Wednesday holds a different kind of service in the First Unitarian Church sanctuary

“Who’s been crying lately?” It was a rhetorical question asked by Cryogeyser’s Shawn Marom, but it felt a bit more like a premonition of what was to come when Wednesday’s Karly Hartzman kicked off her solo tour at the First Unitarian Church Sanctuary on Sunday. Side by side in pews, hundreds of people sat vigil and listened to the Wednesday gospel. Both Hartzman and opener Cryogeyser took this solo opportunity to try out new music, since they didn’t have to worry about teaching the band any of the new material. 

Hartzman’s set wasn’t just unreleased songs; she played some tried and true tracks, like “Chosen to Deserve” and “How Can You Live If You Can’t Love How Can You If You Do.” She told a story about someone in “Chosen to Deserve,” saying the story has since evolved. The girl who initiated the Benadryl-taking mentioned in the song wasn’t ever really on social media, and the two hadn’t spoken since her freshman year of high school. When Googling her, Hartzman expected some sort of obituary, or a pregnancy announcement, but found nothing until recently, when the girl hit her up late on a weeknight to go get drinks. Hartzman, shocked to hear that this person was even alive, tells us she was even more shocked to hear the girl was in law school.

She says her bandmates make fun of her for writing about the same things, singing a little tune they made up that goes, “I guess that’s just what it’s like in the South.” Maybe her stories are specific to her growing up in the South, but they’re also pretty universally relatable. “Chosen To Deserve” especially, which hits on topics like drugs and sex and doing both things too young, and maybe in ways we aren’t proud of.

The Church Sanctuary is a terribly vulnerable place. There’s no bar, no background noise. It’s just a large audience, sitting and staring and waiting for you to perform. This vulnerability wasn’t unacknowledged during Wednesday’s set. It was right before the last track of the night, “Bull Believer,” when Hartzman kindly requested no one film. She coordinated with the venue beforehand to turn off all the lights for this one song, but made it clear that if anyone was uncomfortable with it, the lights would go back on. The scream-heavy track usually is her therapy, but she never does it alone. So what usually is cathartic, was actually a little scary. With cheers and encouragement from the crowd now shrouded in shadows, she proceeded with the end of the show. 

So, has anyone been crying lately? Something in the final two minutes of “Bull Believer” took me to a place where the answer to that question was a resounding yes. I’m not sure if it was the lights, the quiet church filled with guttural screams, or just that it was a long day. As I got up to leave, I saw the people in the pew behind me wiping their faces, catching their breath. It was a Sunday service of a different sort, equally spiritual and liberating.