For Clairo, a Subdued Set in Dallas Is Part of the 'Charm'

There was a moment, a few songs in, when Clairo and a couple members of her band couldn’t stop laughing.

The concert was in full swing, and it seemed like everyone in the sold-out crowd at The Factory in Deep Ellum had their phones trained on the stage, eager to capture the 26-year-old singer’s every move.

That didn’t matter.

Some private joke was cracking up the frontwoman, her flutist and the artist on keys, and it took a good 10 seconds for them to recover and get back to the task at hand.

Such were the vibes at the Sept. 27 show, when Clairo — real name Claire Cottrill — performed in Dallas at what might be best described as a jam session with 4,000 friends. “Concert” feels somehow big and formal; this was a subdued set that felt at times like a hangout.

It began like one, too: Cottrill and her band walked on stage with drinks in hand and sat down for a minute or two, the crowd pealing in the background of their conversation. The setting affirmed this casual aura, with couches spread across the center of the stage like the band had set up shop in one of their mom’s swanky living rooms.

When they began playing, the mood shifted down a peg: The opener, “Nomad,” set the tone for a laid-back night of lo-fi pop, with even the grooviest songs still carrying a peaceful, calming energy. This was undoubtedly the work of Cottrill’s voice: Its sweet, light quality makes you want to use terms like “bedroom pop” even if you’re not entirely sure you know what that means. Even when the drummer or Wurlitzer threatened to blow the roof off The Factory — and that drummer was putting in work — Cottrill’s voice brought them back down to the soothing level that is clearly her zone.

At times, this was almost a genuine problem. The sound mixing never felt completely balanced, with the band sometimes overpowering or drowning out what is usually Cottrill’s best asset: the lyrics. Whether she’s embracing a folkier sound via her 2021 album Sling or chasing a funkier path on her latest record, Charm, the singer writes about love and yearning and sadness and joy in a way that eminently relatable (even if, say, you’re feeling decidedly ancient amongst a gaggle of youths at a pop concert).

“Twenty-five is very interesting,” she recently told The New Yorker, “because I’m meeting a lot of wonderful people. But I’m realizing that everyone, including me, has no idea what the fuck they’re doing. That can be really comforting, and also really annoying.” This tension between comfort and angst was a recurring theme at the Dallas show; how could it not be when she performs songs such as “Second Nature”?

The “Charm” track begins with an endearing “Da-dum, a-da-da-da-da-dum,” as if Cottrill and her crew are skipping through the park. Then she hits you with lyrics like, “And once you get in my ear / I see kismet sinking in / It's second nature.” In her songs, love is inevitable, and even if it cuts you wide open, it’s far better to be vulnerable than shut off from the pain.

To that end, most of the audience was as subdued as the woman holding their attention. Don’t get it twisted: There were several moments where the groove of “Charm” got the people moving — especially when Cottrill played “Add Up My Love,” a pop bop that made for one of the more upbeat performances of the night. But for the most part, they remained rapt and silently swaying, much like Cottrill herself.

She wore bulky headphones over her ears, like she was in her bedroom back in 2017, about to upload “Pretty Girl” on YouTube and kickstart a career that has now introduced her to Jack Antonoff, Charli XCX and legions of adoring fans. And even in those moments when the tracks were faster-paced, the flutist was on fire and the drummer was playing like this was a Foo Fighters audition, Cottrill simply swayed and mildly sashayed, endearingly locked in her own vibe-y world.

Naturally, the show ended with her latest hit, “Juna,” a song that has what Pitchfork aptly describes as “retro propulsion.” It boasts a confidence that feels almost anathema to what we expect from Cottrill, and above all else, it has a funk feel that adds a nice exclamation point to both the album Charm and her concert as a whole. This is the out-of-the-wilderness moment: Unlike past songs, there’s no doubt that the woman singing it is a badass who knows what she wants, at least in this moment. She may still be figuring out herself beyond this moment, but who isn’t?

“I don't even try,” she sings. “I don't have to think / With you, there's no pretending.”

It’s the kind of song that makes you dance in your room, even if your dance is just a groovy sway.

And maybe that's what “bedroom pop” means.