really feel like that, or is that an exaggeration of an exaggeration that has been buried by time and nostalgia and all those things?’… with a lot of [the songs], there are kernels of truth in them, but it is very much not based entirely on experiences I had. I just like telling stories. I like expanding on a single thought and saying, ‘what could that be if it was a six-minute song?’”

My favorite song on the album was “Riverbend”. It felt like the centerpiece of the album, and is notably the longest song at 11 minutes. Can you speak to the process of creating this song?

Jack: “Riverbend” is the most honest [song]…Riverbend really formed over the course of three months or so … We hit the ground running, and then every single line or riff or melody after that was just laborious. It really did feel like dragging through the mud because we cared about it. We knew we wanted to create something bigger than any of the other songs, so we set out with that goal. It really only took shape within two weeks or so, where we had been stagnant for a long time, and all of the sudden the song just came to life, lyrically for me. It felt like it clicked into place and the lyrics kind of fell out.”

Charlie: “I think pretty early on in the process we started referring to the song as ‘11 Minute’ or ‘9 Minute Song’, far before we had nine or eleven minutes worth of material. But I think since we came up with the outro part, we had this idea of this grand, long masterpiece to be on the album. This vision was there from the start.”

Now that you’ve finished this album, do you have a vision of what the future looks like for you guys?

Jack: “I can say Charlie and I are both very proud of the album and happy to have it out there. We wanna just sit with it for a minute and let people enjoy it. You know, our many adoring fans … But at the same time, we are kind of sick of talking about these nine songs, and we are itching to play something new and to create stuff and put out new material. The goal would be to not take as long on the next [album]. As far as what we wanna do with it, I think expanding musically is a big thing … It’s just about creating and creating and not looking back”

Charlie: “We’re just really looking forward to creating and doing something new with our sound. I can’t wait to see what it turns into.”

Contact the editor responsible for this story: Norah Catlin

The duo began their performance with the first track on their EP, titled “Cómo Fue.” Zenón began the piece with a saxophone solo that demonstrated his dulcet tone and wide range of dynamics, while Perdomo joined on the piano. It’s clear Zenón possesses phenomenal control over his instrument, employing highly advanced scalar manipulation — the kind that elicits admiration from instrumentalists and untrained onlookers alike. The two performers complement each other extremely well, together having established a harmonious relationship that simultaneously showcases individual talents and their shared, unique blend. Perdomo played the piano with such grace, lightly grazing the keys with dexterity, but maintaining a strong command over them. The two musicians have mastered the opposing ends of their dynamic ranges, even making seamless transitions from pianissimo to fortissimo, very soft and very loud dynamic markings. The piece left me in awe and with a single question: how creative of a mind does it take to generate so many melodic ideas from one scale?

Zenón and Perdomo moved onto a medley of songs, which of course continued the night’s theme of unimaginably creative composition. Although my favorite aspect of Zenón’s playing is his ability to gracefully prance through scales, all the while ensuring each note works perfectly, he also excels at sustaining notes. This skill may sound simple, but its employment had, in fact, caused me to look up from my notepad several times in pure astonishment. Perdomo and Zenón both integrated runs into their melodic ideas perfectly: never showy or self-indulgent, but always supplemental to the art, supplying any given portion of a piece exactly what the audience didn’t know it needed. Additionally, it’s worth noting that neither musician had any sheet music in front of them. Still, both played with such confidence and expertise that, having never heard their music before, I had no way of knowing what was being played as written or completely improvised. 

The artists played another assortment of pieces that was tender, very poignant, and just screamed “soul.” At risk of sounding like I’ve seen “La La Land” too many times, this is the kind of music that makes you appreciate jazz more. Zenón and Perdomo seemed to be in musical conversation with each other. Perdomo casually spanned half of the piano in approximately two beats and Zenón played with the tonguing and articulation every saxophonist dreams of (No, really, I will be booking a practice room after this). During “En La Soledad,” a dreamy, whirring piano introduction led to a controlled chaos in the middle portion of the piece. By the conclusion of the piece, urgency gave way to tranquility, all while maintaining the same passion that defined the night. The concert ended with “Silencio,” a groovy piece with a lively, fanciful feel and a funky time signature — boy, did this piece make me wish I paid more attention in MUS 220!

