Abigail Fierce: There is no other way

It’s January 13, 2023, and Abigail Fierce’s new single I Just Wanna Feel Okay Again was released today. It’s a singer/songwriter’s solemn anthem if there ever was one. Her clear voice tells the story of unsettled emotions – not only of the post-pandemic Gen Z variety but also the sadness of the intrepid artist whose intense perceptions forbid simplicity of thought. 

A good song is authentic to the songwriter while relatable to almost everyone, and that’s what we have here. 

“The first person I always play my songs for is my mom. I wrote this song shortly after both of her parents, my grandparents, passed away, within 19 days of each other,” said Abigail. “So yeah, it was a hard time. And as soon as I finished playing the song for her, she just looked at me and said, ‘How did you encapsulate what I'm feeling exactly?’”

While yes, I Just Wanna Feel Okay Again holds meaning for people of all ages, in various situations, and from all walks of life, tucked into the DNA of the lyrics is the song of a generation. Listening to it has helped me understand my own Gen Z children better. Communicating the challenges of the past three years has been hard for them and their peers. Abigail’s distinct telling has a zeitgeist quality.

There’s a moment at :39 when she sings “a lonely little broken smille” that kinda made me melt. The melody on those notes is an early, gentle turn for the song, diminutive and luxurious at the same time. And actually, that’s how I might describe Abigail herself.

An indie-pop artist, Abigail launched her music career during the pandemic, so she hasn’t gotten as much stage time as she would like. Typically, I measure an artist by their performance quality, but it would be unfair to overlook Abigail when the pandemic’s limitations weren’t her choice.

Her second-ever release Girl in the Mirror which came out in 2020 has over 900,000 streams on Spotify. Another song, Scream it to the Whole World, came out in 2021 and has close to 600,000 streams. Those are really good numbers for a musician charting her course without a record deal. Plus, her steady release of singles like I Miss You (which landed on five Spotify editorial playlists) and Shallow Love, has helped her build a following and has earned her over 80,000 monthly Spotify listeners. At times that number hovers closer to 100,000.

You can’t ignore that. She’s seeing more success than other young Kentucky artists who may be known locally but haven’t truly found audiences outside the state. 

The artist is full of wonder about life, poring over details. It is experiences that she craves, and not so much digital ones.

“Everyone in my class had a phone when we were, like, 11 years old. I didn’t want one. I loved being a kid so much, I still wanted to play make-believe. I've always really put value in going outside and living life. Now I’m completely engrossed in social media because my entire career kind of depends on internet things.”

But does it? That may be a perception, due to the elevated importance of streaming during the pandemic.

“Well, I know the quality of my art depends on me actually finding time to be creative and practice guitar.”

That’s not easy to do, as Abigail is also an actor with roles in films and television and streaming series that are well known, yet I won’t list them here because that’s not what we’re talking about today.

It’s the music for me.

Carving out time for music is essential because her next step will probably be getting a booking agent so she can perform her songs for audiences more often.

“I think concerts are the ultimate time to connect with fans. I love when artists talk during concerts and tell stories about their songs or their life. Like, it makes you truly feel like you're sharing the space with them and you're not just watching another version of something you could see on a screen.”

A little snippet of Abigail on stage playing guitar reveals the energy that infuses her music. It’s giving Stevie Nicks. It’s giving Joan Jett. It’s giving Tom Petty. In other words, she’s great.

I met the artist after she left Louisville. She and her mom are settled in Los Angeles now.

The two are in lock step, as far as I can tell. Mom has looked out for daughter, helping her navigate a treacherous industry, and along the way nurturing a young woman who is wise beyond her years.

Conversing with Abigail is not like pulling teeth. It’s a pleasure. She’s only 21, yet I sense she could finish many sentences that I begin, and I was astounded by the overlap in our musical interests. She rattled off her favorites from the grunge era. Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins, and her number one, Courtney Love. I squealed, “Malibu!” and she felt that, though Hole’s Live Through This is more her speed.

Fast forward to King Princess. I’m pretty sure we’re neck-and-neck in fandom. Her Spotify playlist Indie Vibes contains the evidence. To my delight, she knew of Ryan Adams’ track-by-track cover of Taylor Swift’s 1989. 

Abigail is no casual listener. She’s a fervent student of music, asking me to say again the names of rappers I mentioned listening to. She was jotting them down. 

Her love of all things music started early.

“I started playing piano when I was 10, and then I got a ukulele when I was 11. I officially started writing songs when I was about 12. I would go into the basement and write and practice for hours. And my mom didn't know what I was doing down there until one day I came up and I was like, ‘I wrote a song.’”

A self-described loner, Abigail became somewhat isolated from her peers when she started traveling for music and acting. Ultimately, she was homeschooled to accommodate her career. There have been disappointments in some of her relationships, which she sings about. A quote from Taylor Swift resonates with her: “People haven't always been there for me, but music has.”

In her case, being a loner has not blunted her ability to talk about her life and music. She’s a superior interview subject. She’s going to shine on stage in those unguarded moments between songs when she tells her fans stories. I could listen all day. Each unassuming facet she shared in our time together pointed to a storehouse holding an endless collection of memories. She forgets nothing.

The thing is, she has a handle on it. I’m sure she could tell it all if there were only enough time, no need for sleep, and a steady rotation of attentive listeners round the clock. It seems that through her songwriting she has found a way to get it all out in the potent, condensed form of songs that she will surely be creating for the rest of her life. There is no other way.