Since high school (way back in 2016…don’t remind me), I’ve loved doing everyday things alone. Heading to the movies, shopping at the mall, grabbing a quick bite…sometimes, it’s nice to spend a little quality time with yourself. Old friends used to say it was odd; “why would you go alone when you could go with friends?”
Because you never know what can happen when you give yourself the chance to be completely free.
Last Wednesday, I did just that. I showed up to The Sinclair in Cambridge, tiara in hand, ready to see Audrey Hobert perform her debut album live – all by myself. I’d only been to a concert alone once before: this past April, I saw Role Model for his “No Place Like Tour” at MGM Fenway, and made some amazing friends while waiting in line. Months went by and life got crazy, so losing touch happened all too quickly. I didn’t expect the same experience this time around, as the weather was cold and I’d opted for a quick drink at the bar across the street rather than waiting in the mile-long line in the 15-degree weather outside. When I got back in line, there were only a handful of people ahead of me, and entry took me all of 5 minutes rather than the hour it would’ve taken before.
As I pulled out my phone to have my ticket scanned by security, I felt a tap on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, this is going to sound crazy, but were you waiting in line for the Role Model concert earlier this year?” It had been Clare (name changed for the sake of the story), one of the very same girls I’d become friends with all those months ago and lost touch with. She’d come alone too, and suddenly it was like no time had passed. We walked into the venue together and scoped out the perfect spot, filling in the gaps between shows and the time we’d seen each other. Audrey’s pre-show felt like the pinnacle of girlhood, with her idyllic Y2K playlist filled with high school hits like Starships by Nicki Minaj & The Spins by Mac Miller acting as the soundtrack to new friendships formed and old ones rekindled.
Then, suddenly, the lights dimmed. From the floor I watched Audrey waltz onto stage, climb a step-latter, and pose in a comically large trench coat while disguised in glasses and a moustache. When the spotlight hit, she launched immediately into her song “I like to touch people.” The crowd roared, and, as the song came to a close, Audrey remarked how she’d been waiting for so long to come to Boston; as locals, her grandmother and sister were here, so it was our job to make this the loudest stop on her “Staircase to Stardom” tour.
As she continued through the set, Clare and I couldn’t stop dancing snd screaming alone to every song. The show ignited something in me that is hard to find after high school; the feeling of being young, free, and full of fire. With some live shows, you’re reminded how big emotion and excitement can be – Audrey Hobert was one of those shows. Suddenly, I was 17 again and reliving the days that helped shape me.
Her show was full of skits and bits; a member of her stage crew (presumably a good friend) came and put a towel around her for the song “Wet Hair,” and threw flowers at Audrey from side-stage (which Hobert pretended were from adoring audience members). One of the funniest moments, however, came from the opening of her song “Thirst Trap” – all of the lights when out, except for a single light under Hobert’s chin, giving her a look from a haunted campfire tale as she sang “so I’m crazy, that’s usually not my thing. Oh I’m crazy, suspicious and insane.” The audience couldn’t decide between laughter or singing along, and ultimately landed on a mix of both. How often does the artist want you to laugh at them, and brings you in on the joke?
Ultimately, Audrey Hobert’s music is as relatable as her personality. She’s this generation’s girlhood personified, in a way that’s so devastatingly understandable that you instantly remember all the best and worst moments of your young adult life.
And if I were you? I’d recommend you don’t miss her next time she’s around. Go alone, go with friends, but either way – go to feel like you, before life got in the way.
Nicole Speros holds a Bachelor’s degree in Communications & Media Studies and is currently diving deeper into the industry at Berklee College of Music, where she’s studying Music Business. A passionate storyteller with an eye for what’s next, Nicole brings a sharp, curious voice to her work as a music journalist. She covers emerging artists, shifting trends, and the ever-evolving intersection of music and media—with a focus on authenticity, accessibility, and the songs that connect us all.
She’s an active member of GRAMMY U/The Recording Academy and Women in Music, always looking for ways to support and amplify voices in the industry. When she’s not in class or writing, you’ll probably find her stage-side at a local Boston show or hopping on a plane for her next adventure.