In between pieces, Zenón thanked the audience for “supporting live music,” and I couldn’t agree more. These kinds of concerts are what keeps music alive, as it’s not just notes on a page, or a song downloaded to a phone, but an experience with palpable energy shared among everyone in the room. Being able to visually see the music flowing through artists is rare, but I can say without a doubt that I saw it in Miguel Zenón and Luis Perdomo.

The 75-person choir filed out onto the risers in their rich, purple velvet robes, which the audience would soon learn are a visual reflection of their polished and professional sound. The concert began with the first portion titled, “We Sing of Praise and Supplication.” I was immediately struck by the choir’s uniformity in their pronounced constants and dynamic range all while holding hands and swaying in rhythm. Each section contributed a unique sound: the basses had a round warmth, the tenors a sweet and bright sound, and the altos a rich, resonant depth. As an alto at heart, I typically listen for the inner harmonies, but I was stunned by the sopranos’ ability to land on their high notes with ease and remarkable intonation, never overbearingly or shrilly, but with a supreme blend and dolce resonance. The alto section balanced out the sopranos well, adding warmth to their vibrancy, while the tenors and basses grounded the sound with tenor harmonies and bass pedal notes. The choir tackled suspensions and dissonance effortlessly, proof of their hard work and scrupulous rehearsing.

The second segment, “We Sing of Birth, Peace, and Grace,” included “The Lord is the Everlasting God,” by Kenneth Jennings, which the choir executed perfectly and with great intonation, even despite the crunchy chords and tritones. They followed that with what became my favorite piece of the night, “This House of Peace,” by Ralph M. Johnson. This piece featured oboe soloist Lily Mitzel ’24, who exhibited a clear and beautiful tone with impressive pitch accuracy on such a demanding instrument. The soprano and tenor soloists told the story of the piece brilliantly and commanded the attention of the audience with the soprano’s graceful high register, and the tenor’s rich vibrato. This piece would not be what it was without the contribution of the orchestra, specifically the crisp pizzicato by the violas, cello and bass. The ensemble ended the first half of the program with F. Melius Christiansen’s energetic and hopeful arrangement of “O Day Full of Grace.”

In the second half of the concert, “We Sing of Consolation and Hope” began as brightly as the first half ended, with cheerful choreography and percussion in “Isondo Liyajika” by Sabelo Mthembu. I was astonished by violist Charles Gray in “Before I Go My Way,” during which his precision and passion brought the entire chapel to a stillness, filled with only the steady vibrato of the viola and the gentle entrances from the choir which never overpowered the soloist’s voice. Following this, “Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi” reintroduced Lily Mitzel for a duet solo with Phoebe Joy ’24, accompanied by Leif Olsen ’27, who supported both the soloists and choir beautifully. The third segment ended with “For the Sake of our Children,” accompanied by Julian Colville ’25 and student percussionists, during which the tenor section shone with their poignant, strong singing.

The concert’s final song,  “We Sing of Joy, Compassion, and Unity,” was an uplifting conclusion to the night. Armstrong claimed he wants St. Olaf’s music to “transform those who perform and those who will hear the message.” Consisting of a lively spiritual with vivacious choreography, and a piece with a touching message on fading memories, this segment fully achieved  Armstrong’s expressed intention: a message of hope and light in dark times. 

Contact the editors responsible for this article: Norah Catlin and Ivy Buck 

It is no secret that this is a dark time politically for many people in our country. The lives of marginalized communities are increasingly at risk, with fundamental rights constantly being threatened. In just the first few weeks of the Trump administration, executive orders have been put forth aimed at trans erasure, anti-DEI policies, immigration restrictions, an NIH funding freeze, and revoking environmental regulations among many other barbaric and hate-filled policies.

