Concert Review: Odie Leigh and June Henry Send a Love Letter to Austin at Historic Scoot Inn.

Odie Leigh, a rising folk artist, played a heartwarming concert at the Historic Scoot Inn with opener June Henry on Sept. 20. 

Written By Rachel Joy Thomas

Photos by Ava Snoozy 

Odie Leigh has seen a meteoric rise to the top of the folk food chain in recent months. Popularized by songs like “Nine Lives,” and “A Month Or Two,” the Louisiana-native has taken an unconventional but equally successful pathway to immense fame. Originally gaining traction on the social media platform TikTok, Leigh transitioned to her first tour with only a guitar and her emotive lyrics. Now on her second swing across the United States, Leigh has gained even more support, now sporting a band to perform new tracks off her first full-length album, Carrier Pigeon. 

Before Leigh came on at Scoot Inn, however, opener June Henry took the stage. The freak-folk artist came on at 8:01 p.m., with just an acoustic guitar, ready to play an oddly specific curated setlist of short, snappy songs. Most tracks ran only a minute in length with humorous track titles, only to unveil tangibly heartbroken lyricism. Henry’s splintering vocals turned fast and wild for tracks like “vampire song,” an impromptu addition to the setlist based on a heartwarming story about a young couple who had asked each other to prom. 

“I’ve become a machine that turns my pain into money, because I’d be feeling it anyway. I may as well get those 3/10 of a penny per stream,” Henry concluded at one point during her opening act, before singing a scathing recount of a relationship gone sour. 

Before concluding her section of the show, Henry encouraged the crowd to be happy and hopeful, thanking Odie Leigh for having her and playing the track, “Rituals,” a softer ballad-like song which continued the devastating ambience. 

At around 9:16 p.m., Odie Leigh approached the stage confidently, wearing a red skirt to match the Tahiti red electric guitar she nonchalantly held. The crowd roared as she approached the microphone and strummed the guitar. Her newly formed band — Grace Goodman (drums), Kaitlyn Gerdau (bass), and Taylor Wafford (guitar) — took to the stage alongside her. 

Goodman sounded the track in with eight quick taps of her drumsticks. Leigh sang with a smile as the audience caught onto the song and sang along to  the first song of the night, “My Name on a T-Shirt.” Goodman steadily battered the bass drum, which featured masking tape that spelt out Odie Leigh’s name, while Gerdau and Wafford offered soft backing vocals. 

“Thank you so much for being here with me tonight on a beautiful Friday night. And on the count of three I would love to know your name.” 

Fans screamed their names to Leigh, who smiled at the audience while bathing in the stagelight. She asked concertgoers by the bar in the back to scream out, but they were quieter than those at the front who were waiting for her voice to ring out again in the venue. 

The next song, “No Doubt,” caused an equally excited stir from the crowd. Leigh’s inflection as she sang, “I want everything / give me everything,” ballooned the crowd’s enthusiasm as they reached out toward the folk singer. Fans at the barricade occasionally screamed adoring words and heartfelt messages. 

Early into the performance, Leigh set away her Gretsch Electromatic Double Jet in favor of a six-string guitar, forgoing some of the larger-than-life qualities of a band for a subdued performance. At times, she would switch between the two guitars, often bringing out the electric for songs from her album Carrier Pigeon, switching to her acoustic when a song needed a more home-y touch. 

“A Month Or Two” came with the delicate plucking of strings and soft faraway harmonies. Leigh sang with a quiet, knowing whisper, melting the rest of the world away. Soft guitar and bass replaced aching strings, making the venue vibrate with the soft, faint composition. The song still flowed with adamant heartbreak; As Leigh sang, “Give it some time / time / time / time,” like a lullaby, the audience listened quietly, rocking to the folk artist’s oscillating command. 

Following that performance came the equally heartfelt “Nine Lives.” Leigh played one beginning note before pausing to speak to the crowd, mentioning a bracelet her grandmother gave her in Houston just a day before. A fan quipped, “ I have a bracelet for you,” throwing it toward Leigh who graciously accepted the trinket. 

Accompanied by the occasional, soft melting sound of cymbals and a bass drum, Leigh’s vocals cascaded through the venue. The softer, watery “Either Way” rang out: “Do you wanna know me / do you wanna know me like I wanna know you?” During “Crop Circles,” trains bellowed throughout the venue. The machines’ chiming call almost matched the band’s tempo as they played the enigmatic, popular ode about running hands through worn carpet.

Leigh introduced one unreleased song that was “recorded but will probably never come out.” The singer-songwriter described her experience baking in the sun during festivals and struggling with migraines. With bountiful fingerstyle strumming, the folk performer transitioned back toward her 6-string guitar, reinvigorating the crowd with the brassy, metallic sound of its strings. 

Before transitioning toward the show’s finale, Leigh urged the audience to leave letters for her to stamp and mail across the country and thanked the audience again for coming out. 

“Conversation Starter” incorporated background vocals for cheerleader chanting. Leigh instructed the crowd to repeat a vocal hymn as the drummer played a hypnotic snare beat. It took two tries to get the crowd to sing; a bemused Leigh said, “You’re not singing,” before roping the crowd into another take on the more pop-centric track. At the end of the chant, Leigh instructed her adoring fans to scream “as loud as (they) could,” leading to a rapturous sound bursting through the venue. 

Finishing out the song, Leigh cattily cried, “Do you want me?” before repeating into the mic, “Austin, do you want me?” Woffard virtuosically added inflected surfer strings, adding onto an already cooled rhythm. A snare and crisp hi-hat segued into the chorus, jolting fans into the bulk of the song. Woffard and Gerdau sang backing vocals to Leigh’s rich warble. Closing off the last official song of the night, Leigh smiled and waved before stepping off stage. 

It wasn’t long before she was returning to sing at least one more song. Fans eagerly shouted “encore!” and Leigh came back onstage, slyly smiling at the fact that she was tugged back. Wanting to keep the spirit of the concert alive, the folk-singer decided the last song would be yet another call-and-response. She instructed, “I’m gonna teach you a song. The ending goes like this:” before singing some of a track from her early career, “Take Back.” 

“I would love, if not only you just joined me and sang with me, but also if you would use this moment tonight together to reclaim any time that’s been stolen from you, from whoever or whatever has taken it,” Leigh told the audience, before gently playing the guitar and starting the song. 

Fans followed her beck and whim, singing about the various circumstances in their own lives while looking out at Leigh. “I’m gonna take back some of my time / I’m gonna take back some of my time / I’m gonna take back, take back,” the crowd echoed, calming down after the climatic “Bad At Conversations.” Finally, Leigh and the crowd closed out the song and the night together, enthusiastically singing the song like a promise. 

Leigh’s performance at Historic Scoot left little stone unturned, performing songs from her early debut and calling toward her future. Capturing the crowd, the folk-artist truly created a dynamic, unique audience experience imbued with yearning, akin to her special sticker stamps for her shows and the feeling of a heartwarming message in the mail. Leigh, in that regard, sent something beautiful to Austin at Historic Scoot Inn that night.