Eight years after releasing her breakout hit “Pretty Girl,” Maggie Lindemann shows what’s really behind a pretty face. For her? Confidence, anger, obsession, lots of heartbreak and everything in between. Aptly, she proclaims “i feel everything” — the title of her sophomore album.
By the time she embarked on her second full project, Lindemann had long shattered the melodic, soft pop sound of that first song that launched her to fame. In her first EP, “PARANOIA,” and debut album, “SUCKERPUNCH,” Lindemann pivoted firmly into pop punk. With “i feel everything,” she experimented with hyperpop and pop-rock elements to add fresh colors to her palette.
Opening up Lindemann’s Nashville show Feb. 24, Ayleen Valentine strolled on stage with sparkling eyeshadow and a bedazzled guitar. Shrouded in vivid lights with her hair blowing in the wind, she amped up the crowd through encouragements to shout and scream with her. Throwing her guitar pick into the crowd, it flew right past my face to an audience member scrambling beside me to locate it with a phone flashlight. With her soft, lilting and sometimes haunting voice, she had the audience singing alongside her by the time she finished with “don’t be sad.”
But Valentine was just the beginning. As the audience waited for Lindemann in the dim room, the anticipation only grew. Fans speculated about what songs she might play and proclaimed their excitement.
“I can’t believe we’re going to be face to face with her,” someone beside me said.
“I wonder what she’s going to wear?” another audience member said.
Finally, the lights darkened and Lindemann ran onstage. Her choppy pitch-black hair, skull T-shirt, chunky silver bracelets and myriad of tattoos embodied her rebellious, gritty style. She opened with some of my favorites, electrifying the room with “fang” and “spine.” Through this pair, she chastised a bloodsucking, then spineless man. In “joyride,” she launched into the euphoria of a chaotic, bigger-than-life relationship. Her dramatic flair and pronounced stage presence had the crowd headbanging and jumping to every beat.
After this thrilling opening, she toned down the energy in “mourning,” showcasing a more vulnerable, heartfelt side. Here, her distinct, sweet voice shone through as the pulsing drum and bass quieted into the background. Shifting her sadness from a broken romance to a broken relationship with herself, “i don’t belong here” explored her insecurities and sense of losing herself.
The ear-splitting instrumentals returned for her next tracks, but the vulnerable topics did not disappear. She questioned her worth in an unequal relationship in her so-called “crashout” song, “let me burn,” then lamented her tendency to push people away in “self sabotage.” She moved through songs at a breakneck pace, barely pausing to sip water. Whether spiraling or seething — admonishing an egotistical partner or a downright evil one — the crowd knew every lyric, often screaming so loudly I could barely hear Lindemann.
“You’re not sad, you’re just evil!” the crowd sang to “evil.”
There was something self-assured and intentional about Lindemann’s movement as she danced across the stage. Each moment felt perfectly messy, from dropping to her knees on “heart drop” to sarcastic, wide-eyed shock on “split.”
She brought back several songs from her previous projects, joking that her fans had been mad at her for skipping songs from “HEADSPLIT,” her previous EP. But I was most excited for “she knows it,” a single from her first album. With heavy 2000s punk and emo influences, Lindemann rages at a friendzone situation from hell where a girl leads her on while having a boyfriend.
Maggie announced her final song to disbelief from the audience. After belting out the pulsating, synth-infused title track, she ran off stage.
“Encore! Encore!” the fans chanted.
After a few moments of letting the tension climb, Lindemann skipped back onstage. She ended the night with a bang, truly closing by begging somebody to “hear me out.” While I was not much of a listener before, by the end of the night, I was excited to revisit her discography and do just that. After the emotionally charged, roller-coaster of a setlist, Lindemann bowed and playfully posed with twin peace signs. Her tongue-in-cheek goodbye encapsulated the humor behind darkness — the rebound after heartbreak. Sure, she feels everything, but so what? We all do.
