Throughout indie rock outfit Wednesday’s performance at First Avenue, the old adage “Write what you know” took on new meaning. Singing amidst blisteringly loud rock riffs, Wednesday focused on devastatingly honest and deeply personal lyricism to bring their audience into their world on a Wednesday evening. 

Before Wednesday began the set, Chicago-based band Tenci greeted the slowly growing crowd with a rolling blend of country, shoegaze, and folk. Lead singer Jess Sholman’s vocals added a noisier edge to their sound as they punctuated their lyrics with high-pitched yips and squeaks. Sholman’s distinct vocal affect was balanced by steadier and more gentle harmonies of bassist Isabel Reidy, and further expanded with moving saxophone work by multi-instrumentalist Curtis Oren. These unique additions not only created an eclectic texture in their sound, but it also felt like a fresh take on indie-folk. 

Playing in support of their 2022 album, A Swollen River, a Well Overflowing, Tenci explored themes of love, the connection to family, and the often difficult search for acceptance in the world. In between songs, Reidy told the crowd they would be collecting funds for Minnesota trans rights at their merch table. The band ended their set by encouraging the crowd to “show Wednesday some love.” 

Wednesday’s First Avenue debut (the show was moved from Turf Club) came in support of their latest, highly acclaimed album, Rat Saw God. The release of their fifth album marks the next stage of songwriter and frontwoman Karly Hartzman’s exploration of her North Carolina upbringing, following 2021’s Twin Plagues. Building off themes and imagery of suburban Americana, Rat Saw God offered Hartzman an outlet to work through and subsequently release some of the deep and often painful memories tied up in these scenes of her past life, hopefully with the ultimate goal of leaving it all behind and letting go. 

This goal of release felt palpable in Wednesday’s live performance: Led by Harztman’s impassioned vocals and thrashing guitar – and supported by Jake Lenderman’s buzzing and animated guitar riffs and Xandy Chelmis’ soaring and upbeat pedal steel work – the band took each successive song as an opportunity to ratchet up their sound, volume, and energy until the entire Mainroom itself shook with each note. Hartzman, who sang lead on every song, knew exactly when to push her voice to the point of a scream, adding a new layer of volume and intensity. It felt as though Hartzman and her band were performing with all they possessed, musically and emotionally. 

Despite the initial shock of their volume, Wednesday used this intensity to reinforce stark and visceral lyricism. Hartzman’s lyrics painted a vivid narrative of a life mired in a lonely suburban mundanity, but juxtaposed with enough distortion and tragedy to feel strange and uncanny: drug and alcohol abuse, violence, sex, and sneaking out of the house. On the pounding, reverb-heavy “Quarry,” Hartzman describes a rough neighborhood and the bleak outlook of the people who live there, singing “Bobby and Jimmy sit in the baby pool / With lice in their hair / They have scoliosis / from constant slumps in misery / Flat parts on their crew cuts / From laying their head on their knees.” Alternatively, on “Chosen to Deserve,” she exposes the darker sides of herself in an ode to the person fated to be with her, saying “We always started by tellin’ our best stories first / So now that it’s been awhile / I’ll get around to tell you all my worst / Just so you know what you signed up for / What you’re dealin’ with / Just so you know what you’ve been chosen to deserve.” 

Toward the end of the show, Wednesday stripped away all the excess instrumentation to focus solely on Hartzman’s lyrics and vocals. After announcing that Lenderman had to use the restroom and the rest of the band following him offstage, Hartzman stood alone to perform “Feast of Snakes,” accompanied only by her guitar. On her own, her voice was clear and free-flowing, unburdened by singing over sludgy guitar riffs as she sang “Watch batons twirling / And the fighting dog is running on the treadmill / Rage won’t cure anything, no.” It may have been a short segment in the set, but Hartzman’s solo performance stood as a testament to her power as a frontwoman and ability to function outside of pure volume. 

Each song seemed to take on a genre of its own, from punk to slowcore, indie rock to shoegaze, often switching feel in the span of one song. The band even threw in a little bit of classic Southern rock, playing a cover of Alan Stewart’s “She’s Looking Single (I’m Drinking Doubles).” While Chelmis’ pedal steel created a foundation of outlaw country, Hartzman and Lenderman added distinctive, growling punk rock guitar riffs beneath it. As they played, the entire crowd seemed to move as one to headbang with the band. 

Wednesday maintained a comfortable conversation with the audience throughout the set, taking a moment to speak between nearly every track. Digressions included a lesson on how to dance to country music, troubles they’ve experienced with gear on tour, awkward situations while playing abroad, and more. “‘Minnesotians’ have great vibes,” Lenderman remarked toward the beginning of the show, immediately earning corrections from the audience for his malapropism. 

Rather than doing an encore to end their night, Wednesday closed out with a simple, yet searing closer of “Bull Believer.” “This song is hard and traumatic for me,” Harztman said, “but I find that channeling my screaming into this is more productive.” Hartzman described how this screaming and anger has become more relevant recently, naming recent abortion bans and restrictions on gender expression in her home state of North Carolina. Encouraging attendees to donate to Tenci’s drive, she invited the audience to join her in her anger. “Scream it out with me. It feels really good,” she said. “It’s toward the end of tour, so I’m going to let it out extra.” 

Guided by an immediately urgent guitar, Hartzman’s anguish was unmistakable from the moment the song began. She sang without backup, as someone attempting to pull themself back together after a hardship. At the end of the song, she began to repeat the phrase “Finish him” over and over with more intensity each time, until she was at a full shriek as the guitars howled behind her. Each refrain pounded in the crowd’s ears, making her audience want to cry, scream along with her or both. It was a stunning moment of catharsis on which to end the show. 

Wednesday and Tenci

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Setlist

Hot Rotten Grass Smell

Cody’s Only Twin Plagues 

Formula One

Chosen to Deserve

She’s Acting Single (I’m Drinking Doubles) (Gary Stewart)

How Can You Live If You Can’t Love How Can You If You Do

Bath County

Handsome Man

Maura

What’s So Funny

One More Last One

Quarry

Feast of Snakes

Gary’s 

The Burned Down Dairy Queen

Got Shocked

Fate Is…

Bull Believer