It was the summer of my parents’ divorce. I was living with my (now) single mother in a tiny house just big enough for the two of us. I had almost gone no contact with my father. While all of these thoughts swirled in my mind, I would sit in my room listening to Phoebe Bridgers for hours on end. Was it the best thing for my mental health? Probably not, but the music got me through it. Every bit of me clung to Bridgers’ music as she vocalized her complicated relationship with her father. And with every lyric, every line, it felt as though she was speaking directly to me. About my life.
My emotional connection with Phoebe Bridgers’ music was only strengthened when I saw her open for Taylor Swift in Nashville last year. I was in the nosebleeds – the only seats I could afford. When Phoebe came out, I was the only one standing up in my section. With no time to record, I passed my phone off to my boyfriend. I knew I would want to go back and relive this moment later. I kept my emotions intact throughout her set. That is, until she got to “Scott Street”.
“Scott Street” itself is a deep track. Her performance of it is five minutes and five seconds of pure art. In the song, Phoebe describes herself (presumably) catching up with someone she used to love. The song perfectly encapsulates the lonely feeling you get when you realize you have grown apart from someone you once shared every moment your life with. She begs this person to answer her question, “Do you feel ashamed when you hear my name?”. The question is followed by a haunting instrumental. She ends the song woefully singing, “Anyway, don’t be a stranger”. Except she already knows that this person is a stranger to her now and there is absolutely nothing in the world that she can do to fix it.
Though “Scott Street” is likely about an ex, I have always taken the lyrics and applied them to my broken relationship with my absent father. He would often say “don’t be a stranger” to me when hanging up the phone then go months without calling. So naturally, tears came streaming down my cheeks the second I heard the first few guitar strums in “Scott Street” play over Nissan Stadium. In that moment, it felt as though it was only Phoebe and I in that stadium. All of a sudden, I was transported back to my bedroom that summer. When it was only her and I at 3am.
I screamed every lyric through my tears at that show. Now when I watch the video my boyfriend made of the performance, all I can hear is my off-key singing through sobs. But I still listen to it from time to time because it moves me every time I watch it. If you look closely enough, you can see Phoebe on stage; as small as an ant from the nose bleeds. When the camera pans over, you see a teenage girl healed by her music.
A girl who has finally realized her own self worth.
I completely understand what you mean by being healed by music. Music can be such a therapeutic thing when it comes to the way we feel. I feel like most people tend to gravitate towards music when we feel alone and confused. We can sometimes find an artist that perfectly encapsulates what we need in that exact moment. Also, not all music was designed to make us happy. Some music was specifically designed with the intention to make us hurt. It’s kind of funny though that the music that typically hurts the most is the most healing.
From one Phoebe lover to another, this song is incredible. You were so lucky to get Phoebe and possibly Boy Genius at your Eras Tour show. There’s something so nostalgic within the songs of Stranger in the Alps that play with the listers’ emotions. There are some songs on that album that I can’t even listen to because they hit too hard.
Another great performance of Phoebe that I think about all the time was her performing I Know The End on SNL. The way she smashes her guitar in the end is so cathartic.