Our democracy is at stake and, from the consensus of my peers, it has been easy to lose sight of hope. Even so, I remain optimistic because things often get worse before they get better. Just like the namesake of our country, we need to be people united. This is why Lamar’s halftime show could not have come at a better time with its powerful symbolic commentary.

As an homage to the Black community, Lamar’s performance featured Black dancers dressed in our nation’s colors of red, white and blue to demonstrate the essential contributions of Black Americans to the formation of our country. Politically-charged declarations such as dancers forming the American flag and Samuel L. Jackson portraying a disruptive Uncle Sam, a popular symbol of American nationalist ideals, added a satirical element about the true values of patriotism.

In a mockery of white supremacy, “Uncle Sam” could be heard yelling at Kendrick’s performance, “Too loud, too reckless, too ghetto.” These descriptions have often been used by racist commentators to marginalize the Black community and to “put them in their place” implying a level of inferiority in the social order. The choice of Jackson to play this character was purposefully ironic as Jackson himself has been an outspoken political activist for the Black community. 

In an attempt to demonstrate the metaphorical nature of a video game, each of the performance stages was shaped like a different button of a PlayStation controller. While this had thematic elements alluding to Kendrick’s own life, it also served as a personification of the “American Dream” where people’s lives have been, in actuality, controlled by the rich and powerful. Lamar, Art Director Shelley Rodgers, Creative Director Mike Carson, Director Dave Free, and the rest of the production team used creative storytelling to evoke emotions of critique and resilience. The Black Buick Grand National Experimental (GNX), a dream car for Lamar, signifies his journey from Compton. 

Serena Williams, one of the greatest tennis players of all time, was highlighted on stage doing a “Crip walk” which she has been criticized for doing as a celebratory dance after tennis matches by referees. While the dance was certainly an illustration of how Black expression has been previously shut down in mainstream media, her presence, as a previous romantic interest of Drake, was one allusion  to Lamar’s famous “beef” with the rapper, along with his chart-topping diss track “Not Like Us.” Lamar’s halftime show masterfully wove a bold critique of Drake, as Lamar used his Pulitzer-Prize-winning lyrical prowess to produce bold sociopolitical commentary.

Some have even argued that Lamar’s performance was directly aimed at current US President Donald Trump. Kendrick’s opening line proclaims, “The revolution is about to be televised; You picked the right time but the wrong guy.” This remark seemingly alludes to the 2024 election year having been the right time for social change and progress but that Americans chose to elect the wrong candidate for the job. 

Perhaps one of my favorite moments of the performance was when singer-songwriter SZA joined Lamar onstage to perform their hit collaborations “All the Stars” and “Luther.” The song “All the Stars” is nostalgic for me as it came out when I was a high school student obsessed with Marvel movies like the one it was released for, “Black Panther.” Yet, SZA’s appearance goes deeper as an expression of a successful Black artist within feminist spaces. Her inclusion on the stage stands as a testament to the progress that can be made when gender equality and empowerment are prioritized in the entertainment industry. 

As an impactful conclusion to the halftime show, Kendrick Lamar repeated a call to action to viewers saying “Turn this TV off.” I viewed this as him telling the audience not to give up after losing hope, but to stay motivated and take action. In a final closing, the words “Game Over” illuminated the New Orleans Stadium as the crowd erupted into cheers. There have been many interpretations of these final words. Some believe these words mean that Kendrick is pointing out that he has ended the beef with Drake, while others believe that, like the Super Bowl being a football game, Lamar was just ending his show as a game being over.

With all of his metaphorical genius, I believe that Lamar was using the words “Game Over” as a powerful conclusion to tell his audience that if they are not motivated, and the rich and powerful will continue to maintain control of the narrative, then it will be game over for all of us. And while I am certainly optimistic about the future of our great nation, I have to agree with Lamar’s nuanced sentiments.

