On August 6th, McKenna Grace performed at Baby’s All Right in Brooklyn, New York. Mckenna’s aesthetic is clearly influenced by the likes of Olivia Rodrigo and Avril Lavigne, resonating with the current resurgence of pop-punk that has been evident in mainstream music for some time. There is an air of innocence to her bouncy, bubbly, blonde, Polly Pocket style but this impression is completely juxtaposed by her vulnerable angst and explosive guitar riffs. She’s not painting herself to be a “Good Girl Gone Bad” character, but rather a refreshingly real nuanced teenage girl that need not be the apex between the two extremes, desperately attempting to keep both feet on a balance beam. Mckenna expresses her multitudes with grace, delivering a performance that feels earnest. It’s as if she is dancing a ballet, holding a ribbon that resembles the flowing stream of her emotions.
Her fans are incredibly polite among each other in the audience. Everyone is self-possessed and aware of how their bodies occupy space in relation to others. Many apologies and “excuse me’s” are passed around through the crowd. There is not a feeling of an individualized listening experience or an “every man for himself” sort of shoving towards the front that can take place in smaller venues, but rather a real community rallying around a shared feeling of kinship and admiration to Mckenna. They exclaim that they are in love with her.
Her lyrics are strikingly raw. She dishes about her relationships in complete honesty to the audience, as if confiding to a friend, “This is a song about the last guy I was with (don’t worry it’s not the current guy) he was a little more experienced than I was and it could be intimidating.” The transparency makes this venue feel as if it’s at a hometown basement show, she might as well be sitting on the floor criss-cross with an acoustic guitar in her lap. In bursts of nervous babbling she breaks off and asks where to get bubble tea after the show. Her fans throw bracelets and stuffed animals at her as she cowers, trying to avoid getting whipped by the hard plastic beads. The curtain has been lifted so to speak. She’s traditionally an actress with more than 50 IMDB credits to her name. Some of her fans may have created parasocial relationships with her, most likely relating to her as her character in Young Sheldon, or the GhostBusters franchise.
Tonight she is divorcing herself of the privacy that the slick silver screen offered. She is a real live teenage girl. She explains the process of falling out of love with one’s first love. This is the sort of intimacy Mckenna commands on stage. It’s as if the fans have shared the same body. Her songs tell their stories; about crying on a couch, feeling doubtful while looking in the mirror, longing and yearning. Experiences one has as a young person or teenager, while the world feels both so newly open and yet still closed; as if one is waiting in an empty hallway between two doors, unsure of what lies on either side. “I should become a broker,” she says in Ugly Crier, reflecting on her uncertainty of what lies ahead for her — hoping to find an easy way out.
She provides a disclaimer, almost admitting guilt to her impressionable tween fan base that worships her, that her songs are too depressing. She doubts herself out loud, profusely apologizing for the gloominess of her songs. She aims to stick to her setlist, denying requests from the crowd. She had curated a flow beforehand that she must honor. Her fans provide emotional support to her through these melancholy songs, compassionately waving the flashlight feature on their phones in unison to the somber lyrics. In her following song, she overcomes this anxiety and depression — her angst turns on as she feels her own moping becoming too unproductive, she turns her aggression against herself outward and belts in a more punk chorus, reaching an emotional catharsis. The disco ball suddenly reflects hot pink lights. The crowd goes mad for this number, and at the end she obliges and provides an encore of “Loser” per her fans’ requests.
Setlist
- Checkered Vans
- Your Ruined Nirvana
- Ugly Crier
- Gentleman
- Post Party Trauma
- Swim Team
- Love Fool (Cardigans Cover)
- Cut Your Losses (unreleased)
- Do All My Friends Hate Me?
- LOSER!!
- Buzzkill Baby
Photo Credit: Jenna Houchin