Faye Webster

About the Artist

Faye Webster’s live performances feel less like concerts and more like oddly intimate dream sequences—if dreams had steel pedal guitars and deadpan banter. Blending alternative R&B, indie folk, and country-soul with a slack-jawed grace that somehow never feels lazy, her sound drips with melancholy but never begs for pity. A former yoyo champion (yes, really), Webster’s childhood in Atlanta’s hip-hop-heavy scene informed her genre-blurring instincts early, even as she carved a path rooted more in vulnerability than bravado. Onstage, she rarely chases theatrics—instead, she lets restraint become spectacle. Her band is tight, her vocals soft but unshakable, and between songs, she might mumble something hilariously anticlimactic, like asking if anyone else is also just… really tired. During one now-mythologized set, she paused mid-song to comment on how weird it felt that people were crying to her music while she was just trying not to trip over her own mic cable. It’s that kind of self-aware, almost allergic-to-fame energy that fans love—along with the way she can make a song like “Kingston” sound like a love letter you forgot you wrote.