It’s All Honey: Samia Live at Brooklyn Steel
The shouts of security and demands for ID hit me as I approached the doors to Brooklyn Steel. I wrapped my jacket around myself as I shivered to keep warm, but my eagerness was doing the job of distracting me from the winter air. I was ready to be back in a space of live music, and this show was one I knew would deliver.
The first time I saw Samia perform was her opening set for Minnesota-based band Hippo Campus’ 2019 Bambi tour. I, like most of the crowd, had never heard her music, but after her energetic performance of the singles she had out at the time, I was completely hooked. Her debut album, The Baby, was released in August of the next year, and my love for her storytelling only grew from there. I saw her perform again in January of 2022 at Webster Hall, and with the release of her sophomore album, Honey just a few weeks ago on January 27th, it’s safe to say that her second headline tour could not have come sooner.
We entered the venue and couldn’t believe our luck—despite only joining the line 15 minutes before the doors opened, we managed to snatch a third-row spot. Dancing to the pre-show playlist, I scoured Spotify for set lists from the shows that had already happened. I let out a sigh of relief at the confirmation of “Triptych” being in the lineup for the night. After the jittery hour between the opening of the doors and the dimming of the lights, her first opener took the stage. Wormy, a solo project of Brooklyn-based songwriter (and drummer for Samia) Noah Rauchwerk, was first up. Rauchwerk walked out energetically and had the room dancing within seconds to his upbeat music, his beaming smile lighting the crowd. My personal favorite of his set (likely because of Samia’s feature on the track) was “Hungry Ghost.” Hilariously and candidly titled I’m Sweating All the Time, his debut album was released in 2022 and is fantastically odd in its words and expressions of growing up and being in love.
Next was Tommy Lefroy. The duo, made up of Wynter Bethel and Tessa Mouzourakis, had a cool-girl persona that was quickly brought back down to earth with their vulnerability. In between ballads, the two told stories of the men attached to each song and asked the crowd to do the same: “Who here has ever gotten their heart broken?”
The two left the stage, and we were down to the anxious last 15 minutes as the crew ran on stage to switch out setlists, handing Wormy’s and Tommy Lefroy’s to shaking, extended hands. A mic stand wrapped in baby blue gauze was centered on the stage, matching the moody sapphire aesthetic of the Honey album cover. The band walked on stage, greeted by cheers, and the show began, the first lyrics to “Kill Her Freak Out” filling the room.
Of the three Samia shows I’ve seen up to this point, I can confidently say that hers are some of the most interactive and creative I’ve ever gone to. For this tour, an easel was posted at the back of the stage next to Noah’s drum set. A large drawing pad was leaning on it, and in between songs requiring their additions, members of the band snuck back to draw something unknown to the crowd. Once it was completed, they turned the easel to reveal an art piece with the venue name and date scrawled across the bottom. “We’re gonna be selling this at the merch table after the show, for charity,” Samia said.
Each song drew out one of two far-ranging reactions from the crowd: reflections and sadness or carefree jumps and spinning. For the former, the most special moment of the night was when Samia began to cry on stage in response to a fan project during “As You Are.” She brought up a close friend, saying that this was “the most sincere song” she had ever written and she “gets nervous singing it alone.” Seeming to have predicted this, two girls in the front row brought printed hearts that read “We Take You As You Are” and handed them out to surrounding fans to hold up during the song. It’s things like these that bring back to my mind the power of music to form communities.
The crowd laughed endearingly as Samia “complained” through sniffles that she now had to go into some of the most uber-depressing songs on her discography, “Breathing Song,” and—what I had been waiting for—“Triptych.” As soon as she crooned “keeping you awake, keeping you awake on purpose” into the microphone, I was reminded (for what felt like the thousandth time) of how powerful her lyrics and music are. “I’ll be good to you,” she promises. “I’m worth it,” she pleads.
After an encore of “Show Up,” with the disco ball above the stage spinning in time with the final beats of the night, the lights flickered on. I walked out of the venue, the three-hour show leaving us tired but comforted by the music. More than fun, more than exciting, it was healing.