After a day full of rain and frigid, fall air, the clouds momentarily parted for me to make my way into San Francisco to see Kate Bollinger at The Independent this past Thursday, November 21st. Marking the second to last show on their tour, Bollinger cultivated an intimate atmosphere, entrancing the crowd with her warm, breathy vocals. Both Bollinger and her band were clearly having a blast onstage, telling riddles, recounting their day in the city, listing their goals for the show, and even taking song requests at the end of the night.
I made my way into the city all by my lonesome, with only one wrong bus and two missed connections, just in time to catch the second half of Bollinger’s opener, Pregnant. From what I saw of their set, Pregnant’s music was full of synths paired with enchanting guitar riffs and steady drums. Some of their tracks featured compelling moments of dissonance, almost as if the band was racing against their own tempo, only to be resolved by their percussion–– the band’s driving force. Their performance, was both entertaining and musically dynamic, featuring seamless pedal work, a unique vocal tone from the lead singer, and the guitarist alternating between sinking to the floor of the stage and energetically running in place. Unfortunately, for much of the crowd, Pregnant’s set was merely background music amidst eager conversation and purchases of drinks from the bar.
In the interim period before Bollinger went on, I took some time to explore the venue, weaving my way through couples and friend groups–– some nursing cocktails and others discreetly hitting their vapes. By the time the band took the stage, the crowd had nearly doubled in size, and the stage was bathed in violet light as they poised to start. The night was full of comedic quips from Bollinger and her bandmates, from the very start; within the first song of the set, the drumset’s kick pedal broke, to which Bollinger declared, “The show must go on!” As she began the second song, “To Your Own Devices,” the crowd was hushed, devoting their whole attention to the soft, dreamy performance.
Yet, if it weren’t for this captivated audience, I’m not sure if we would have been able to enjoy Bollinger’s whispered song, supplemented by soft backing vocals from the drummer and lead guitarist. At some points, the only thing to break the silence was her timid “thank you,” as the crowd was settled in still anticipation–– only to be broken by a sea of head bobs in time to the music. One of the show’s highlights was when she performed “Running,” beginning with a powerful stripped intro of just the singer and her guitar, asserting her spellbinding vocal control that’s only made more powerful by her band. Much of the show was devoted to playing songs from her new album, Songs From a Thousand Frames of Mind, while she also made room for a few covers and some older, fan-favorites.
Some of the more notable moments of the show include the live guitar solo in “Pictures of You,” a seamless transition from “I See It Now” into “Sweet Devil,” and audience participation during her cover of Margo Guryan’s “What Can I Give You.” The first of her covers, however, “Only You (and You Alone)” by The Platters, was a sweet love song made infinitely sweeter by her honeyed vocals and a verse sung by her drummer. By the time it came to her Guryan cover, she called up members of the audience to accompany her with kazoo and backup dancing, producing a feeling of infectious joy throughout the room. She ended the show with “Any Day Now,” one of my favorite tracks off of her new album, and the crowd could not stand still.
The evening was filled with little declarations of love and affection, whether it be a friend twirling another in the pit, the crew high-fiving amidst the set up, and fleeting embraces paired with quick pecks. Although I was alone, scribbling details into my pocket-sized, red, leather notebook, I didn’t feel lonely because I was being offered a glimpse into Bollinger’s soul. I ended up getting a little lost on my way home, and missed the last buses running in Berkeley, but as I walked the streets of Rockridge back to my apartment, Bollinger’s ethereal music remained fixed in my mind.
Review by Elena Levin
Photo by Gilles O’Kane
