Maggie Rogers

The girl whose NYU showcase performance left Pharrell speechless

Maggie Rogers

Overcoats

Mon, March 27

Doors: 8:00 pm / Show: 9:00 pm

Doug Fir Lounge

Portland, OR

This event is 21 and over

Maggie Rogers
Maggie Rogers
Dear listening ears/reading eyes,
For a long time I’ve introduced myself as a banjo player from the Eastern Shore of Maryland. I’m a hiker and an environmentalist. I’m an optimist. I’m loud.
I’m still those things, but I went quiet for a few years. I cut my long hair short. I got a cat named Cat Stevens. I fell in love. I moved to New York, to France, and back.
Inevitably, I found my space in the place between knowing who I was and finding out who I am.
I’m a producer, songwriter, and performer from Brooklyn. I’m an optimist. I’m a feminist. I’m loud when I laugh. I’m freckled. I love my old jeans. I love pink eye-shadow. I cry when I dance sometimes. I feel a lot, maybe too much, but in a song it always seems to be just enough.
The thing about songs is that no matter how far away I go, or how long I stay away, they always seem to find me. And as wild and unpredictable as they are, I’ve learned to trust them. I write to feel and sing ‘til I feel a new way.
I love the music most when it makes me feel human. Feet on the ground, soft hair, standing with my friends and in three parts, singing. Feet off the ground, hair wild, moving to that perfect pulse that mimics your beat and mine.
Sometimes I think it’s magic – this thing we can’t see, but makes us all feel the same way. When it’s real, it raises hair and makes the air taste sweeter.
I want to make music forever. I want to tell the truth. I want to know how it feels to make the best art I’m capable of making.
I can’t promise I won’t change or that I won’t fall in love with new people or ideas that’ll change the way I see the world, but I can promise to be me.
To be present. To be open.
To be messy. To be flawed.
To be human.
And of that, I won’t let you down.
x Maggie
Overcoats
Overcoats
Overcoats is the New York-based female duo of Hana Elion and JJ Mitchell. Their debut album YOUNG captures a sound rich in minimalism and melody: songs of connection and tension, on the depths of love and challenges of family.

Overcoats’ music draws strength from vulnerability, finding light through darkness, and the catharsis of simple, honest songwriting. YOUNG is about a transformation: the passage into womanhood, sung through the shared experience of two best friends.

On their first single "Hold Me Close" Hana and JJ’s melodies are purity in unison, providing two distinct but entwined perspectives on the complexity of love. In their words, “the song is about finding solace in the present when the future and past seem impossible to understand. It’s about loneliness and disillusionment that we can feel in relationships, and how we must persevere anyway in hopes of finding the beauty in love.”

Elion and Mitchell were drawn to each other when they first met in 2011, finding connection in their diverse love of music and an immediate closeness that verges on sisterhood. Their meeting was transformative emotionally as well as creatively. Both halves of Overcoats describe the first time hearing each other sing as an epiphany: the harmony of their voices leading to personal, individual discovery. This bond forms the foundation of Overcoats, and it fills the ecosystem of YOUNG with its stunning sound and sentiment.

Album opener “Father” unfurls in clouds of three-dimensional sound: a cathedral of echo over waves of delay and the din of incidental noise. There is a rare resonance in Overcoats evident from these opening tones: between their separate (but inseparable) voices, flawlessly intuitive performance, and sublime musical production. Their harmonies slide from brassy to silken with elegant ease, floating over muted rhythms wrapped in lush swells of synthesizers.

YOUNG was written by Overcoats and co-produced by Nicolas Vernhes (Daughter, The War On Drugs, Dirty Projectors, Cass McCombs) and experimental R&B artist Autre Ne Veut, with additional production from Myles Avery and mixing by Ben Baptie (Lapsley, Lianne La Havas, Lady Gaga, Mark Ronson).

Their palette is stealth and simple electronics, with traces of folk, pop, and bluegrass embedded within. Like a spectrum from Sylvan Esso to Simon & Garfunkel, Overcoats creates music deeply rooted in emotion, and guided by the search for its innate expression through voice and electronics. Songs that began as bedroom creations flourished into rich but restrained productions, with careful craft illuminating the nuance of Overcoats’ unique songwriting.

On YOUNG, Overcoats creates music of mutual empowerment, at once synthetic and organic, wistful and uplifting, triumphant and subdued.

“The Fog” is a bay of lonesome, oscillating synth chords: its boundaries defined by the reflection of echoic finger snaps. Elion and Mitchell find clarity through a lovers’ haze, their stoic verses liberated by resounding chorus: Freedom is when I’m without you / When the fog lifts I’m the only one I see.

“Leave The Light On” layers looped and transposed vocals over thumping two-step 808 and punctuations of club-ready brass. Showing the true breadth of influence, songs like “Little Memory” and “Smaller Than My Mother” are laced with gospel and jazz, strands woven in with Vernhes’ and Autre Ne Veut’s natural touch.

YOUNG has a clear, vertical ambience that lets the topical vibration of the music shine through. This is the arrival of a magical collaboration: a rare unification of two hearts under one imagination. Elion and Mitchell are bound by absolute belief in one another, and the confidence that every creation is compelled by shared purpose.

Like its arc of transformation, from “Father” to album closer “Mother,” Overcoats captures the notion that we are the intersections of our parents’ greatest fantasies and biggest follies. YOUNG is a startlingly wise portrayal of these complexities: of love, on inspiration, and the legacy of family.