REVIEW: Soccer Mommy entrances albany with a cathartic performance
01/31/25 @ The Egg, Albany
All photos by Debi Gustafson
“After a challenging, icy week, it was a relief to be in this space where all we had to do was listen to familiar songs made new again…”
While the snow and freezing rain poured onto the streets this past Friday, indie rock fans poured into the doors of The Egg in downtown Albany, braving the weather for the chance to see Nashville native, Soccer Mommy.
As the crowd settled in, opener L’Rain rocked the stage with their experimental sound. The sound was psychedelic, the high-pitched strings sending out long notes that flowed into each other while the cymbal-heavy drums added some rigidity to the mix. Taja Cheek’s vocals gave the band a grounded center, giving the melody something to swirl around and into as the audience took it all in.
Finally, around 9:30, Soccer Mommy took the stage in front of a soft, pastoral backdrop, surrounded by fake leafy plants that had been modified into stage lights, all matching the flowers on the cover of her latest record, Evergreen. They kicked off the show with a single from that record, “Abigail,” which lead singer Sophie Allison had previously declared was about her character on the video game Stardew Valley. In hearing it live, I realized how much the drums drove the track, a feature she has been harkening back to on her last two records after moving away from it with 2020’s color theory.
Luckily for long-time Soccer Mommy fans, the group played selections from many of their different eras (although not “indie rokkers” or “rom com 2004,” despite my fervent hoping). We were treated to songs like “circle the drain” and “crawling in my skin” off of color theory, “Shotgun” and “Bones” off of 2022’s Sometimes, Forever and, of course, “Cool” and “Your Dog” off of 2018’s Clean.
The band deftly navigated between the different variations of indie they’ve produced over the years, softening or adding grit when needed. For “circle the drain,” looping pedals were used to add the sounds of water bubbling to the surface that back the chorus—a sound effect that adds a certain levity and release to an otherwise depressing (but cathartic) song. During “Driver,” Allison showed off her electric skills, hitting those pulsing riffs that gave an edge to her otherwise soft vocals. The lights began to flash on the audience, showing bobbing heads and swaying bodies, ensconced in the music.
And between the songs, Allison was careful not to break the spell. Her shy, brief banter was perfect, keeping listeners in the trance while still reaching out a metaphorical hand. “You’re a great crowd,” she quietly began at one point, pausing for effect before adding, “you’re more than great…you’re egg-cellent,” with a small smile. After a challenging, icy week, it was a relief to be in this space where all we had to do was listen to familiar songs made new again, experiencing the joy of that unique, yet shared experience.
Towards the end of the night, Allison slowed things down with “Lost,” softly and mournfully singing the refrain, “Lost in a way that don’t make sense, lost in a way that never ends…” While we may have all been lost within our own worlds in that moment, her melancholic voice strung the whole room together. The string that tied the crowd together became even stronger when cheers erupted at the sound of “crawling in my skin,” the rising and falling guitar melody sounding even more integral to the thread of the track live.
While plenty of fans were elated with the encore, featuring “Changes” and “Don’t Ask Me,” my highlight was the first closing song, “Your Dog.” It’s one of those songs recognizable from the first three notes, causing half the audience to leap to their feet, or jump up and down if they were already standing. Allison’s voice came across the strongest it had all night, forcefully declaring, “I don’t wanna be your baby girl,” while the women in the audience sang along with the full weight of the lyric resonating within them. Even after we left, whether that was your song, or “Cool,” or “Changes”... the night resonated with us outside the theatre, sticking with us like the salt on the sidewalk.
