Beth Hutchings

Pop With A Soul: Ryn Weaver

7/28/15 – The Sinclair

“Relationships can be so superficial nowadays. We all look at the pictures we post to Instagram and go, ‘Wow, look at how many friends I have… but none of that’s real.’” Ryn Weaver strolled across the stage, acting out social media obsession with exaggerated facial expressions. “Turn to a person near you that you haven’t met and introduce yourself.” The murmur of hundreds of voices swapping names bubbled up as the pop singer grinned with delight. “That’s more like it, now you know who you’re partying with.” She strutted the stage, lad in high-waisted jeans and a clingy top that accentuated her Elvis-style hip swivels she performed frequently. Her three-piece band stayed in the shadows, letting Weaver’s charisma take center stage.

Although her hit single has 15 million listens on Spotify, Ryn Weaver is not a pop princess. Genuine, warm, and a little bit weird, she exudes a magnetic stage presence and strong vocals that hammer home thoughtful lyrics: “There’s no walls and no ceilings as far as I know / Just the echoes of scars and the unbeaten road.” 

Prancing, swaying, and unexpectedly breaking it down, Weaver belted Pierre and Sail On with confidence and sass. Both fast-paced tunes, they bounced from the hopelessness of heartbreak to the resolute tenacity of moving on with poetic lyrics and fun, danceable beats. Answering Weaver’s siren call, her cult fans shouted lyrics with delighted, hoarse voices and clutched at her hands when she swung by.

“I think you bring people with you.” Weaver contemplated the wall of people that pressed up closer to her. “Good ex, bad ex, friends, people you never thought would touch your life; you bring them with you on the road.” The crowd stood stock-still as she continued, “This song was very sad to me when I wrote it, but it’s gotten less sad for me as time goes on. My grandfather passed away last January and it was a really rough time for me. This is called Traveling Song,” she concluded, launching straight into the opening chords.

It was simple and sweet, with elegantly wrought lyrics that deserved all the attention they got; “Nobody knows where they are going / Oh, how we try to wrap our minds / Over the edge of all our ‘knowings.'” Spellbound, the crowd murmured along at a lower volume, almost in respect of the song’s emotional rawness. Clutching the microphone, Weaver’s bold brass voice cracked for the first time. She seemed impervious to the lights and crowd; speaking only to the ceiling.

The lights dimmed out on a beautifully intimate moment. Weaver brightened up a moment later: “And now we’ll bring it on back because it’s a party!” She laughed, taking a fast lap around the stage and composing herself in an instant before launching forward once more; no brakes.

Later that night, she introduced her hit single with a freshly sardonic note: “So this is the one your friend probably played you before dragging you to this concert. I know you’ve been waiting for Octahate.” With a sly smile and child-like enthusiasm, Weaver sang-shouted the catchy beats and easily singable lyrics that have made the song such a hit.

To close it all out, Weaver brought out “her favorite song,” New Constellations. With closed eyes and a room-shaking intensity, she swept everyone up in the moment, singing “Cause it’s hard to believe that it’s wrong to want more / Than the truest of blue and a love like a roar.” Standing frozen center stage and sweating profusely from the night’s wild dancing, Ryn led the room to a thundering crescendo.

Then, having bared her soul in front of hundreds, she abruptly vanished off stage, leaving her band to finish the final chords. Moments later, the lights came on, leaving a desperate crowd wondering if it was wrong to want “just a little bit more.”