Alice Phoebe Lou @ Berklee Performance Center 4/11
Photography by Megan Kwan
Review by Alissa Doemling
If Alice Phoebe Lou is not known for her music, she’s known for the self-defined, whimsically autonomous energy she fosters in herself and her audience. This was evident to me upon walking into the venue when I was hugged by the loud and edgy feminine energy in the theater lobby, with long hair ribbons left and right, assortment of facial piercings, straight-cut microbangs, and shiny ballet flats. As cliché as it was, I felt right at home.
Alice Phoebe Lou is a South-African born singer-songwriter based in Berlin whose music blends genres of folk, indie, and pop with intimately personal lyrics that make each song feel like they’re written specifically for each of her individual listeners, no matter what they might be going through. At least, that’s how I felt on Saturday at the third concert of her Oblivion North American Tour—taking place at the Berklee Performance Center, an over 1,200-seat theater that illuminated warm purple and red lighting on stage.

After the opener, John Andrews, finished his set, the theater was filled with lively chatter and calm background music until nine o’clock sharp when all noise quieted down to welcome Alice. Dressed in a long black dress layered over dark jeans, her style mirrored that of mine and the rest of her audience. She opened with a stripped-down performance of her song “Hammer,” playing the acoustic guitar as she sang into her microphone. Immediately, the stage became hers and only hers—no band behind her, just her rich, silky voice and the soft vibration of the guitar reverberating around the theater hall. I could not look away.
Early in her career, Alice started her footing as a street musician, busking throughout Berlin after moving there in the early 2010s. After the first few songs of Saturday’s performance, this background became evident as she conversed with the crowd: not only did her booming vocals entrance the audience, but too did her lightness, natural rapport, and most notably, yet unexpectedly, her humor; all which transcended and kept me engaged throughout the show. I went to this concert alone, but it didn’t feel that way. Alice’s playful personality was contagious and I found moments laughing out loud with her and with my fellow concertgoers, while taking in personal moments of introspection from her candidly tender lyricism.

During the performance of her song “Glow,” Alice got confessional in her lyrics, such as “My mom knows I’ll be alright / But she’ll be glad I’m home.” She continued this emotional momentum during her song “Pretender,” a song that her opener, John Andrews, joined the stage to accompany her on piano.
“How sweet it could be / If I could love myself / Even when I wanted to be someone else.”
I felt the hands of these brutally authentic, yet sweetly sensitive lyrics gently reach out and tap my vulnerabilities, accepting them for what they are. I transitioned between ear-to-ear giggles and slight, quiet tears between her songs, reminded of the human beauty of music and literature as vehicles for eliciting emotion and connection, no matter how deep.
Alice then took to the piano, confessing she didn’t feel like a proper pianist, especially when performing a show at a school like Berklee. As soon as she touched the piano, however, she disproved her own statement: her piano-playing was as powerful and layered as her voice.

What was even more special about this show was when Alice shared a never-before-played song on the piano, which she herself deemed to be just a “lullaby.” This was a serious understatement for the raw, stripped-down rendition and emotionally transparent lyrics: “You couldn’t fool me if you tried / there’s a message in your eyes / and I’m tired of wasting time.”
Alice continued demonstrating her talents on the omnichord for her song “Touch.” The crowd became one when she covered Neil Young’s “Harvest Moon,” unified like a choir. During the performance of song “Open My Door,” the only song on the setlist that she used a backtrack for, Alice danced freely, swinging her arms softly in the air as she sang her song—in this moment, she looked the most herself. Soon enough, the night had to end, but not without some fun. Alice ended with her most popular song “Witches.” Just in case we’d forgotten her humor by the end of the set, the singer claimed: “I’m a Diva, I don’t leave and go back out for my encore, this is my encore.”
I feel that I entered the Berklee Performance Center to find a soft-spoken and delicate musician performing, whose music I was only slightly familiar with. Within an hour and a half, I left having watched what felt so deeply like an older sister or a friendly mentor who confidently knew her voice and was unashamed of it.






