Samia

“Pool,” the first track off Samia Najimy Finnerty’s debut LP, The Baby, opens with a voice memo of her grandmother singing her a lullaby in Arabic. It’s the same song that was brought back on her sophomore album, Honey, with “To Me It Was.” The second time around, her grandmother closes out the track with the same voice memo. Both songs are incredibly sad, an emotion that is central to the singer-songwriter’s music. “I wanted to keep her on both records. To me, that’s her producer tag or Jason Derulo moment.” Samia says.

Samia goes by just her first name, which she shares with her grandmother. Her grandmother is a huge part of her identity as a Lebanese-American. She’s been trying her best to hold on to her Lebanese heritage, and she found that her grandmother’s lullaby connected her with a community of people. “I didn’t have many Arabic-speaking or Lebanese friends growing up besides my cousins and I didn’t know that was such a popular lullaby,” she says. “It was amazing to see how universal that little lullaby is.”

Hocus Pocus star Kathy Najimy and director Dan Finnerty are Samia’s parents, and she grew up surrounded by the film industry. “I developed a disdain for the entertainment industry because of how it affects people — an image-oriented industry that made me sad,” she says, describing how she grew up. “I feel really lucky to have been around people who are artistic and people who encouraged me to be artistic.”

Because she grew up disillusioned by celebrities and industry politics, she’s found it hard to connect to her past. Recently, Samia’s been determined to stay in touch with Lebanese culture. “It was a huge part of my childhood,” she says of her heritage. “It’s something I’m trying desperately to hold on to, and I’d love to go back to Lebanon.”

Samia grew up in the New York City DIY scene, finding friends in bands like Del Water Gap and discovering herself through shows and open mic nights. “I started coming into my identity as an artist in New York because of the people that I was spending my time with and the bands that I got to be a part of,” she says. “That place is really conducive to that kind of odyssey. You have to find yourself back there.”

I meet Samia in the basement of Thalia Hall. Samia has a cold. There’s a humidifier in the corner of the green room turned on and a plate with ginger and lemons. She greets me from a distance, terrified I’m going to catch whatever ailment she has. First impressions are everything, and my first impression of Samia was that she’s unfathomably kind and super petite. She is also a powerhouse. Despite being sick, she puts on an incredible show. No one in the audience would have been able to tell had it not been for her Instagram story disclaimer asking the audience to pretend that everything is fine and that she’s totally not sick at all. “I know a lot of it is psychosomatic,” she tells me. “I get really anxious when I’m starting to be sick. So I just mostly try to calm myself down and then I end up being fine. I think a lot of it is in my head, ultimately.”

The Honey Tour is the first chance Samia has to support a full length project on tour. She released The Baby in 2020 during quarantine. Her latest record takes on a poppier sound than its predecessor, tackling relationship problems and referencing pop culture through slang and metaphors. Her conversational and elusive songwriting style takes center stage on Honey.

“It’s really just a means of catharsis for me,” she begins explaining her songwriting process. “I use it as a tool. It’s trying to process feelings in real time — half of me does that in poetic code and the other half is just the things that I’m too afraid to say conversationally.”

On “Kill Her Freak Out,” she sings about killing an ex’s new love interest. This could be off-putting to older generations, but her younger listeners are well attuned to Samia’s hyperboles. On “Sea Lions,” she’s harder to read, singing about a relationship that’s too far gone. Its outro is a voice memo of someone playing a word association game. “Charm You” and “Honey” find Samia being more direct, singing, “I don’t wanna charm anyone this time / I don’t wanna make anybody mine” and “I wanna go to the beach and die on the beach / I wanna be a mermaid.”

Her songwriting process is unpredictable. “It’s pretty 50/50,” she says. “There’s some songs on this record that took seven months to write and there are some songs that took 15 minutes. It depends on the magnitude of the feeling.”

Touring has led to great moments for Samia, both on and off the stage. She tells me her most memorable moment was in Minneapolis, where she invited papa mbye (who features on “Mad At Me”) on stage. Caleb Wright, her friend and collaborator who produced Honey, also came out with his family to watch the Minneapolis show. “That was a full circle moment,” she says. “It felt like a really special friendship moment and a lot of people who were on the record got to see it.”