Despite intermittent reminders to donate, this year’s Grammy Awards still delivered on its promise to be the industry’s biggest night of the year. In arguably the biggest story of the night, Beyoncé finally won Album of the Year for “Cowboy Carter” after enduring countless snubs throughout her two-decade solo career. She also took home the award for Best Country Album, making history as the first Black woman to win in any country category since the Pointer Sisters in 1974. Adding these wins to the tally, she remains the most-awarded artist in Grammys history with an astonishing 35 awards. 

Doechii’s acceptance of the Best Rap Album Award for “Alligator Bites Never Heal,” which Pitchfork described as “reprising her playful and melodic sides without skimping on hard-hitting hip-hop,” cemented her place in history as only the third woman to win the award. Her heartfelt speech spoke to Black women and girls watching at home: “Don’t allow anybody to project any stereotypes on you that tell you that you can’t be here, that you’re too dark or that you’re not smart enough or that you’re too dramatic or you’re too loud. You are exactly who you need to be, to be right where you are and I’m a testimony.”

Another powerful acceptance speech was Chappell Roan’s, who implored major labels to offer artists a livable wage and healthcare after she was awarded Best New Artist. Following a flamboyant, rodeo-clown-inspired performance of “Pink Pony Club,” the very song that Roan’s former label Atlantic Records discouraged the release of, she shared her experience of being dropped by her former label and struggling with her mental health. “Labels,” she said, “we got you, but do you got us?” 

The biggest loser of the night was Drake, who wasn’t even in attendance. Kendrick Lamar’s “Not Like Us,” the diss track destroying Drake’s reputation and dominating pop culture since its release in May, became the most awarded rap song in Grammys history by sweeping five categories on Sunday, most notably Record of the Year and Song of the Year. If rumors are true, this No. 1 smash hit will be featured when Lamar headlines the Super Bowl Halftime Show in New Orleans later this week.

Contact the editor responsible for this article: Anabelle Meyers

The show marked the start of their nationwide tour opening for Porches, whose most recent album features vocals from Chloe. sweet93’s music is a dreamy blend of swirling reverb, lullaby-esque melodies and early-90s influences like Cocteau Twins and Mazzy Star. 

The day before the show, I sat down with Chloe to learn more about the behind-the-scenes of making the new single. “It transformed, like, three separate times. I’m talking verse, melody, chords – it shape shifted. I found myself just being pulled to this more ethereal space honestly, and just wanting those sounds,” said Chloe.

As its title suggests, the song asks existential questions about reality and the world around you. “I really was just questioning everything– personal truth, universal truths…  I realized I just wanted to ask the questions that I myself have been really wondering lately, and just genuinely what is ‘truth’?”

I wondered whether she felt that writing and recording the song had given her any answers. “Yes and no,” she replied. She explained that the song allowed her to put the questions into music and let that speak for itself. “I’m just trying to describe that feeling – you don’t know what to say, you don’t know how to say it… [writing the song] didn’t give me the answers of life in a bigger way, but it gave me the answers as a songwriter, as an artist.”

Kohanski takes great joy in the artistic process, no matter how long it takes. “I love creating music, writing music. I love those moments where you break through and you finally get that art or that thing or whatever, even if it takes three months – like with my song ‘Be My Best’.” 

She explained that although the lyrics to the song took less than half an hour to write, the process of mixing it took place over the course of two years. Others may have found this frustrating or excessively arduous, but for Chloe, it was an “awesome” experience. 

On the eve of sweet93’s first tour, Chloe expressed her excitement for the upcoming experience. “There is literally nothing like being in a room with people who are there to really experience music and really be a part of a night of a show. It’s communal. There’s an exchange of energy. It feels special. Every time I play, afterwards I’m like ‘This is my destiny.’ This is what I love.”

