On March 15, Ber walked on stage at Chicago’s Schubas Tavern with a huge smile. She jumped into a performance of “Boys Who Kiss You in Their Car,” an upbeat indie pop song that draws on the mediocre men she’s gone on dates with. Dressed in patterned pink pants and an oversized leather jacket, she made eye contact with members of the audience, gesticulating and making faces as she sang. She cringed at “It’s always the boys with the beanies.” She rolled her eyes while singing “I still don’t wanna hear about your band.” She shifted to a more jazzy beat with the song “I’m Not in Love.” Her soft vocals drifted across the intimate venue, and as the audience swayed to the rhythm, she matched our energy with movements of her hands and hips. As the song faded, she tucked her hair behind her ears and looked into the crowd. She introduced herself as Ber, pronounced “Bear.” Turning to her “best friends in the world,” she introduced Brian Jost on the guitar and Erik Bear (“yes, that’s really his name”) on the drums.

Ber picked up a sticker-covered mason jar and explained that she had a problem with using the word “slay,” hence the “Slay Jar.” After slipping in a dollar for an accidental “slay” during her introductions, she offhandedly asked the crowd if anyone happened to be on a Hinge date. Someone in the middle of the crowd shouted and raised a hand. After getting over her initial shock, Ber held a brief exchange with the couple and decided to dedicate the next song, about the best Hinge date she ever had, to Steve and Samantha. “Feels So Easy” has a gentle rhythm marked by the soft shaking of a maraca. The uplifting vocals reflect the hope that comes with a good first date, especially in contrast with the emotional turmoil of the bad breakups she detailed in the previous songs of her set.

After moving through a couple songs off her 2023 EP Halfway, Ber explained that her recent work is heavily influenced by being ghosted by her long-term boyfriend upon moving home to Minnesota during the pandemic. As she was healing, Ber found that most songs she listened to were too extreme—too “I hate you” or too “I still love you”—for the complex emotions she was experiencing. She made Halfway with that version of herself in mind, and the result is breakup music that is relatable and realistic, hitting a range of feelings. For her next song, drummer Bear moved to the keyboard, and Ber sat next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Same Effect” has slow, steady plucking of the guitar, gentle keyboard notes, and melodic humming. The plaintive vocals and slow rhythm combine for a heart-wrenching expression of the urge to reach back out to someone even when that distance is necessary.

“I know pettiness isn’t pretty, but allow me to be petty for this next one,” she remarked as she stepped back up to the microphone and Bear moved back to the drums. “Your Internet Sucks” opens with a conversational address to her ex over a quick indie guitar riff. As the drumbeat picked up for the chorus, Ber’s anger rose and the audience joined her in shouting, “I hope when you think of me it hurts.” Riding the wave of energy and anger, Max Leone, the opener, joined Ber on stage for a cover of Katy Perry’s “Hot n Cold.” Through his opening set, Max Leone was anxious but extremely likable, engaging the growing crowd with his catchy songs and energetic dancing. With Ber, Max’s anxiety seemed to have lifted, and the duo bounced around the stage, their voices mixing with those of the audience.

Taking center stage again, Ber addressed the audience in her typical conversational tone: “I was going to pretend to leave and make you wait for the encore, but I’m not going to do that to you guys.” She then moved into her top-ranking song on Spotify, “Meant to Be,” a mellow track that was a stark change from the fast-paced anger of the previous songs. With the repeated refrain “we were meant to be, just not meant to last,” it expresses the experience of losing a relationship that still contains a lot of love—letting go of something you wish you didn’t have to.

Turning to her Chicago audience, she remarked that hitting a deer is a rite of passage in the Midwest, as we all surely knew. She taught us a refrain that isn’t in the recording of the song, “You flew over my car, and you flew so far,” in which the two halves of the crowd were meant to harmonize. Even before Ber had introduced the harmony, a voice rang out from a woman in the front row, and Ber, shocked at the quality of her vocals, laughed and said, “You already know what I’m going to do!” With the crowd’s role established, Ber began “Dead Dear (Deer),” a comical song with an aggressive drumbeat that draws parallels between hitting a deer and hitting one’s “dear.” Smiling to herself, she joined the audience in moving through the lyrics and rhythm.

Given the seeming intensity of our need to hit our exes with our cars, Ber looked into the crowd and acknowledged that most of us appeared to have “been through a lot of shit.” “I wish I could learn each and every one of your names,” she said and welcomed anyone to stick around after the show and talk to her. Grabbing the microphone for the final song, she began “Slutphase,” a fan favorite. Upbeat with steady drums, “Slutphase” is easy to dance to and easy to belt. It chronicles the common experience of distracting yourself from your ex with a series of rebounds while assuring us that’s kind of okay. As the song drew to a close, sharply dropping the volume and losing the drums, the audience joined Ber in saying “everybody needs a slutphase while they’re young and hot.” She smiled and waved in her friendly, personal way, and stepped off the stage, leaving the audience feeling as though they had met someone who got it: someone who understood the process of moving through a breakup and who produced her music, in part, with people going through shit in mind.