by Frances McPheely
You wish! You were! Like her! shouted the mosh pit, just before shoving a silver-haired, ski-sweatered man to the edge of illuminati hotties’ stage. The October 21st concert at Baltimore’s Ottobar brought together the city’s soft-mulleted undergrads, the thirty-somethings in Patagonia softshells and hiking boots, and the children-at-heart seniors. They all share two affinities: beer, and headbanging alongside illuminati hotties’ Sarah Tudzin.
LA’s illuminati hotties formed in 2018 and opened their first ever solo headline tour on October 14th, 2022. The band is comprised of Sarah Tudzin (lead vocals and electric guitar), Sapphire Jewell (electric guitar and backing vocals), Zach Bilson (bass and backing vocals), and Tim Kmet (drums). They call themselves the tenderpunk pioneers, writing songs with sardonic lyrics — a cornerstone of the punk genre — but pairing them with fast-paced instrumentals that are softer than their punk inspirations, perhaps the reason behind their appeal to the older demographic.
illuminati hotties took the stage at 8 p.m., while their PBR-sipping audience talked lightly, with the occasional wooo! cutting through. It wasn’t until Tudzin strummed the first chord on her lightwood Fender Telecaster that the crowd drew closer to the small stage, and by the second sharp strum, hair was bouncing and beer was dribbling down the sides of cans.
The opening song was “Joni: LA’s No. 1 Health Goth,” from their 2021 release, Let Me Do One More. The lyrics were buried beneath heavy drums and two guitars, but it didn’t matter to illuminati hotties’ biggest fans — they knew the words, they needed only instrumental cues. Besides, they didn’t come to sway in awe of Tudzin’s live vocals, but to scream the songs they dance to before their bedroom mirrors or headbang to as they coast down I-83. At Ottobar they enjoyed this music in the same ways, only this time with welcome company. This was the night Ottobar became a teenager’s bedroom; the eighty or so people may as well have been belting into hairbrushes.
Not all in attendance listened rambunctiously. The undecipherable lyrics seemed to alienate new or casual listeners who, during the first couple of songs, moved to stand along the walls for the rest of the night and wore less excited expressions, but offered polite applause after each song. Tudzin partially made up for this disconnect with her charm and personability. Most of the night she stood on the tips of her toes, lips (or tongue, when sticking out) touching the mic. She went through her rolodex of exaggerated expressions to match the tone of every moment in every song and fell around the stage during her guitar solos. Tudzin knows what works for her, and she played into the awkwardness.
The first spoken words from Tudzin didn’t come until a few songs in, when she said, “What’s up Baltimore? Thanks for coming tonight!” and then followed it up with a more on-brand comment: “We almost got runned over by a car walking back from dinner.” The audience responded with cheers. Tudzin reached for the beer can that sat beside her mic stand, walked towards the drum kit, took a few sips, and came back only to burp into her microphone. This received even louder cheers, which prompted Tudzin to jump right into the next song.
Most of the tracks illuminati hotties played came from last year’s Let Me Do One More. The songs that excited the crowd most were “MMMOOOAAAAAYAYA,” “(You’re Better) Than Ever,” and “u v v p.”
Throughout the show, audience members pulled their phones out to take videos, slowly panning the crowd before settling on the stage where Tudzin would be climbing onto a speaker or pulling a finger gun out from the pocket of her overalls. To the fans, the band was not the only thing to watch. The way each person in the room functioned as a unit was just as important, and just as worthy of an Instagram story.
The more audible vocals came later in the night. They were delivered softly, sung as if in slow motion, with lyrics silly yet somber, and quite specific; reminiscent of those by Kimya Dawson, like, “Do you think we could make a deli run? The corner store’s selling spit bottled up for profit, I can’t believe I’m buying in,” from “Threatening Each Other re: Capitalism.” It was in these moments that the band finally implemented more effective dynamics: Tudzin emphasized the lyricism in her soft singing, and the other band members added to this with slow strums and gentle drumming, before they suddenly returned to their typical fast-paced, drum-heavy, slurred-word style.
What remained consistent throughout the night was the band’s purpose in playing — illuminati hotties didn’t take the stage to be watched, but rather to belt their songs in a chorus of eighty people. Scream-singing as one, they create a surprising atmosphere: illuminati hotties’ audience members are unlike fans of the band’s contemporaries. Concertgoers didn’t put the performers on a pedestal. There were no voice-cracking shouts of I love you! at Tudzin, or any overexcited hyperventilation that other soft-rock artists like Phoebe Bridgers or King Princess often see in their crowds.
It wasn’t until the band left the stage that the audience showed any signs of worship, as fans (of all ages) clamored to grab the three setlists laying where the illuminati hotties once stood; and it turned out that perhaps, though good at hiding it, the audience was star-struck after all.
