Check it: St. Vincent played Central Park's summerstage this afternoon, a sort of homecoming for the Dallas-bred indie queen who has now adopted Brooklyn as her home. Along with openers Basia Bulat and tUnE-YarDs, many critics were more or less dubbing the lineup "Lil' Lilith Fair," (a fair assessment with a reasonable amount of lesbians and hair-braiding happening in the audience) urging concert-goers to see today's show instead of the actual festival, which, at this point, just sounds like an exercise in futility. Anyways, been a fan of St. Vincent since her first album Marry Me, but last year's Actor was what really blew me away.
I arrive at Rumsey Playfield around 2:30, freaking out that there'd be no more spots near the front or I'd be shut out completely because of Summerstage's twitter insisting everyone get there by 1:30 (there was PLENTY of room, Summerstage Twitter, you lying liar-pants.) I take a spot near a guy sitting by himself holding a bouquet of flowers. I'm really tempted to ask him if they're for St. Vincent, but I decide to mind my business. Not long after, the first of the opening acts, Canada's Basia Bulat, takes the stage. I went in knowing nothing about either opener. The first thing that strikes me about Basia is that she looks just like Analeigh, the ex-figure skater from America's Next Top Model (yes, I'm weird). I was a bit nervous at the beginning of the set when I noticed a couple of birds perched in the rafters above the stage, and was afraid the whole show would be Kings of Leon'd. The Canadian singer played a multitude of instruments onstage, ranging from your typical guitar and keyboard to the autoharp, while her band members strummed the ukulele and rattled a maracas. Basia's standout song titled, I believe, In a Green Zoo, sung in Polish about, what she explained, humans viewing animals in a zoo, but the "twist" at the end is that it's unclear whether it's the humans or the animals that are caged. Not knowing Polish, I don't know if this twist was of The Sixth Sense or of The Lady In the Water variety. Basia chirped in a syrupy voice that her music has a dark edge to it.
Next up is tUnE-yARDs. Merrill Garbus walks on stage, blue makeup smeared all over her face, barefoot, and wearing an '80s-ladies-who-lunch dress armed with power-bitch shoulderpads. I'm not gonna lie, she made me nervous. And with the wonky spelling of her stage name, what with the lowercase T, uppercase U, et cetera, et cetera, et-goddamn-cetera, I was kinda predisposed not to like her. I really dislike quirky-for-the-sake-of-being-quirky people who've got no real personality. Anyways, she gets on stage, and with her first song, emits what I can only describe as some kind of tribal yodel call, which she then loops and it serves as the song's backbone. This is pretty much her M.O.: grunt out some gibberish for a melody. She even mimics a siren in one song, calling it her "NY special." But I have to say, it was pretty awesome! "Do you want to live?!" she implores with her first song. "YEAH!" the crowd shouts back. Clearly I'm the only one in the audience who has no idea what she's in for. Many times, her singing style is reminiscent of Janis Joplin: aggressive and gravelly with a hint of the blues. But there is a definite sweet side, with both her personality and her music. On a track named Fiya, tUne-YarDs borrows the chorus from Willie Nelson's You Were Always On My Mind, and the song is like the sonic interpretation of walk through the park, hand-in-hand with a loved one, one a bright sunny day. She also takes time to shoutout her 93-year-old photographer hosting a show at that very same time, and to her parents, whom she points out have been pogoing right along with the audience to her music. She bounces around stage with an electric ukulele in front of her band (also be-makeuped with blue smears across their faces) looking as though she's having the time of her life. The look on Merrill's face the whole time is of a mischievous kid up to no good, but in a lovable, Dennis the Menace kind of way. Rounding out her set, she sang new song Business, pleading to the crowd, "don't take my life away!" a striking contrast to her first song.
I first saw St. Vincent (aka Annie Clark) at the Bell House June of last year, super lucky to have snatched up tickets to the small show. I had been wary having read reviews of her tour; critics couldn't deny her talent but it was noted that she lacked in stage presence and her banter was stilted and mumbled. She's alive when she plays the guitar. I recall her falling to her knees during one guitar solo, completely engrossed, as her backup singers danced and grooved alongside. She was perfectly chatty, if a bit nervous, but it took her a while to find her comfort zone.
As the crew builds up for the headlining set, St. Vincent quietly stalks out on stage, and it isn't until a few cheers in the audience that we are even alerted she is near. She doesn't acknowledge the audience, only coming out to speak briefly to a crew member. A stark difference from The Flaming Lips-- who I was lucky to catch at Terminal 5 this past Tuesday. Wayne Coyne, who is not only very hands-on with the setup of his band's equipment, even goes as far to speak to the audience before the show to issue a warning to those in the very front, who have his well-known man-in-a-hamster-ball stage gimmick in store. Annie leaves the stage as quietly as she comes, only returning to the stage before she is announced by Summerstage's emcee. She almost tiptoes out to her place on the stage, avoiding eye contact with the audience. How odd that someone who seems so powerful on stage could be so shy. But Annie doesn't need to speak; her guitar does it for her, and her stylings sometimes have a Hendrix feel. You can tell her single Marrow is a favorite to play. She's consumed by the song, almost spazzing out a little. She reminds me a bit of David Byrne, who I almost expected to see perform with her today with the recent news of their upcoming collaboration/performance at Lincoln Center later this year. She ends her set with encore The Party, after which she waves to the audience and practically runs off stage, kind of like a little girl after her first dance recital. It's a shame St. Vincent still seems ill-at-ease with performing; with her looks, talent and friends in high places, she's got it made.
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