Becky and the Birds—the electronic pop solo project of Swedish artist Thea Gustafsson—puts on a performance that could fill the space of outdoor arena but feels like an intimate bedroom show. Literally: at the front end of the cramped and sweaty back room of Night Club 101 on July 23, she sits atop a makeshift bed, complete with custom blankets, sheets, and a nearby “bedside table” that hosts all her DJ equipment. In the soft glow of the single warm light, Gustafsson led the crowd in a chill, friends-only dance party—a perfect night out for the cult following she amassed in this city.

The evening began with a brief opening set by, Maiya Blaney, a local DIY artist who falls along the cutting edge of experimental rock, garage, shoegaze, and punk. Promoting her sophomore record A Room With A Door That Closes, she was joined by her band, a drummer and electronic DJ who wowed the crowd with the live mixing of her vocals and guitar with the shimmery, frenetic garage beats and samples that define her album’s sound. Blaney is soft-spoken and charming when switching between tracks and talking to the crowd, but while singing, she is a powerhouse, using every breath to pierce through the cutting, textured soundscapes of her music with wither a low, emotive growl, a strong, cathartic scream, or a high-pitched, ghostlike whisper. For those who like a delicate balance between gritty and frail, classic garage beat mixing with the occasional recognizable sample, and introspective lyrics that pour like honey over the noise, then Maiya Blaney is one to watch.

Becky and the Birds continued on the theme of dazzling electronica, as her background in writing and producing house music informs her current ethereal, lof-fi, and occasionally EDM sound. Embarking on her first tour ever before she moves to LA, she admits, she beamed with excitement, knowing that the people in the crowd were almost certainly dedicated fans. Thus, she began with one of her oldest songs, “Malaysia,” an eerie, autotune-heavy track she released in her 2018 debut self-titled record. It was a perfect introduction to both the set and the next song, as its minimal instrumentation—subdued to bring people’s attention to her wispy, shrieking vocals—begins to flicker with a dance-y, house beat before going totally quiet. It’s also a cute reference to her stage name, as its lyrics long to escape to the country of Malaysia, a place filled with beautiful birds flying freely in the skies. From the first song on the setlist, the audience was transported to Gustafsson’s dream world: a fantastical realm of dreams, open air, longing, and freedom.

Sitting atop her bed, Gustafsson then began to flaunt her masterful DJ skills. “Should Have Known Better” was the first dance track on the setlist, seamlessly gluing hip-hop and R&B samples with a Eurodance-y accordion beginning, EDM flourishes, thick basslines, and a pumping house beat. The high energy and glittery music continued throughout the night, as Becky and the Birds selected tracks from all over her discography—the first-ever songs she’s produced, the singles from her most recent record Only music makes me cry now, and a couple of unreleased tracks that will appear on her upcoming, nearly-finished album. Watching her interact with her diehard fans felt endearing; at one point, she dedicated the song “Elsa 4-ever” to a fan who travelled from out-of-state to see her, switching the name of her girlfriend to the fan’s. Outside her moody, introspective performances, Gustafsson was bubbly and approachable, simply excited to perform in the United States for the first time in front of her cult following—who also added to the overall experience of a cozy house party with their knowledge of the whole set and enthusiasm for each track.

Perhaps the way to understand Becky and the Birds best is by looking at her titular track, “Only music makes me cry now.” The lyrics—dealing with the aftermath of a crushing breakup and finding acceptance with a new, single reality—are simple yet cutting, repeating the same three stanzas about growing exhausted with the cycle of love and heartbreak. Amplifying these thoughts is the gradual crescendo of vocal layering, building and building until Gustafsson’s singular, non-autotuned vocals become a whole crying chorus, reverberating violently against the walls of the room. That’s what I got away with this performance: though I know electronic music has its roots in pleasure—becoming the staple soundtrack to parties, raves, and dance clubs—it can also be a tool to magnify the smallest, most intimate parts of oneself. Her live manipulation of vocals, samples, beats, and more functions almost like a whirlpool, sucking in the chaos of the modern world and throwing it back out as a package of hurt, love, joy, and frustration. Becky and the Birds makes her personal thoughts feel larger than life, and her pristine production skills allow the audience to directly connect with her. The performance at Night Club 101 truly was something special.

Becky and the Birds Live at Night Club 101, New York, NY July 23 2025 photo by Bobby Nicholas III

Words by Victoria Borlando; photos by Bobby Nicholas III.