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This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Utah chapter.

A couple of weeks ago, musical talent, dodie, graced The Depot in downtown Salt Lake with a concert that left me feeling awestruck. I have been a fan of dodie, also known as doddleoddle on YouTube, for quite a few years now. So naturally, when she announced her tour dates and I saw Utah grouped in with the rest of the lucky states, I knew I had to go. The night of the concert, my best friend and I rolled up ready to feel all the feelings. We bonded over dodie and the way she rips her heart out, plasters it in her lyrics, and sews it into her melodies. Needless to say, we went in expecting tears to be shed.

We took our seats as the opener (Adam Melchor) started his set, settling into a nice balcony view. We listened, unexpectedly awed by dodie’s opening act. He performed a beautiful acoustic set, calming the crowd and setting the tone for the main event. 

Finally, after a hearty chorus of Call Me Maybe by pop icon Carly Rae Jepson, the lights dimmed and we (the crowd) proceeded to lose our collective mind. Dodie’s band walked on stage first, one by one, falling into place, until finally, dodie herself walked up to the mic. She started off with one of my personal favorites, Arms Unfolding, a dissonant, harmonious, a capella piece that immediately captured our (albeit already undivided) attention. The venue fell silent as dodie and her band hummed their way through a song about healing wounds and new beginnings, a perfect metaphor for what was about to unfold.

The last echoes of the opening song died out and the band immediately went into one of dodies most popular songs, Monster. This song is, how you say, a goddamn bop; and the crowd was, unsurprisingly, very into the groove. Dodie danced along with us, bobbing her head and bouncing around the stage, and her band matched her energy. They transitioned into another gem, Human, following with a switch of instrument. Dodie made her way to the piano and gave a short little speech, stuttering unabashedly over her words, all the while melting my sensitive heart. If I’m Being Honest, a plunky piano track about having an all-powerful, usually terrible Crush. This seamlessly led into 6/10, which garnered a frenzy of tears as we all collectively sobbed the final lyrics, “a nod of pity for the plain girl.”

 

Dodie switched things up again, moving along to an acoustic guitar to pluck out the simple notes of Sick of Losing Soulmates. This song is already a beautiful ode to past lovers (or honestly friends) in the polished, studio version. This song live, however, is a completely different, more visceral experience. Dispersed between dodie and her band were strands of lights that flickered on and off with the drums, which are implemented only in the live version. The combination of lighting and percussion amplified the already intense lyrics and brought a depth to the song. 

As I sat frozen, trying to lift my jaw up from the ground, dodie went back to the piano, sitting comfortably on the stool, and spoke to everyone a bit about her mental health as a prelude to Not What I Meant and Secret For the Mad, Burned Out, and When. All four of these songs allude to different emotional strains and hard feelings that dodie so eloquently puts into words. She writes about mental health in a vulnerable, relatable way, without romanticizing or sugarcoating mental illness. My personal favorite, and the song I sobbed hardest to, was Secret For the Mad. This song was a nice, gentle nudge out of a very dark place; to hear it live, sung by a group of people who were, very obviously, affected by dodies message, was validating and beautiful to experience. 

 

After finishing up the Mental Health portion of the concert, dodie shifted gears, lighting up the stage and jumping straight into You, a bouncy little number that you genuinely will not want to end. Dodie then goes into a beautiful rendition of She, a tender, soft spoken LGBTQ+ anthem. She keeps the energy up with her final, before the encore, pop song, Guiltless, that tricks you into believing the lyrics aren’t about childhood trauma, as you bop and dance the pain away. After the last loop of isolated vocals echoed through the hall, the lights went out and dodie and gang rushed offstage, as the crowd started the obligatory “encore” chant.

Dodie’s encore was one giant party. She started off with Boys Like You, which was released just three days prior to the concert. Everyone at the concert seemed to take that as a challenge, as the crowd sang her lyrics back to her with complete confidence. It’s not hard to get on board with a song about f*ckboys. She continued into Would You Be So Kind and, finally, In the Middle, as bright, vibrant lights flooded the stage. 

As I walked out of the venue, trying to process the flood of emotions that just passed through me, I was reminded of why music is so important; it brings people together. Live music is an outlet for people to come together and feel less alone. 

Photo Credit: 1- personal photos, 2

Rachael Jenkins is a junior at the University of Utah.
Her Campus Utah Chapter Contributor