During “The Sun is Bad,” a slower ballad from De Souza’s debut I Love My Mom, these harmonies evoked the softest sentiments as De Souza and Webb belted out the lyrics’ apologies to a crowd so entranced that it would forgive the pair in an instant. De Souza’s stage presence was undeniable, albeit with limited crowd interaction, which only made the crowd sanctify every giggle and small sign of gratitude the artist uttered.ĭe Souza’s harmonies with Webb - an impeccable individual musician during the set - brought dynamic dimension to her already texturally layered tracks. By the time De Souza introduced her band, Dexter Webb on guitar, Zack Kardon on bass and Avery Sullivan on drums, the performance felt interrupted as De Souza had already been playing for about 30 minutes.
While the crowd was kept captivated by the continuation, space between songs felt needed for everyone to catch a breath. Little to no room was left between songs, as outros faded to intros within seconds. At times sweetly saccharine, her vocals soothed and sharpened the senses.
Gasps would join the crowd’s cheers whenever De Souza abandoned her intended plans and simply wailed into her mic, hedging her band to keep up with her unabashed, and perhaps uncontrolled, expression of emotion.ĭe Souza’s range as a vocal artist took center stage, as wispy, wanting softness coated the lyrics of “Darker Than Death” then instantly escalated to a proclaiming chant during the chorus of “Die/Cry.” The complete rawness of De Souza’s vocals came through in person, much stronger than in her studio albums. Almost yodel-like in texture, this technical talent surprised the crowd as De Souza does not heavily feature it on the album.Īt times, the fluid mobility of De Souza’s vocals seemed to be beckoned from a place of inner ease, each vocal run a stream of consciousness rather than a planned delivery. Nearing the end of “Bad Dream,” De Souza began a sequence of vibrato-filled vocals that rose up and down, with one hand on the keys and the other conducting in the direction of her pitch.
De Souza’s tattoo-stamped arms graced both an elevated keyboard and her white guitar, revving up for the show.Īn extended intro to “Bad Dream,” a track off of De Souza’s sophomore album Any Shape You Take, started the night off with crooning vocals and a punctuated drum beat. Flanked on either side by a bassist and guitarist in Carhartt overalls and white t-shirts, De Souza looked like a Madonna-on-the-rocks of sorts, the triangular composition capitulating on her figure - clad in a Tupac Shakur graphic tee and donning mini-buns haloed in purple scrunchies. When it was time for Spruce Pine-borne artist Indigo De Souza to take the stage, however, a spotlight beamed on center stage and the entire crowd flocked in awe.
INDIGO DE SOUZA BAND TV
People milled around San Francisco’s Bottom of the Hill, floating between an outdoor courtyard and the space in front of the stage, with a few drawn like moths to the blurred glow of a tiny TV screen above the bar showing Monday night’s baseball game. Green velvet curtains hung haphazardly from ceiling beams, absorbing the murmurs that arose from a small crowd.
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