Concert review: Soccer Mommy at The Orange Peel
Multicolored lights emanating from hollowed-out CRTVs flank the stage. A backdrop curtain laid out in perfect vertical strips changes hues from the overheads. An array of retro guitars scattered throughout.
The aesthetics of the set-up alone are enough to throw one’s spirit back to the indie rock boom of the early ’90s, and accompanied by the assured and singular music of Soccer Mommy, it's nothing short of exhilarating.
Born Sophia Regina Allison, and only three years old when the aforementioned decade of grunge ended, Soccer Mommy wears her vintage Fenders with pride. When the band opened the show by blasting into the first two numbers of her latest LP, Color Theory (2020), I half expected a full-on mosh pit to form amongst the patrons of The Orange Peel this past Saturday, March 19. That energy was sustained through most of the numbers, reaching fever pitch halfway through the set with “crawling in my skin” and a chaotic freakout that would make any shoegaze band blush.
Speaking of those roots, the Nashville-based singer/songwriter paid tribute to her influences with a gorgeous cover of the seminal Slowdive song “Dagger,” her band retreating to the wings to leave her almost unbearably vulnerable as she stood alone on stage, her guitar the only companion to remain. It was also during this solo stretch that her fellow bandmates Julian Powell (guitar) and Rodrigo Avendano (guitar/keyboards) briefly returned in accompaniment on the atmospheric “night swimming,” highlighting the textural qualities that underpin the dreamscapes that Soccer Mommy’s compositions inherently capture and expel.
“Is there anyone here named Henry?”Allison queried in semi-jest before leading into the eponymous track. Both this and an introduction for her bandmates (which included the fiery rhythm section of bassist Nick Wiedner and drummer Rollum Haas) were among the handful of times she spoke — not necessarily out of shyness, but more so as a form of palate cleanser for her songs’ emotional intensity.
That rawness warrants comparisons to the confessional alt-rock royalty of Liz Phair and Sleater-Kinney, while her barrage of noise amongst crystal-clear melodies call to mind the best of My Bloody Valentine.
And as apt as these correlations are, this is an artist who has clearly etched out her own wonderful niche. One need only revel in the audience’s enthusiasm at both the debuting of a new song (“Shotgun”) and the decision to conclude the set with two fan favorites (“Your Dog” and “Scorpio Rising”) to feel assured of her creative prowess and confident about Soccer Mommy’s future.
(Photo: Brian Ziff)