As sweet93 took the stage at The Sinclair on Oct. 15, Chloe’s passion for performance was evident. Her set had the audience under a trance which held until the end of their final song. Joined by her band, a revolving cast of friends and collaborators, Chloe serenaded the crowd with “what’s true?” and their most popular song “Stars Above,” an ethereally haunting track featuring echoing vocals and bluesy, note-bending guitar. 

sweet93 concluded their set with “You Decide,” a heavier, reverb-drenched tune reminiscent of the golden days of shoegaze. According to Chloe, this song is the band’s favorite to play live. “I hope people feel like they can just like, rock out to it, close their eyes and just feel it,” she said. Indeed, this track appeared to be a crowd favorite, with even the stiffest of flannel-clad men (a demographic stunningly overrepresented in the crowd) gently bopping their heads in appreciation. 

Shortly after their performance, an older gentleman in attendance excitedly emerged from the restroom wearing a brand-new sweet93 t-shirt, his original shirt stuffed into his back pocket. He proudly showed off his look to Chloe at the merch table, who beamed from ear to ear and gave her new fan a big hug. The heartwarming moment perfectly captured the magnetic appeal of sweet93 –– their timeless, nostalgic sound resonates with fans across demographics.

sweet93’s tour with Porches will continue across the United States through the end of November. Whether you’re drawn to moody, atmospheric sounds or just love a great live show, don’t miss your chance to catch them on stage!

Contact the editors responsible for this article: Ivy Buck, Norah Catlin

On Oct. 19, fall foliage illuminated the stage where Dunbar and opener Christian Inman performed for Wellesley’s student body. Even though I was unfamiliar with his music, by the end of the afternoon, Isaac Dunbar had become my new favorite artist. Many of his songs resonated with Wellesley students, especially tracks which dealt with themes of queer joy and illusory love like “makeup drawer,” and “Fool’s Paradise.”

Throughout the night, Dunbar repeatedly asked Wellesley students to “shake ass” before performing upbeat disco pop songs. His strong stage presence and confidence created an energetic crowd –– it’s clear that he was born to be a performer. 

Although most of his songs were upbeat dance songs like “I Love To Dance,” his set list also featured more intimate, acoustic-driven songs like “diamonds are a girl’s best friend” and an 80s inspired Queen-esque ballad “American High.” Dunbar’s songs embody the strong sense of self every queer person should aspire to have, and they capture the relatable and playful wittiness of our generation. 

Dunbar already has four albums to his name at just 21 years old. His music has been described as a blend of alternative, indie and dance-pop, with a strong disco influence. Dunbar’s songs have infectious hooks, melodies and production –– with a beautiful, smooth voice to match. 

Dunbar’s rise to indie-prominence has been spectacular to watch, and I can’t wait to see where his music career goes next. Thanks to Dunbar, Wellesley got a much needed reprieve from midterm anxieties.

Contact the editors responsible for this story: Norah Catlin, Anabelle Meyers

Hailing from Louisiana, Leigh takes pride in her southern roots and her tendency to wear her heart on her sleeve. In the song “Party Trick” off her recently-released debut album Carrier Pigeon, she muses that “maybe I’m too forward/but then again I’m not.” Two tracks later, on “No Doubt,” she admits that “I’m not too good at being subtle or acting unimpressed.” However, it is these very qualities that make Leigh shine as a songwriter and performer. 

Radical authenticity has been at the forefront of Leigh’s music since she released her first single in 2021. Her sound has evolved significantly since then, but the honesty at the core of it all has remained unchanged. Leigh describes her first two EPs, “How Did It Seem To You?” and “The Only Thing Worse Than A Woman Who Lies Is A Girl Who’ll Tell Truths” as being “two sides of the same coin.”

“I feel like ‘How Did It Seem To You’ is very much the confusion and the sadness and the mourning of a relationship, and then ‘The Only Thing Worse’ is the anger and the understanding and the processing that comes after that. And then Carrier Pigeon is just a whole new start, a fresh new world.”

