I‰’m pretty sure I‰’m TV Girl‰’s biggest fan. Granted, there‰’s like, 30 of us, so that‰’s not a huge accomplishment. 50 other people and I huddled in the basement of Comet Ping Pong on Monday. A single color changing light hung above the stage. The venue was small and the single female face felt mysterious and alluring. I didn‰’t know who she was, or rather, who she was supposed to be.

TV Girl‰’s imagery is as mysterious as the band itself. Because no one has ever heard of them, no one really knows (or cares, I guess) who they are. However, this makes it even more enthralling for their fans. Generally speaking, artists have some sort of online presence. TV Girl has a Twitter, Bandcamp, and Facebook page, but they‰’re lacking in general engagement. They don‰’t have an Instagram they don‰’t have many interviews. Because of this, I felt like I was face-to-face with a figurehead rather than a band that night.

The California trio makes music that “you can sing along to, but wouldn’t sing around your parents,‰” as they claim. Their songs deal with finding love and recovering from it. The lyrics are brutally honest, but they sound so pretty that you wouldn‰’t hear the pain behind singer Brad Petering‰’s voice upon first listen.

They rarely talked directly to the crowd, which only adds to the mystery of who they really are. Their only real interaction was when Petering gave a spiel about how life is shit and we‰’re all going to die by 2050 because the bees are dying and the glaciers are melting. They performed with that ironic sort of apathy that all 20-something underground musicians seem to possess.

Despite the fact that TV Girl has two albums and two EPs, the concert only lasted about an hour. For the short while, I felt like I was in a dream. That‰’s what bedroom pop does to you. It transports you to a dreamlike state where you can‰’t feel pain and the music travels through your veins. Airy harmonies and introspective samples draped their warm arms around me. We swayed to “Louise‰” and shook our hips to “Loving Machine.‰” Each song seemed to float breezily into the next.

Petering clung to the microphone as he sang “Till You Tell Me To Leave.‰” I can‰’t imagine that was intentional, but his tight grip and yearning expression cut through the hazy melody. The small crowd made it feel like he was singing directly to every audience member. We‰’ve all experienced heartbreak and loss. We‰’ve just never had someone sing to us about it.

At around 10:50, they announced that in the interest of time, they were going to skip right to the encore. They told us to pretend like they had already gone offstage and that they had just come back on.

“I remember how the pillows felt like clouds,‰” Petering lulled. This song “Heaven is a Bedroom‰” juxtaposes TV Girl‰’s signature glittery sound with heavy, gut punching lyrics about mistaking casual sex for love. I tilted my head back as the music moved through me. I felt each note and every harmony.

At 11 p.m., the lights flickered on and I was jolted back into reality. But I‰’m not sad. TV Girl created an experience that transcends the time I spent in Comet Ping Pong. I can put in my headphones and listen to “The Blonde.‰” I float above the melody and I‰’m instantly back.