On August 27th, a group of friends and I had the opportunity to see indie pop group Japanese Breakfast live at the Masonic in San Francisco. Led by multitalented marvel Michelle Zauner, I went in largely unfamiliar with their discography, excluding their biggest hits. Having read Zauner’s memoir Crying in H Mart in Chris Haskett’s AP Lang class last year I wanted to see for myself the hubbub surrounding this little band she had written about. Completing this reading prerequisite lifted this performance to ethereal heights, and transformed the evening into a beyond wonderful experience.
Alongside fellow students Michal Waclaweck, Aidan Tran, Dylan Tobias, Agatha Kogan, and Alyssa Lau, I eagerly awaited the night’s opener, Ginger Root, an experimental pop group whom I also had very little knowledge of. Our general admission tickets granted us access to the standing pit viewing, which, especially at the Masonic, is the best way to go for a premiere concert experience. Roughly fourteen feet away from our spot in the pit, the artists performed and interacted with the audience in engaging ways. Due to the body heat inevitably forming from the crowded space, some amicable staff members were kind enough to start passing cups of water through the crowd. This is all to say: the Masonic is an immaculate venue.
We weren’t prepared for Ginger Root. Following their performance we unanimously agreed they were blatantly phenomenal. Out of every concert I’ve had the pleasure of attending, Ginger Root runs laps around every other opening act. Incorporating a retro technology aesthetic, a variety of unusual instrumentation, kickass basslines, and—most notably perhaps—a cameraman, a key member of the band. The cameraman filmed the band live, navigating the stage with precision and responding to every change in the music. Immediately displayed on the two large screens, the footage component of their show amazed me. It’s always special when an artist comes up with brand new concepts. Listen to Ginger Root, they’re shockingly overlooked.
A profound experience, Japanese Breakfast took the stage next. Familiar with Zauner’s writing prowess, I understood the talent unfolding on stage. I didn’t initially realize how surreal it would feel to watch the author of a school homework assignment perform a pop concert. Prior knowledge on her spunky personality and the rollercoaster of her life boosted the emotional aspect of the show overall. For instance, her marriage to bandmate Peter Bradley, a major component of her memoir, shone through their adorable interactions on stage. The two seemed to visibly transfer energy and support to one another throughout the concert.
Zauner, who turns out to speak with the same mystifying charm with which she writes, took a quiet moment in the concert to proclaim her happiness for the new era she has entered. The group’s previous album, Jubilee, exuded joy and whimsy despite the lead singer’s increasing feelings of sadness. Cathartic, Zauner’s new album, For Melancholy Brunettes sets a, well, melancholic tone, ironically putting an end to her permeating feelings of sadness as she steps foot into a more honest, balanced period with her artistry.
Passionately belting out the lyrics and jumping to the beat of the band’s biggest hit “Be Sweet,” my friends and I smile ear to ear. Each of us with varying degrees of investment in the band connected over a special moment. To cap off a perfect evening, I turned eighteen as I drove my friends home, feeling reinvigorated by Ginger Root and Japanese Breakfast’s emotional and beautiful music. In a moment of nostalgia where I’d typically feel a longing for the past, I instead felt the indomitable spirit of indie pop shining on me, ready to conquer any challenge thrown my way.