The Scene Kid: Four USC artists turned my kitchen into a stage

Holiday wrapping paper and string lights decorated the bottom floor of my house, void of furniture. Sitting criss-cross applesauce, my friends and other local music lovers sipped hot cocoa as they intently watched artists perform on the kitchen-turned-stage-floor. The performers took turns singing and playing acoustic guitar on a cheap Ikea dining table chair, transforming the most simple, scrappy setup into a real venue for their personal lyricism and sweet melodies. 

Although I hosted this house show after classes had officially ended, just before winter break, the event was undoubtedly the highlight of last semester. Very little makes me happier than inviting some of my most talented pals to entertain a house full of friends who come to soak up live, local music. Creating a tangible sense of community with art reminds me how great it is to be alive. For days, I could not stop talking about how beautiful the show was. 

Or I suppose I still can’t stop talking about it. Hear me out: These artists are your neighbors, your classmates, your fellow TacoZone patrons. I promise you’ll want to support them too.

Opening the show was Fringe Friend, a project led by Elon Wertman, a senior majoring in music production. He introduced each song with a story about its meaning, sharing vignettes with the cross-legged college kids sitting before him like it was preschool storytime.

Many of the songs he performed came from his debut EP “Prescience,” which was released at the beginning of last summer. Wertman’s alternative folk tracks combine his storytelling nature with a strong vocal belt, commanding the audience to listen to the tender things he wrote about the people he loves. “I’m Here,” a crowd favorite, begins with Wertman exclaiming “I’m a door!” as a quirky, catchy hook that sticks in the minds of listeners instantly. While chatting with the crowd after his set, I heard multiple people singing about being doors, too. 

Next came Natalie Lee, whose stage name is Manley, a senior majoring in music industry. Lee is known for the inclusive concerts she throws with the rest of her team at Sleezehog Productions. Because she constantly books other bands to perform, Lee rarely gets the opportunity to perform her own music. I find that to be an absolute shame, so I decided to book her myself. 

If I were to describe Lee’s music in two words, I would use “emo” and “gay.” I, too, am emo and gay. Thus, I love her music. Writing about subjects like unrequited love and losing family, Lee tugged at the audience’s heartstrings on that mid-December day. Her latest EP, “You Wouldn’t Know What’s Good for You Even If It Hit You in the Face,” came out last year. The project features a pop track about a crush titled “When Girls Go,” which I’ve played on repeat and which she used to close her set on a lighter note. After Lee finished, my friends turned to me, saying, “So good. So sad.”

The Midnight Contender then took the stage. Midnight is the stage name of Ritwik Krishnan, a sophomore majoring in music production, and we go way back. We went to high school together, and I would photograph the concerts he held with his old band, The Cautious. 

Like Lee, Krishnan writes with melancholy, often writing about bittersweet love and struggles with himself. “She keeps asking why I’m always smoking weed / I tell her ‘cause I hate myself” rang through my house as the crowd sang along to his incredibly blunt, sad lyrics to “it doesn’t get better (it never gets better),” which he has posted on SoundCloud. The desperation of Krishnan’s depression grows clearer as the song continues until he is almost shouting. When he finishes the song on a softer note, the audience is left silent and still.

Sophie Feldman, a sophomore majoring in popular music and psychology, finished off the show. She was highly recommended by Krishnan, who said, and I quote, she “writes the best fucking music ever.” Trusting his opinion, I shot her a text after listening to some of her tracks on Spotify. 

Most of the songs Feldman performed that day were ones she had written for her songwriting classes at USC, but the fact that they were school assignments did not diminish their quality. Watching Feldman perform was like listening to her read her diary out loud, confessing her thoughts and fears about relationships and growing up. For a couple of her songs, Feldman brought in two friends of hers to harmonize, and it was angelic.

Before the show began, I spent the morning pacing nervously. I wondered, “Will people show up? Am I forgetting anything? Is there enough hot cocoa? Is there too much? What if it all falls apart somehow and I disappoint everyone, especially myself?”

But I didn’t have to fret; the show was a success. I spent the afternoon at home listening to my friends — some of the most talented songwriters I know, perform to an audience of newly converted fans and perhaps now, you’re a convert, too.

Fiona Pestana is a junior writing about Los Angeles’ local music scene. Her column,“The Scene Kid,” runs every other Thursday.