Piercing the softest spot of relationships seems to be Nashville singer-songwriter Madi Diaz’s specialty, zooming into the moments that are often left unspoken in a way that reads so bare it’s painful. Clear, resonant, and full, Diaz’s voice sounds made for her writing, the perfect blend for delivering her precisely simple observations of the most complex emotions. Acoustic guitar in hand and a drummer/keyboardist behind her, Diaz played an incredibly thoughtful set of songs at the historic Troubadour in West Hollywood this past week to share songs, including many from her most recent record, Weird Faith.
I had heard of the Nashville singer-songwriter through a few of her songs, and had been religiously listening to her recent release “Don’t Do Me Good,” which she recorded with her friend and fellow Nashville singer/songwriting star Kacey Musgraves. To say I was floored after hearing the rest of Diaz’s material is almost an understatement.
Diaz’s songs lyrically often feel like the emotional pinnacle of a sad song, but loaded and unleashed repeatedly. Diaz started off the night with “Same Risk,” a recent single, asking the subject of the song, “Do you think this could ruin your life? ‘Cause I could see it ruinin’ mine,” a question that says everything it needs to, in the exact order it needs to be asked. “’Cause I’m standing here naked sayin’ you could have it all,” she continued. In “Everything Almost,” Diaz sang, “I had a dream there was a baby inside of mе, one hand on my belly and the othеr one pointing, ordering you around the house like a bitch and you just laughing and taking it,” immediately followed by “and then I think about my parents and what if they’re not here to see it?” — a whiplash of self-aware, wholesome hilarity paired with anxiously pondering family death.
In “For Months Now,” Diaz sang, “I’m tired of playing down all good stuff … you’re gonna hate me when it happens, keeping a secret and I’m not proud. I’ve been leaving you for months now,” as she unravels the thoughts of someone hanging onto something that’s only bad for them.
A highlight of the night, “Don’t Do Me Good” showed Diaz flexing her vocals. In the climax of the chorus, she sounded even more powerful than the recording, singing, “Every time I wake up crying, I’m denying what I should. I know loving you, it don’t do me good.”
As an extended outro, Diaz concluded the song repeating a line from Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes’ “If You Don’t Know Me By Now,” singing, “if you don’t know me you by now, you will never know me.” It’s hauntingly touching, and gives the song the space it needs to melt further into the audience’s heart and psyche.
During the encore, special guest Lennon Stella (an actress from the musical-drama series Nashville) joined Diaz onstage to sing “One Less Question,” complete with pitch-perfect harmonies. Diaz then played “New Person, Old Place” off of her previous record, History of a Feeling. “You used to be able to dictate each feeling inside my head, drag me through every trauma over and over again. ‘Cause if I was crazy then I’d still be yours.”
She finished the show with “Weird Faith,” an incredibly fitting closer to the night. Through the process of digging up the worst parts of being a human in Diaz’s lyrics, I felt like I had spent the night mentally picking up the pieces of debris that scatter when we collide with the worst parts of other humans. But humans are also who help us heal. And Diaz ended the show explaining the only way to get there: “I could protect myself from everybody else, or I could wait and have a little faith.”