I Like Giants Because She Does: Kimya Dawson's Heartfelt Brooklyn Show
When I woke up this morning Kimya Dawsons song I Like Giants circulated in my head. Cause I, like, giants. Eee-special-leee girl giants over and over again. I wasnt too surprised, Dawsons songs often have a catchy, whistle-friendly tune to them and last night she played at the Music Hall of Williamsburg. Joining her were a collection of her friends including Paleface, Levy, and Graham Wilkinson & The Underground Township. The over four-hour show also acted as a benefit for the Aaron Wilkinson Memorial Playground in Texas, a tribute to Grahams brother and a good friend of Dawsons who died two years ago.
I dont know if the show felt exceptionally emotional because of the memorial aspect, or if its just Dawsons nature. Most of the time while she sang it sounded as if tears hung in her throat and that at any minute she might break down and cry. As far as I could tell she didnt, even when she sung Anthrax a powerful song about death, terrorism, 9/11 and fear, which she wrote for Aaron.
Seeing her live made the lyrics of her songs come out even more, as if she were making sure everyone listening really heard what she said. In the song Looselips she sings, And if you want to burn yourself, remember that I love you. And if you want to cut yourself, remember that I love you. And if you want to kill yourself, remember that I love you. Dawson also talked about being younger and who she was then verses being a mother now. This appropriately addressed the young crowd, which comprised mainly of teenage girls all saucer eyed and excitedly squeezed to the front of the stage, where Dawson herself watched most of the show. From the looks of it the people who attended the show, which stretched well beyond 1 a.m., came because they connected to Dawson as a musician and friend. Dawson has an energy surrounding her that not only invokes group bear hugs verbally, but her bright light-brown eyes and pillow-like body beg to be warmly embraced. Her personality also exuded tenderness as she often pleaded, in her soft voice, for people to come play with her on stage.
Made up of all sorts of different people the crowd was decidedly un-hip and turned out less packed like I had expected. I thought Dawsons rise in popularity after her contribution to the soundtrack for the movie Juno would have attracted more people. Maybe the fires have died down given Juno came out last winter and Dawson does not embody a rockstar mentality or change her music to fit into a popular mold. Kudos for her. Dubbed anti-folk, her songs feature detailed lyrics about real events and feelings that go beyond the he left me, I am sad, boo-hoo types. While she incorporates other instruments on her albums, for the concert Dawson stuck with her beautiful, childlike voice and the basic strumming of her guitar.
The show felt more like a personal get-together among friends rather then a full-blown concert. Dawsons openness to her mistakes and constant use of dirty words both in speech and song, made her tangible and human. While Dawson shushed the crowd from clapping along (because it had to much structured rhythm and threw her off key) she did lead them in a sing-a-long to I Like Bears, one of her new songs off the album Alphabutt, set to release September 9 on K Records. She played Alphabutt, Sunbeams and Some Beans, and Little Panda Bear, a tribute to her almost 2-year-old daughter, Panda. While the sound on these new songs remain pure Dawson, the lyrics have cleaner, more nursery-school language (only pee, poop and fart allowed) making it more kid friendly. Actually, the songs reminded me of seeing 80s singer Raffi with my grandmother when I was a wee lass. His bushy beard and songs about whales still haunt me to this daya roll I hope Dawson can fulfill for the current tiny-tot generation as she makes the shift from full-time musician to full-time mom.
Photo by Linnea Covington