The author, Michelle Zauner, and friends at Instead Feminist Coop in 2016
Michelle Zauner (Japanese Breakfast) performing for the author and friends at Instead Feminist Coop in 2016 Nick Dinatale

First came the pineapple. Then the pomelo. Onion, plum, and some weird gourd right after. People were paying tribute to their queen, Fruit Queen, also known as Japanese Breakfast. Michelle Zauner’s beloved indie project played to a sold out Neptune Theater last night in support of her recent-ish sophomore album Soft Sounds From Another Planet. I truly have no idea why a group of people decided to give Zauner a veritable Fuck Ton of fruit in the middle of her set—is it because she covered The Cranberries?

I first saw Japanese Breakfast at a sweaty house show held in a feminist co-op at the women’s college I attended. My best friend Elizabeth organized the whole thing through the radio station I helped run. The stage was really just one corner of a small living room, the audience shoved in wherever we could fit around the setup. In spite of the cramped conditions, Zauner didn’t shy away from rocking out, turning the living room into a raucous dance party, jumping around with us all. Zauner herself is an alum of a women’s college and spoke about how she always wanted to play at one. We were all aware of how fucking cool that show and moment were to us and it made me a huge “JBrekkie” fan.

I went with my 17-year-old sister, Jade, to this Japanese Breakfast concert. It was her third (!) ever show—I wanted to be that cool older girl I’d always dreamed of befriending when I was a teen knocking around town, even though lowkey I’m still waiting to meet her. I confidently marched across intersections, deftly blocked Jade from anyone that might catcall her, and taught her how to weave her way to the stage. Considering my previous Japanese Breakfast experience, I was surprised by the relatively dude-heavy crowd, though it was definitely a better mix than some other shows I’ve been to recently. It makes it easier to get closer to the stage—I gave a tight smile and made my “excuse me” sound more like “girls to the motherfucking front!” I told Jade to not be afraid to push her way to where she needs to be. Crowd advice, life advice.

We arrived in time to catch the tail end of the opener, Montreal band Ought. Between sets, Jade and I ate tons of popcorn and tried to furrow our way closer to the front. In stark contrast to her casually dressed bandmates, Zauner came out wearing a sheer dress made of mesh and gold foil, hair tied into two space buns with orange-red eyeshadow smeared across her eyelids. She really embodied the mood of her album cover, appearing to us all as some Björk-inspired space age explorer. The band opened with “Diving Woman,” the first track on their second album which really set the tone for the fuzzy, hardcore, and atmospheric night ahead. The JBrekkie catalog consists of only two albums, which allows for an hour-and-fifteen-minute set full of all the hits, all the bangers.

The band always looks like they’re having a lot of fun, flamboyantly jamming out but always with a grin that lets you know they aren’t taking themselves too seriously. During “The Woman That Loves You,” Zauner bounced around the stage playing up the drama and seriousness of the song, singing like I do when I’m in the car alone. With “Boyish,” Zauner’s voice crooned, lofting its way up to the balcony of the theater. The fruit-giving occurred right before her ballad “Till Death,” where she cradled the weird gourd and sang to it like it was a loved one.

What makes Japanese Breakfast so special, what makes Zauner so special, is her ability to fasten grief, loss, and heartbreak to pop music that’s full of life, and, most importantly, completely engaging. From the fast-paced to the slow songs in her set, I barely noticed the crowd around me—everyone’s eyes were fixated on Zauner’s movements around the stage. One moment she was scrunched up, bellowing into the microphone, the next, every limb was straining in a different direction, her voice airy and light. She writes, performs, and draws from a place of vulnerability that is totally personal but not impermeable—everyone is invited to sing and dance along. This is her strength and what makes her such a great performer and musician.

After her last song, the band barely teased the audience before coming out again for their final encore. Toward the end of “Machinist,” Zauner attempted to climb over the crowd control barrier but got sort of stuck. The security guard next to me freaked out and rushed over to help but Zauner got up unfazed and deftly leaped back on stage, waving goodbye to everyone. As the house lights came back on, Jade and I were as starry-eyed as everyone else. Though I was in a crowd with hundreds of other people, the intimacy and spontaneity of her set made it seem like I was back at Elizabeth’s little house show.

Jas Keimig is a former staff writer at The Stranger, where they covered visual art, film, stickers, and culture.