Concert Review: Faye Webster Swoons with Simple Sincerity at Stubb’s Waller Creek Amphitheater
Soothing singer-songwriter Faye Webster set a dazzling, mellow scene at Stubb’s on November 14.
Written by Janie Bickerton
Photos by Olivia Cagle
Spirits were high with palpable anticipation as a labyrinthine line slowly trickled into a sold-out Stubb’s on a comfortably cool November evening. The well-dressed crowd in muted colors awaited the celestial sound and yearning lyrics of indie darling Faye Webster that would soon grace Austin’s favorite barbecue joint turned concert venue.
Known for capturing paramount moments of falling in and out of love with blatant yet delicate lyrics, Webster surprisingly got her start in the Atlanta rap scene as a photographer. Four albums, 10 years, and one Obama shout-out later, the quiet yet powerful singer-songwriter has embarked on her long-awaited headlining North American tour since releasing I Know I’m Funny Haha to critical acclaim in 2021.
To set the genre-bending, ethereal mood for the evening, Venezuelan-American singer Maye took to the stage promptly at 8 p.m. The indie-pop artist bittersweetly bid adieu to opening for Webster with her stop in Austin, but not before she and her bassist delivered dreamy instrumentals with bossa nova flair and a flirtatious bilingual discography. Vibrant neon lights shone on Maye as she teasingly sang English and Spanish tracks, both staples of her discography and new ones soon to come. “I just want to get to know her / And make sure we end up fine,” she sang in an unreleased song that she tested with the crowd, conveying a playful level of desperation that perfectly segued into Webster’s introspective lyricism that would soon follow. Maye’s seductive sound and pining lyrics contrasted her sweet and shy disposition toward the crowd, which gave her overall performance a charming flicker of enticing artistry.
After sharing several minutes of excited chatter, the crowd cheered as a sea of smoky blue light flooded the stage and a shrill symphony submerged Stubb’s at 9:09 p.m. Amidst the blue appeared the Atlanta-hailing artist at last, who began with her 2023 single “But Not Kiss.” A simple spotlight illuminating her gray, auto shop uniform-esque outfit strobed with each biting “Yeah, yeah.”
A swooning psychedelic guitar lick launched the Obama favorite “Better Distractions” into motion as projected birds soared over an image of a wild-haired woman in an organic yet barren landscape that draped behind the singer-songwriter. The dripping desperation of Webster’s discography came in full force with her almost whimpering, repeated pleas: “Will you? Will you? Will you? Will you? / Will you, will you be with me?” More pouting, repetitive vocals ensued with “Kind Of (Type of Way),” in which Webster convinces herself she’s not the type to fall in love. She gave one last “type of way” in a crying yelp before breaking into an indie instrumental break complete with tiny jumps and subdued moments of reflection.
Webster folded over her guitar with the first note of “Right Side of My Neck” as the crowd broke out in screams and raised their phones to capture the viral hit, which conveys a message of total, spellbound love. Amidst twinkling stars projected behind her and the soft, scintillating folk sounds from her band, the singer unexpectedly went screamo for the end of the last line before a slew of repeated choruses: “You looked back at me once / But I looked back two times.”
The Southern singer’s sound, which teeters between indie and country with a hint of R&B, translated beautifully live, especially in her 2021 tracks “A Dream With a Baseball Player” and “I Know I’m Funny Haha.” The former was truly an ode to her Atlanta upbringing, as a steady R&B beat intertwined with jazzy saxophone enveloped her despairing lyric, “How could I fall in love with someone I don’t know?” That someone? Atlanta Braves outfielder Ronald Acuña Jr., whom she met at a 2019 Braves game. The encounter was, as Webster put it, “anticlimactic in the most beautiful way.” She then transitioned to the title track, which perfectly balanced her indie and country influences with a folky, sliding guitar and her staple soft, pouting intonation. Webster held the mic out for the crowd to curse her ex-lover — “But fuck him, he kept my money” — before a collaborative, sarcastic “But I know I’m funny, haha,” from the entire amphitheater.
As her stagehand helped her switch guitars, Webster plainly stated, “This is my brother Jack,” as his name flooded the image behind her in bold and encouraged “Jack! Jack!” chants from the crowd. After an extended spoken word section to the melancholic “Jonny,” more humor ensued with the next song, “Eterna City,” which she simply opened by saying, “This is a song from Pokémon.” The cute, lo-fi track saw Webster tearing up the keyboard with pixels falling behind her, eliciting the sweet yet sad feeling of nostalgia — a mixed emotion that perfectly encapsulated the fleeting emotional connections and relentless yearning found in Webster’s music.
The genre-bending songstress then brought more mellow beats with her latest single “Lifetime,” which featured a calming snow flurry projection to match the gentle repetition of “In a lifetime.” The slow, steady beat, drawn out syllables, and occasional chimes sent the crowd into a dreamy daze. Snapped back to reality at the song’s end, several more joyful “Jack” chants filled the venue as Webster prepared for her next song — an unreleased track filled with more thoughtful lyrical repetition central to the singer’s style.
The image of embers behind Webster soon turned to rain to symbolize her happy tears in “In A Good Way,” a popular track that brought about another sea of recording phones. During the ethereal violin and smooth guitar portions, Webster took to the mic to help direct a pathway for a fainted fan. She used the opportunity to ask the whole crowd how they were feeling before she returned to the first verse to conclude the meditative track about the unreal happiness of finding her equal.
A polarizing tonal shift came with “Cheers,” a sarcastic song that pierced the amphitheater with a tangible anger through lightning-like strobe lights, projected flames that licked the image of the lonesome woman behind her, high-pitched yelps from Webster, and a sharp electric guitar. As the audience reveled in the song’s scathing lyrics and sound, a radiant Webster left the stage to prepare for the encore.
“This is a really dumb song I wrote,” the indie-country-folk singer stated upon her return, prefacing a surprising vocal shift: autotune over her signature lulling keys. Before her final song, she introduced her band and welcomed one more member to the stage: a Buc-ee’s stuffed animal courtesy of a front-row fan. With one last cheer for Jack, Webster closed the show with her most-streamed song, “Kingston.” Smoky clouds set the scene as she sang of a dichotomy between the dreamy past and lonely present, letting the crowd sing its most iconic lyric: “He said, ‘baby,’ that's what he called me, ‘I love you.’” Pining over her lover, she crooned, “Baby tell me where you wanna go,” signaling it was also time for the audience to go.
Faye Webster gave a quick bow and simple, sincere “Thank you” before one last celestial flourish of her band. Her few words spoken to the Austin audience throughout the evening were all careful and heartfelt, exchanging audience engagement for an assumed sense of dedication to her craft and, in turn, to her fans. Her stage presence perfectly paralleled her music:reserved, yet giving way to sudden bursts of emotion. Her terse nature allowed the crowd to harp on her sincerity, just as her penchant for lyrical repetition lets her listeners simmer in each line’s meaning. In just over an hour, Webster transformed Stubb’s into a calming dreamscape and relinquished her Austin fans into a slightly chillier night and a stark return to reality.