Welcome Home: Phoebe Bridgers Closes Out Her Tour at This Ain’t No Picnic Festival
Last weekend, I attended my first festival which happened to be “This Ain’t No Picnic” held at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, CA. My friend Ana and I arrived in the afternoon on Sunday, Aug. 28, which was the second day of the weekend long festival. After the first week of school, we were eager to throw ourselves into the arms of our favorite artists, most notably Phoebe Bridgers.
The band MICHELLE played as we entered the festival grounds at one of the four stages in the area. After watching the end of their set, Ana and I found a spot relatively close to the barricade. We got comfortable for a full day of back to back sets.
The sun beamed down on us as we listened to and enjoyed Girl Ultra, Nicki Nicole, Mdou Moctar, and Wet Leg. I was excited to see Wet Leg live and they did not disappoint, showcasing their edgy vocals and thrilling stage presence. Following them was a spry performance by Slowthai that got the crowd moving close together. The IDLES band followed suit. I personally did not know what to expect from them prior, but their performance shifted the entire crowd dynamic. The split between the patient Phoebe fans and eager IDLES fans was entirely palpable as the crowd fluctuated in a mass of head banging and various fans had to be carried out. Once their set ended, I remained pretty close to the stage at the cost of being drenched in sweat and progressively more tired.
Phoebe graced the stage nearly thirty minutes later, and every ounce of energy I had lost previously was revived. When the lights shut out, a unanimous gasp fell over the crowd as we stood there shoulder-to-shoulder in the hot – yet energetic – atmosphere. The metal-like inscription reading “Phoebe Bridgers” lit up the screen before us as the sweet hum of “Motion Sickness” rolled in over our heads. Phoebe came through a cloud of smoke, shimmering in her token skeletal dress and donning a huge smile on her face.
Phoebe had been on tour since May; so ending her travels back home in Pasadena made the performance even more special. She made the comment that she had learned how to drive in the parking lot of Rose Bowl, truly illuminating that hometown magic.
Following “Motion Sickness” was her performance of “Garden Song.” Phoebe created a storybook type of feeling here, with the background image of a book titled “Punisher” opening up to create a garden setting. The stage shimmered with ephemeral green light, highlighting her mesmerizing presence. She then kept the brighter notes of her discography going, transitioning into “Kyoto.” Phoebe swayed back and forth, strumming her guitar with a lighthearted air. Everyone around me was on their feet, jumping around and bobbing their heads.
With contrast, the energetic high we got from “Kyoto” dispersed as Phoebe moved on to her more melancholic songs, specifically her sad girl anthems “Punisher” and “Scott Street.” Cue the waterworks! “Punisher” felt like a soft whisper kissing our foreheads as her voice enveloped our full undivided attention. I was caught in a trance-like need to stay lifted by her breezy instrumentals and rosy vocals. “Scott Street,” a token of Phoebe’s 2017 music, was a captivating experience live. Phoebe was jumping around in circles playing her guitar, running down to the barricade, and put on a performance of a lifetime that left the crowd captivated. The yearning energy that came with the lyrics “Anyway don’t be a stranger” was consuming. It was one of the best performed songs that night.
“Moon song” came on and I gave up on any wish that my mascara would remain intact. I can recall countless nights listening to this song on repeat in my bedroom, but hearing it live was a surreal experience. Phoebe’s voice sounded entirely graceful, serenading us and welcoming us all to cry on her shoulders. Some of the horn-like sounds were even more reckoning and moving while performed live, carrying the song forward into the emotional bridge where we all screamed the words “You are sick, and you’re married / And you might be dying.” My friend and I kept looking at each other, in awe of the fact that this was reality and not some unbelievable dream.
Towards the end of her set, she asked for any song requests and a fan held up a sign reading “Waiting Room.” This song was sprinkled throughout her tour, so the rush of emotion and anticipation buzzed through the thousands of people there when it was chosen. She made a comment that this song was written in her childhood bedroom, acknowledging the strong sense of nostalgia in the performance. The background shifted into an image of a million stars and a spotlight shone over Phoebe. The folky acoustic guitar and wavering sounds of her voice created a pocket of somber sentiment. The lyrics “I know it’s for the better” lingered in the air as a promise.
The show closed with none other than the powerhouse, soul-stripping song “I Know The End.” I can recall hearing this song for the first time, imagining how insane it would be live. I could feel the energy build and build as Phoebe sang, entering the bridge. The horns signaled the dramatic ending that makes this song so unique. The image of the house behind her burst into flames and a mass of red lights shone down on us as Phoebe sang out “The end is here.” We all grabbed hold of each other, guttural screaming filled the atmosphere with Phoebe in one mass, cathartic release. Wet Leg came on stage to join Phoebe and smoke filled the venue, and the song resembled a spiritual experience that left a mark on the soul. When Phoebe walked off stage, I stood in disbelief of the experience of being in her presence.
We stayed in our spots after that, filled with undaunted emotions as we waited for The Strokes to come on. They too played an amazing set, garnered by Julian Casablancas’ entirely “cool” presence and amazing visuals. My first festival experience was unforgettable, allowing me to see artists I had only dreamed of watching live. Phoebe had us floating the rest of the night. We played “I Know The End” on the way home just to relive the euphoria of that moment in time. And of course, to scream at the top of our lungs.