Aside from length, the main difference between Carrier Pigeon and Leigh’s first two projects is that the new album is markedly more upbeat and filled-out than the two previous EPs, which lean more acoustic. This shift doesn’t daunt Leigh, who told me that she feels no pressure to stick with the familiar sound her audience has grown accustomed to hearing from her.

“At the end of the day, I don’t know what my audience is hearing … What I know is that when I have trusted my gut, it has resonated with people. And what I know is that if I keep my songs honest, that is what has worked. I’m never trying to make a new sound, or be more exciting or go back to acoustic. I’m just writing the songs that resonate with me and just trusting that it’ll resonate with others.”

Speaking of her fanbase, Leigh emphasizes that she doesn’t want anyone to feel “left behind” as she ventures into this new era. She understands that her audience isn’t obliged to support and listen to her indefinitely, but hopes that they’ll see “the honesty that’s still there amongst the multiple guitars and the drums and the bass. I just trust that they will still hear whatever it is that they loved about my music.” 

The more Leigh divulged, the more apparent it became that the honesty in Leigh’s writing is not just a quirk or a stylistic choice, but the driving force behind the very essence of her work, breathing life into each of her songs. I asked her if she ever feels shy or embarrassed spilling her guts onstage to hundreds of strangers, and she responded that it’s something she’s grown accustomed to.

“It used to really bother me. It used to make me really nervous, but I’ve done it so many times now that I just go full force. I saw a quote the other day, something along the lines of, ‘as a performer, you’re being paid to embarrass yourself.’ You’re being paid to do the thing that the people in the audience feel they can’t do, and I think that that’s so true and so freeing. I mean, look, everyone thinks they want to see a normal girl on stage. Everyone thinks they want to see someone be 100% authentic, but then when you see that, it’s really uncomfortable. So in this twisted way, honesty becomes performance. And I’ve really come to terms with that.”

Leigh’s artistic integrity seems to stem at least in part from her refusal to let herself be reduced or restricted by a “twangy granola indie folk musician” label.  She encourages listeners not to make assumptions based on where she’s from or the music she’s made in the past. She told me that while her folk influences come from her upbringing in Louisiana, she wants to emphasize how diverse the deep South (and the music it produces) is. Fellow Louisiana-native musicians like Tim McGraw had just as much of an impact on her as those like Lil Wayne.

“I’m not granola. I hate the outdoors. I hate hiking. I’m allergic to the sun. If I get a sunburn, I throw up. Really, so allergic to the outdoors. I don’t live this ‘granola life’. And if you only liked my music for this aesthetic and this projection you put on to Odie Leigh, then I don’t think you were ever really listening. If all you got from my music was the acoustic guitar, then you weren’t actually listening … the lyrics to ‘Crop Circles’ [2022] are, like, edgy and crunchy and kind of punk. So of course, it would make sense that this is the music I make now, now that I have more resources and am more confident in my own artistry.”

Sure enough, Carrier Pigeon is a culmination of everything that makes Odie Leigh great: her lyrics effortlessly combine honesty, humor, and heart. She puts an edgy twist on her signature folksy sound, and her confidence and artistry shine through in the finished product. The album is as expansive as it is cohesive, and each song is as relatable as it is deeply personal. “Party Trick” contains the lyric Leigh claims best encapsulates the album as a whole: “I don’t know you, but I’d like to.”

When asked to describe the vibe at her shows in three words, Leigh responded “quirky, fun, and sassy.” She told me “I hope that [the people at my shows] have fun. I hope that they go home and they tell their friends about how they missed an amazing show. I hope that they make everyone around them jealous.” If this sounds up your alley, be sure to grab tickets to her concert at The Sinclair in Cambridge on Sunday, Nov. 10. Take it from me – an Odie Leigh show is not one to miss.

Contact the editors responsible for this story: Norah Catlin, Anabelle Meyers