She also stopped by Disneyland during touring with her brand and crew. An Instagram photo dump commemorates the trip with a caption insisting that there’s “nothing to see.” She tells me Disney is one of her favorite places to go. “It was kind of in the middle of a stressful time. So necessary.” she says.

What else does Samia do during her time off? The writer reads. Her most recent read is In The Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado, an author she adores. She describes the memoir as inspiring and devastating all at once. Next on her list is Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson.

For her next record, she’s hoping to turn towards a rock sound. She’s done slow and upbeat, and she’s ready to explore something new. “I’m really only ever trying to support the stories,” she says of her sound. “There’s no one genre choice, it just sort of happens. Next thing that I want to make is a rock record because I think it’s the most fun thing for me to tour.”

Samia is content in music. Making it, going on tour, even karaoke nights with her friends. To her, it’s all honey.

WORDS BY EMMIE STAFF ART BY KARLA PONCE

For someone that is prone to injury, I’ve miraculously escaped every concert unscathed. I am gifted at avoiding serious injuries at shows, whether that be a broken arm, nose, concussion or anything in between. This fact remained true at the second concert I ever attended, Sad Summerfest. My lack of concert experience did not prepare me for the seeming death sentence of crowdsurfing. I naively thoughtcrowdsurfingonlyexistedinmoviesanddidnotexpectthewavesofpeopleaboveme.Mylack of awareness and upper body strength did not help whatsoever. Around a total of six people hit me in someway,twopeoplealmostfellonmeandonepersonhitmyheadsohardthatIfellforwardontomy friend.IgenuinelythoughtthatIgotaconcussionfromthelastperson…butIsurvived!Afewweekslater,I wenttotheRockzillatourandwasrelievedtoseethattherewasnocrowdsurfing,butwhenPapaRoach jumped off stage and ran through the crowd during his set, I idiotically stood on top of my folding seat to watch. The seat folded in on my legs and I fell, with my nose knocking straight into my friend’s head.

There was lots of pain, some tears and a little bit of blood… but again I was fine! I am sincerely hoping that my concert survival skills (or just luck) carry with me into the future.

- Erica Kallas

When I was 15, I went to a Goldlink concert with a friend. We were bummed out when we realized the tickets we bought were for the balcony instead of the pit. I hatched the genius idea to Photoshop our tickets to show that we belonged as close as possible to the stage. With two different apps and painstaking editing work, our tickets now read “general admission.” We walked down and got to the first doorman. He scanned our tickets and said, “That’s strange, the scanner says balcony, but your tickets say GA.” A mix of convincing and general pushing forward into the venue allowed us to get away. Now we needed to get past the security for the pit. We walked up to have our tickets scanned, shaking in our boots. As the woman raised her scanner, a fight broke out between two girls next to us. They started pushing and shoving — we almost toppled over as they fell on us. The woman quickly ushered us in to protect us from the fight. There was another hop over a guardrail in order to get to the very front, but we successfully made it in and watched Masego and Goldlink.

- Mia Weisfeld

It was about a year ago when I had bought tickets to see Beach Bunny, a band I have been a fan of since they were labeled as emo instead of power pop. They were playing a near sold-out show at The Sylvee, a big jump from their last Madison appearance at the High Noon Saloon. The show was a blast — outside of having the girls in front of me yell at my friends and

I for jumping to the music (something that Lili Trifilio was begging the audience to do, which is one fault of their newfound TikTok fame). The show itself wasn’t where the story is, but rather my trip there is. My friend and I had plans to carpool, and when they got there to pick me up, I hopped in the backseat. We backed out of the parking space, and next thing I knew, there was a soft crunch followed by the back window caving in. It was a miracle no glass had landed on me despite shards covering the entire back of the car’s interior, which only reaffirmed my belief in God. While my friend drove their car back to their apartment, I figured out another ride for

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us. Luckily, we didn’t miss too much of Beach Bunny by the time we got there, but the trauma bonding made it even more worthwhile.

