by 
By Kevin Keck
It is a rare experience to watch an emerging artist in a small club and know with absolute certainty that you are witnessing someone who is on the verge of becoming a bonafide star. That was certainly the case when Indigo De Souza took the stage at The Pour House in Charleston on June 14th. There was an electricity in the room before De Souza and her band strummed the first chords of the haunting “Darker Than Death” a little before 9:30, as though the crowd in attendance was fully aware that the intimacy of this performance was soon to be relegated to the past as the rest of the world becomes aware of the strength of De Souza’s compositions and the charisma of her stage presence.
Lyrically and sonically, De Souza conjures a cocktail of all of the best recordings released by Matador Records in the 1990s; she is a singer-songwriter in the mold of Liz Phair and PJ Harvey, with a heavy helping of pop sensibilities thrown in for good measure. Her lyrics are confessional and introspective, exploring the dark corners of relationships and the human condition with an honesty that is both refreshing and disarming. Onstage, she is a force of nature, her powerful voice never faltering as she bares her soul to the audience. She is backed by a tight band that knows how to highlight her strengths without overpowering her.
The Pour House audience was willing to have a taste of whatever De Souza served up—as she and her band took time to tune between the first few songs of her set, the crowd exchanged banter with her and shouted words of affirmation: “You’re perfect!” an acolyte screamed; “Not true!” De Souza shot back, clearly blushing and embarrassed by the praise, immediately launching into the very danceable and sing-a-long worthy gem “Kill Me” with its heartfelt instructions: Fuck me till my brains start dripping.
As the set progressed the audience grew quiet and reverential between songs as if held in rapturous awe by the sight of De Souza bathed in the blue cascade of stage lights as if the sounds of her voice and guitar had consecrated the space and she was beatified at its center, preparing to lead us all into a palace of transcendence. And then she would start singing again, and we would all be brought back to the present moment with the force of her words and the power of her performance.
A high point of the night was the mid-set ballad “Real Pain”, a heart-wrenching song about the loss of love for which De Souza abandons the protective shield of her guitar and commands the stage with full-throated, Rock God status. The simplicity of the song’s arrangement served to underscore the emotional power of the lyrics, and by the time she reached the final crescendo— belting out an expansive, crooning, empathetic voodoo wail—the entire room was awash in a sonic cacophony that left no doubt that De Souza did indeed know and understand pain and triumphed over it, and in doing so her triumph became our own.
“Real Pain” was followed by the Mazzy Star-like blues dirge “What Are We Gonna Do Now” that further showcased De Souza’s prodigious vocal talents. Lyrically, the song plays with a dysfunctional domestic scenario, and the musical arrangement contains elements of 1950s honky-tonk, and it was hard not to notice a wry smile on De Souza’s face throughout this song, and how her hair was adorned with a red polka-dot bow—an appropriate homage to Rosie the Riveter and the strength of a woman’s power.
Thematically, much of De Souza’s music deals with loss, grief, and pain, but there is also an undercurrent of hope and resilience that runs through her songs, such as in the arena-rock worthy “Way Out”: “There are no monsters underneath your bed / And I’ll never be the only thing you love / … If you want to change / I’ll be here to love you / I’ll be here to hold you through the pain.”
It is difficult to overstate the crowd’s welcoming reception of Indigo De Souza.
She has a way of making you feel as though you are the only person in the room, even when it is packed to capacity. And her songs, which are often dark and introspective, take on a new meaning when performed live. They feel less like documents of experience and more like living, breathing entities, capable of changing and evolving as she works through them onstage.
De Souza is definitely the kind of artist that the world needs now, bearing a horn of fire and light through the darkness constantly encroaching. De Souza is a rare talent, and she is clearly on the verge of something great—her show immediately following Charleston was at Bonnaroo; she won’t be a well-kept secret for very long. If you have the opportunity to see her perform do not miss it. It will be an experience you cherish for quite some time.
