Evenings in the Richmond always feel enchanting, with neon signs and string lights cutting through the drifting fog. Attending a show out at the 4 Star Theater only adds to this ambiance. The venue is a converted single-screen cinema, with 140 seats, a popcorn machine, and a record store in the lobby. It feels like a relic from simpler times dropped in a neighborhood that feels like a time capsule itself. There’s a magic there that’s easy to spot, but harder to put your finger on.
On Saturday, September 26, mildred, an Oakland band with four distinct singing and writing voices, sold out the 4 Star Theater for their first proper headlining show in the Bay. In April they released one of the best debut albums I’ve heard in ages, called Fenceline, which is dense with alt-country stylings, academic references, and spirit-lifting harmonies. The lyrics sound like the product of fantastic conversations, chock-full of references and turns of phrase that feel too textured to be coming from just one brain. Their first EP, mild, was the result of “living room sessions” among roommates “before and after dinner,” and that familiarity between the musicians remains clear on Fenceline. The four songwriters tell their stories with such detail that it transports you back into your own stories.
The show had an extended familial feel, with loads of people catching up in the aisles ahead of the set. I’d heard about the band from mutual friends, and it seemed like everyone in attendance was there via word of mouth. Henry Easton Koehler (vocals, guitar) told me after the show, “we’re used to bothering our friends and going through our Rolodexes to get them to come to shows,” but since the release of the album and its positive reception, “people who aren’t our friends are showing up who have already listened to our music. Which is nice.”
At the 4 Star on Saturday, the warmth and depth heard on the record seemed to expand on the stage. Tracks from Fenceline sounded rounder and fuller live, plus a flurry of new material gave us a glimpse at what the band has been cooking up lately. They chugged through the setlist, trading vocal duties back and forth, with patient breaks for tuning (“We tune because we care.”) and musings on thirteenth century thinkers from bassist Matt Palmquist after his beautiful delivery of “Aquinas.”
The highlight of the set belonged to Fenceline’s catchiest song by a country mile, “Fleet Week.” A swinging foot-tapper sung by guitarist Jack Schrott, the song is set in San Francisco, under roaring jet engines, and in the shadows of the aircraft carriers that accompany the Bay’s annual display of naval pomp and circumstance. The verses feel lived in, with descriptions of the city and modern anxieties that are immediately relatable to young adults across the Bay Area. The next day, I was still humming the song to myself in Berkeley when overhead, I heard a thunderous rumble and looked up to see some fighter plane practicing turns and showing its belly to the entire East Bay. It was just like Schrott had sung: Airplanes polluting in B-line patterns were a roaring noisy drill.
mildred’s music sounds like here and now, but they are also tapping into something that feels like everywhere, like always. The day after their biggest hometown show to date, the four bandmates got together to listen to recordings of the unreleased songs they’d played for us the night before. A standout, which came as the encore, is called “Offsides.” Sung by the drummer Will Fortna, it features a chorus that repeats: Don’t get your hopes up. Listening to this band, it’s hard not to.
mildred is opening for Frog at The Independent on October 23, which will be your last chance to catch them live in the Bay this year. If you’re attending, be sure to get there on time.