Camila Trimberger

Back in April 2022, I had the fortune of finally seeing Swedish rap collective Drain Gang in concert. To make things even sweeter, I was attending with my friend Tess who had never heard of them. After settling into a couple seats on the balcony (my ankle was broken, mosh impossible), I wrote down Tess’ predictions for each member of the group. Bladee was “a shy guy, he’s sensitive,” Ecco2k “all business, like the guy in anime who wears glasses” and Thaiboy Digital was “the rambunctious one, the fan favorite.” After quite the opening set from Varg (featuring the work of Soulja Boy), Drain Gang burst out onto the stage, going straight into fan favorite “Western Union.” The next hour or so was a blur of flashing lights, lo-fi instrumentals and hyper-energetic performances (especially from Ecco2k — if “business” means donning a pair of fuzzy wristbands and jumping up and down constantly, I need to switch my major) that whipped the crowd into a frenzy like I’ve never seen. And for Tess, who had gone in blind, a new obsession began. As the lights went down, she pledged her allegiance: “I’m gonna drain until I die. And then I’m gonna keep draining. And that’s all I have to say on that.” - Will Mandel

After walking 20 minutes on a bitterly cold Milwaukee night, I found myself in the oven-like Washroom, a basement venue where Scarlet Demore, Shoobie and Lunar Moth were playing. Every show is the same there: when the music plays, you hug the walls and watch the friends you came with be picked up by the cyclone of people who came to mosh. When the music is over, you follow the flow past the washing and drying machines and up the stairs to the frigid backyard, where people of all kinds are united by the strange geometric shape hastily drawn on their fists. Hot and cold, loud and quiet and spun by the pit, everyone comes together to make for a realistic washing machine experience. However, when you leave, you’re anything but clean. Nevertheless, this Washroom experience was special. During Shoobie’s set, the bassist took off his shirt and threw it in the crowd, which hit me directly in the face. What I thought was a giveaway turned out to be a reaction to the sweltering heat when I looked at

- Ian Johnson

the shirt and found it complete with ample stains and “The Present Age” printed on it. I kept it anyway. After a couple more wash cycles, I had my fill and started for home, double-shirted but still freezing.

In the fall of 2022, I decided at the last minute that I was going to go see Glaive at the Majestic in Madison. I knew two of his songs walking in, and I later learned that one of those songs he was only featured on. Nevertheless, I decided that this was a chance that wouldn’t come around again and I needed to take it. After one song, his mic cut out, leaving him onstage with no way for anyone to hear him. Instead of waiting for the techs to fix it, he screamed all the lyrics for the next 10 minutes and it was one of the most intense experiences I’ve had at a show. He didn’t let anything stop the show, and the fans LOVED it. The energy was off the wall and the mosh pit was just as unhinged. After a while, the mic started working again, and he finished his set with just as much energy and slightly bruised vocal cords. As if that wasn’t enough, he strapped a GoPro to his chest and did his encore in the middle of the pit. I’ve never seen the entire floor of the Majestic moving like a wave, but it was a wild experience and such a reward for taking a risk. Hyperpop does not disappoint.

- Mike Sonnenberg

My first concert ever was Tyler, The Creator’s Flower Boy Tour back in 2018. I had never gotten the chance to see Tyler, The Creator live even though I listened to his music for years and watched Loiter Squad as a kid. My dad dropped my friends and I at The Shrine in Los Angeles. There were so many people lined up, and the loops and barriers seemed never ending. Once Rex Orange County finished his opening set

(yikes), everyone started pushing toward the front. it was hot as hell, I was sweating balls and I was so thirsty. Thankfully, the staff started tossing water bottles, and I grabbed one. I took some sips and gave some to my friends. Then everyone started offering money to get a sip of this publicly shared water bottle.

The thing is, had they just asked I would’ve given them a sip, but my business student self took the money. I we all suffered together.

- Karla Ponce

made a total of $5 profit. Also, in the midst of the break, I made some cool friends, made it out alive and

