Squirrel Flower Reaches Out at The Blue Room

Rain rolled down the multicolored walls outside The Blue Room Saturday, and I walked in soaked, hoping the bad weather would subside. It was a night for cardigans and beanies, as well as gloomy lyrics and grungy guitars courtesy of Squirrel Flower and friends.  

Melaina Kol, a relatively recent arrival to Nashville from North Carolina, was first to take the stage. It’s the solo project of enigmatic 20-something Logan Hornyak, who sat cross-legged with his cream-colored guitar at stage left out of the spotlight, creating a percussive backbone for the glitchy, lo-fi soundscape his live band spread out around him. The lyrics — if you could hear his soft vocals over the reversed samples and fuzz — spoke to anxiety and confusion characteristic of adolescence, in a sort of Animal Collective-esque way that prioritizes emotional impact over a clear narrative. “Nx,” a song from Melaina Kol’s 2022 record Roach Friends, is made up of seemingly unrelated words recited over a repeating musical figure, with the rundown bisected by a lengthy instrumental break.

A short set break ensued, during which college students braved the elements to smoke or chat before singer-songwriter Greg Mendez took the stage. The lanky Philadelphia resident sat down with only an acoustic guitar, wearing a “Nashville, Indiana” shirt layered over a black long-sleeve. Thanking the audience, he twisted his way through his lengthy discography, singing with a gentle warble reminiscent of Phil Elverum or Elliott Smith. Like the work of those songwriters, Mendez’s lyrics are disquieting and intensely autobiographical. “Sweet 16,” which appears on 2020’s Cherry Hell, is true to Mendez’s life: Because of addiction and plain bad luck, he spent a couple of years couch surfing or sleeping in a public park or locked car. He got clean in 2015 and released his first full-length album a year later.

He sang a few songs solo before inviting his wife Veronica Mendez to the stage. Their harmonies rang particularly well together during “Morgan,” when his tremble and her lush high register intertwined to recount a subway fight. Quickly, the song morphed into a restless depiction of agony and fear. “Motherfucker put his hands on you,” Mendez sang, strumming more and more aggressively with his right hand. It was hard not to notice the large rose tattooed on that hand, perhaps a reminder of the connections between pain and beauty. 

After another little break, Squirrel Flower — a childhood nickname for Chicago-based singer-songwriter and bandleader Ella Williams — took over. The tall, curly-haired frontwoman strapped on her Gibson SG and launched straight into “Full Time Job,” from October’s Tomorrow’s Fire, like a Gen-Z version of Liz Phair. The gritty riff contrasted with her rich vocals that reflected on losing yourself to a partner. Eventually, the band’s performance dissolved into a singular, shrill note of feedback as the group shifted into the motorik groove of “Intheskatepark.” Williams sang, “On the roof and I’m breathing you in / In the dead of the summertime,” taking the audience back to a time when breaking curfews, stealing booze and trying to learn to express your feelings reigned above all. 

A little later, Williams told the crowd about the uncanny feeling of finding out via Twitter that Russian rapper FACE used her song “Conditions” as the beat for his 2017 track “Лиза.” After that came “I Don’t Use a Trash Can,” which first appeared on her 2015 debut Early Winter Songs From Middle America but was rerecorded for Tomorrow’s Fire. Following the arrangement of the new version, Williams used a looping pedal to layer her vocals over themselves, creating a haunting choral effect combined with her rhythmic fingerpicking. With these several versions of Williams singing along with herself, the song was a moving depiction of self-sabotage and melancholy. For this song about solitude, the band stood quietly and watched her perform solo.

“I’m gonna bring up a friend for this one,” said Williams, introducing Carolina Chauffe, the mind behind widely traveling indie-folk outfit hemlock. If you’ve visited the merch table on this run of Squirrel Flower shows, you’ve met Chauffe; she is also a visual artist who’s created a set of linocut prints, sales of which benefit Mirna El Helbawi’s campaign to support Palestinian citizens in wartime with mobile network access via donated eSIM cards. Williams and Chauffe rolled into “Iowa 146,” a song capturing the intimacy of an early morning with a partner. “If I play you guitar / Will everything fall away,” they sang in harmony.

Hearing it in the context of the ongoing war in Gaza, it was hard to think about much besides all that’s wrong in the world: genocide, mass shootings, homelessness. You can hope that music will just take away all the anxiety and grief. It can’t. But capturing your feelings in song remains a vital way to try and process them and make a connection to others.