Indie singer-songwriter Indigo De Souza’s Saturday performance at the Coffman Union Great Hall was highly anticipated since the concert was announced in late August.
That was before De Souza’s house was destroyed in Hurricane Helene late last month, along with her hometown of Asheville, North Carolina.
“I’m feeling very fragile and intense right now, and I just wanted to share that,” she said after informing the crowd of her loss.
That fragility was apparent in De Souza’s somber stage presence, the heaviness of her burden visibly weighing down her shoulders and softening her smiles and giggles between songs.
Though the concert was planned to be a low-key solo set from the beginning, the set-up was fitting given the circumstances. Armed with her electric guitar, De Souza held her own despite it being her first time performing without her band.
De Souza deviated from the norm by flipping through a binder of her songs on stage and randomly choosing what to play rather than following a setlist.
The result was a selection of slow songs that exuded a range of powerful emotions connected by an overarching theme of recovering from loss.
“I look my best when I say what I mean / don’t push me out of mind,” she sang softly from her 2016 deep cut “The Moon Is No Good.” “I do my best on Saturdays / leave the rest of the week behind.”
De Souza’s incredible vocal range was on full display, from her tender singing to almost agonized belting, coupled with a ghostly vibrato.
In a similar vein of cursing celestial bodies, De Souza displayed a powerful crescendo in the refrain of “The Sun Is Bad.”
“The sun just don’t rise up for me this time / Sun just won’t rise up for us tonight.”
“The Sun Is Bad” is written from De Souza’s agonized perspective while she breaks up with her partner, but it evokes the pain of letting go of anything that was once deeply loved.
De Souza’s stripped and slowed rendition of “All of This Will End” epitomized the mood of the show. It felt like she had dedicated the song to herself, a cathartic release of all of the strife she’s experienced lately.
“You ask me what I think about this / Is there a reason for it? / I don’t have answers, no one does / I’ve been finding comfort in that,” she sang.
A sort of joyful nihilism imbued the chorus: “Who gives a f-ck? / All of this will end / Don’t forget / All of this will end.”
The crowd was vocal in their support for De Souza throughout the show, with whooping cheers echoing throughout the Great Hall after every song.
“If you have anything you need to yell out, please do at any time,” De Souza told the crowd.
“I love you!” someone shouted in immediate response, eliciting a giggle from De Souza.
Before performing the last song she wrote in her now-ruined house, De Souza apologized for how sad it was to bring it up. A crowd member shouted back, “We’re here for you!” followed by applause.
The mood that evening was not wholly melancholy. De Souza introduced her cover of Gabrielle Aplin’s “Home” with a playful anecdote of how she wooed her first significant boyfriend with the song.
“I saw him playing guitar in public and I went up to him after and said, ‘I like your voice. You know, I do that too. Can I play you a song?’” she explained. “That was like, the most forward I’ve ever been.”
In another moment of levity, she told the bittersweet story of how she had to rehome her dog after he kept killing her neighbor’s ducks before performing the song she wrote for him.
“Country problems,” she laughed. Everyone else did, too.
De Souza ended the night with “Younger & Dumber,” a heart-wrenching lament about trauma kickstarting growing up without any warning or preparation.
“I don’t feel at home in this house anymore,” she sang, her words evoking her mud-filled house and flooded hometown.
The end of the chorus came out in a powerful belt: “Which way will I run when I’m over you? / I don’t feel at home in this town.”
As she finished the song, De Souza’s voice grew soft again.
“When I was younger / Younger and dumber / I didn’t know better.”
De Souza had no words after her set. She simply made a heart with her hands over her head at the crowd, smiling softly. Several audience members made the gesture back.
Minneapolis indie band Creeping Charlie and angsty indie rocker Susannah Joffe opened for De Souza, who infused energy into the otherwise subdued night.