Audrey Hobert came up with my last tour Stairway to glory – and very successfully. Last night (December 7th) about 300 spectators in Toronto Longboat Hall witnessed this rare and magical moment right before the world realized the greatness of the artist.
Without the need for elaborate staging, Hobert's performance felt like a thesis statement, proving that she possesses the natural charm and skill that has launched the careers of so many pop stars with a capital A. Her debut single “Sue me” was only released in May with her full-length album. Who is a clown Arriving in August, however, the singer has already amassed a cult following, helped in part by writing numerous hits produced by her friend Gracie Abrams.
People camped outside the venue from 3:00 pm to 7:00 pm, a tradition usually reserved for superfans of superstars filling the arena; Tickets for Hobert's Toronto debut sold out almost instantly. While standing in line, I heard a teenage girl giggle shyly, telling her friends that it was her first time scalping.
While looking around Longboat before the show, I was curious to see who won the “ticket war,” so to speak. As you can imagine, there were crowds of pop music fanatics dressed in costumes as if it was the Eras Tour or a whole concert. Short and sweet pajama party gimmick, with at least a dozen plastic tiaras – a reference to the “But I'm wearing jeans and a crown” lyric from Bowling – sticking out from the crowd, as well as quite a few clown noses.
But the stand-dom also included middle-aged women clinging to plastic cups of wine, an emo guy in front of me texting his friend, “This girl means EVERYTHING to me,” and an esoteric, menthol-smoking, shockingly not-too-cool-for-it guy I met on Hinge years ago. It takes a special artist to bring such an eclectic room together and make everyone feel completely in sync.
Some may think that a tiny stage in a room almost on the ground floor will not allow for a theatrical spectacle – and this will not be the case. A good 45 seconds after the lights first dimmed, Hobert rose above the crowd in a seven-foot cape and Groucho glasses to sing a tongue-in-cheek song. Who is a clown opening line: “I like to touch people”, her stilt-like stature thanks to a hidden stepladder. The show was filled with these goofy moments that were reminiscent of a local theater troupe and in keeping with her 2000s girl next door sensibilities.
In almost every song, Hobert wore a new accessory over her sheer black top and jeans: a normal-sized trench coat, a skinny scarf, sheer onesies, sunglasses—you name it. “I went to the jacket store today because it's cold,” Hobert said during one of his rare moments on the show. “I didn’t come prepared, but at least I know these songs. I hope you do too.” During the bridge of “Wet hair,” the singer-songwriter also slipped into a long-winded rant about an awkward date that managed to seem both perfectly rehearsed and completely off-kilter.
The show was relatively short: an hour-long set covering all 12 songs from Hobert's single album discography. Concluding the evening, she played “Sue on Me” to deafening fanfare and, almost like an athlete, chanted the phrase: “But fucking your ex is iconic.” This was followed by the album's brilliant closing song “Silver Jubilee” and then the second song “Sue me”. Before the encore, Hobert quietly but sternly told everyone, “Put your phones away.” To my surprise, the entire crowd complied within seconds.
The energy shift in the room was palpable. For the last three minutes of the show, pop groupies, wine moms, emo boys and metrosexual men were one, all screaming and jumping, relieved to know they didn't have to worry about maintaining perfect concert memories; they already were.
This show was further confirmation that Audrey Hobert is indeed ready to be the next big thing. At the risk of sounding corny, I feel like her heart and views are a breath of fresh air in the artificial intelligence and hellscape that is the pop industry right now. It may not always be a shiny elevator rising to the top of the charts, but a spiral staircase from a former YMCA gymnasium turned concert hall.