After almost a year of anticipation, my friends and I were on our way to Chicago to see our lord and savior — Lorde. We planned to stay the weekend in a suburb where the hotels are cheaper and we picked Schaumburg, home of IKEA. We got to our hotel and there was a sign on the door that said you must be 21+ to check in, and we were but three silly 19-year-old girls. We nervously went up to the receptionist because we were desperate and needed a place to stay, and after a phone call between my friend’s mom and the manager, a trip to another hotel down the street that also denied us and a lot of anxious pacing, we were told it’s apparently Schaumburg city law that you have to be over 21 to check into a hotel. God forbid three 19-year-olds stay overnight in Schaumburg, Illinois. At this point, the concert starts in two hours and it’s rush hour on a Friday. We start heading toward the Chicago Theatre because we WILL be seeing Lorde. Anything for Lorde. We start calling hotels while navigating stopand-go traffic, and we end up booking a room down the street from the concert — confirming about 27 times that 19-year-olds CAN check in here. We arrive and it’s the fanciest hotel we have ever been in: our room is on the 20th floor with a gorgeous city view. An insane upgrade from the Radisson in Schaumburg, Illinois (double the price too, but I try to forget about that part). We made it just in time for Lorde, who was amazing and life-changing. Lorde if you’re reading this please come to Madison next time. Love you, xo.

- Lexi Spevacek

The first time I saw Alex G live, he was cheeky as hell. After he downed a few drinks between songs, someone standing near me wished him a happy birthday. It stuck — he was crowned the Majestic’s beloved birthday boy. We all sang “Happy Birthday” to him, and he went on a drunken tangent about his new age, adding in that it was also recently his son’s 12th birthday. It was not his birthday, and he did not have a son (PinkPantheress definitely wrote “Boy’s a liar” about him). After a charismatic set speckled with crowd requests and more elaborate lies, the birthday boy remained on stage to talk to those of us who were at the front of the pit. I asked him to sign the only thing I had in my pocket (a Pokémon card), and then he immediately slipped it into his pocket, smudging it in the process, and wandered away to steal it. Of course, I pleaded with him, and my Limited Edition Alex G Signed Togepi Card: Smudged Edition (RARE!!!) still sits in my phone case today. Sorry, Alex! - Amelia Zollner of (but, really, everyone’s heard of it). My first time there was last summer in 2022. I had previously only seen YouTube videos and livestreams of the event, my personal favorite being Charli XCX’s

2019 performance. It seemed like a huge event — it’s really not, especially when I’ve been to

Summerfest in the past and, recently, South by Southwest. Regardless, it wasn’t necessarily how close I was to The National or dancing with photographers and security to CupcakKe that stuck with me, it was the press tent. Yes, it’s true: I was at Pitchfork to cover the event. When I first entered the press tent with Rory (it was mostly to take cover from the rain because the only protection I had was a plastic bag wrapped around my head), we both panicked. There were a good number of people there, and we knew no one. ‘Start a conversation with someone,’ Rory and I decided. Right as this was agreed upon, I made eye contact with a lady in her 30s with a very big camera and blurted out “Hi!” Her response was to shout, “Do I KNOW you?” at me. I was horrified. Rory and small talk with the Pitchfork crowd ever again. </3 - Amany Khreis

After long awaited anticipation, my friend and I bought concert tickets for the artistic genius that is Playboi Carti. Carti was scheduled to perform at the Rave in Milwaukee during our Thanksgiving break. While I was in Chicago, my friend made the courageous decision to book a flight into O’Hare from Missouri. I dropped $50 on gas and we embarked on our 90-minute drive up to Wisconsin. I need to remind you that concert parking is a DEVIL CHILD. I decided to gamble and parked in the McDonald’s lot. I figured, ‘How would they know?’ It seems like other concertgoers were doing the same, so why couldn’t I? After taking care of that, we made our way to the line, which stretched far and wide — but we didn’t care. It was 12 degrees and we had no coats — but we didn’t care. We waited for 45 minutes until we heard commotion stirring at the front of the line. Bewildered, we looked at each other. The guard screamed: “Everyone go home! Show is over, Carti isn’t coming.” You’re kidding. You have got to be kidding me! My friend started tearing up. I started laughing because of course this would happen! So we screamed bloody murder and cursed our luck and took the walk of shame back to the car. As we got back to the McDonald’s parking lot, we saw a beautiful tow truck cleaning up all the cars in the lot. He was working on one car and my car was the only one left. Perhaps this was sheer luck or God was looking out for me. Either way, we got into that car ASAP and bid the day farewell. We didn’t see Carti, but hey, I didn’t get my car towed. I guess it’s all about perspective.

I began laughing in disbelief, and I buried my face in my plastic bag. I would never try to make SPRING 2023/39

- Weronika Durachta