Close Personal Friend, Audrey Hobert, visits The Theatre of Living Arts

eva
1 day ago
2 min read

Fresh snow coated the street leading up to the Theatre of Living Arts, as the staff shoveled the powder and dusted off the marquee. Eccentric and relatable, the girls’ girl of all girls’ girls, the name in black cap letters read Audrey Hobert. A mix of metallic Mary Janes and Reebok Club Cs footprinted the salty sidewalk as groups of friends huddled under a communal scarf. They had lined up since before doors, despite the below-freezing temperatures. They were eager to hang out with their close personal friend, Audrey.

After her lead single “Sue Me” charted on Billboard’s Pop Airplay, a 12-track album followed suit. Hobert’s debut, Who’s The Clown, came out three months later—an introspective and amusing pop record, filled to the brim with funny, witty lyrics (please see “Bowling Alley” or “Chateau”) and easy melodies.

Much like the start to her debut, Hobert began with “I like to touch people.” Adorning a trench coat, gray scarf, and a banjo, the singer-songwriter dressed as if she was about to go to the grocery store (complimentary). Shouting out her family and friends after “Drive,” Hobert recounted the last-minute venue change, allowing her to play to the largest crowd of the tour. “Philly’s going to be lit-est!” she exclaimed. Concertgoers in clown noses and wigs spilled down the stairs, remembering the lyrics to every track, leaving the big shoes at home.

One of Hobert’s calling cards in Who’s The Clown was fitting as many words into a chord progression as she could, a welcomed challenge for all of her fans to memorize each and every word. “Chateau” had a chorus full of callbacks, making it easy for the audience to participate in the mouthful, and had the most buildup sonically of the show, with the electric guitar being introduced at the bridge and carrying the rest of the song.

“Wet Hair” included the longest live interlude I might have ever heard, mimicking a friend who you love but just can’t get off the phone. The show could not have been complete without “Sue Me,” a song so good, she played it twice – the first time with a mini trampoline and the fans that blow your hair in a music-video kind of way. Much like the sonics of the album, the show was relaxed and fun, authentic and intentionally messy. Deeply relatable and irrefutably funny, Hobert jested and jabbed at her imperfections and lack thereof, making her even more of a shooting star than she probably bargained for.

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