Last evening’s Regina Spektor show at McCarren Pool was pretty much perfect, despite the rain and a tornado warning, and I say that mainly because she seemed to have made all the right choices. As a new album approaches, I hope these are a sign of having managed to regain control after being led by others in the industry:
She’s dropped the horrid guitar-bass-drum band since the last time I saw her–their presence also weakened her last album, Begin To Hope. This time she played a segment and part of the three-song encore (”Us” & “Samson”) with a two-piece (or three?) string section that provided just the right amount of accent to the piano’s gorgeous sound, without overwhelming it one bit. The cello’s sound, in particular, was warm and fantastic.
All photos, by Kashish, and more stories after the jump.
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Download “We Are Animals” | There isn’t really any standing room at Monkeytown; the performance space is like someone’s spacious living room. It’s a nice square, at least, with video projections on all four walls, all along which guests seat themselves either on low canvas couches or spare chairs, and dinner and drinks can be had on the slim, low tables that you’ll share with few other guests if you’re a party of less than 4. The performance takes place at the center of this room, sans stage, and coupled with the proximity to the artist and a very low capacity, it makes for a unique “concert-going” experience.
Being a collective, Portland’s Au is mostly a big band that should be expected to vary in tour-size. Last night they played as a duo, consisting of the amazing Dana Vlatka on drums and founder Luke Wyland on everything else (keyboards plus gadgetry). At first I worried, as I worry with every Broken Social Scene show, “Where are the girl singers?”. But within the first song, I made two notes: (1) go see Au again at Spiegeltent on September 29th, opening for the Dodos (2) recommend everyone else to do so.
The only thing that sounds good at the Cake Shop is the drums, yet the place has a charm favorable to performances. The Dodos frontman Meric Long was merrier and more gutsy than usual–perhaps it was the presence of friends, or perhaps it was the modest stage with its glittering streams of red for a backdrop and yellow balls of light for a ceiling. The two bands that went before The Dodos played like restraint was blasphemy–one was ferocious with its setup of two drums and a howling singer fond of crashing into people and punching their can of beer flat, against the person’s belly nonetheless–which made the role of restraint in the music of The Dodos much more apparent. A little bit of reign can make a world of a difference.
The Dodos are playing The Siren Music Festival this Saturday, and last night’s performance at the Cake Shop was sort of a “secret show”. More videos later, and some pictures after the jump.
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Once the gentle rain subsided on Sunday evening, the sun brought a warm glow to Central Park’s Summer Stage. It remained there until sunset, making it possible for a continuously growing throng of Yael Naim fans to stream in without having to battle nature in addition to long lines. Paris-born Israeli songstress Yael was a yellow fruit bursting with gems of tunes birthed at her tiny apartment, some sung in French, others in Hebrew and English. She played with a band of four, including drummer David Donatien who was credited as her musical partner; a bassist, and a fellow on accordion who at one point impressively raced his fingers on the piano; Yael switched between a guitar, a ukulele and the piano.
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Download Doubt / Hope” | Sweden’s Wildbirds & Peacedrums proceeds its stage activities by unclothing its music of whatever coat, and letting it dance in its bare glory with tortured singing over telling drums. If the percussion is the peace drums, the singing here is the wild bird without a doubt. Except, the percussion here has nothing to do with peace - it goes right into rolling the drama out of each calamity. The blues in the band’s music is how the blues must’ve been in its beginnings: a metaphysical crisis sprung not just from any heartache, but the acceptance of living and its myriad of gems, despite the inevitable downfalls it must put you through, which by the way is what they mean by “selling the soul to the devil”. Unfortunately, “I Can’t Tell in His Eyes” (posted above) isn’t the best example, despite the great lyrics, but that’s what’s available for free right now.
More photos, and the amazing Sharon Van Etten, after the jump.
As it turns out, it was to toss a few new songs at the learned ears of loyal fans that Beirut pulled together a very last-minute show at the Music Hall of Williamsburg. Along with the buzz that tickets would soon go on sale had come a letter from frontman Zach, saying the band would be canceling European dates set for the summer, feeling a reinvention and a “fresh perspective” was in order. Having heard the few new songs tonight, and seeing that the band is in a pretty top shape, I’m now confident these urgent steps lead to a strengthened Beirut. While previous recordings may have been a commendable homage to the street musicians that sparked a vision in Zach, while in Paris, the new songs indicate inheritance of specks of dust of what remains of the Yugoslavian soul. If these songs truly represent what is to come, we will finally be able to say: not only does Beirut pay tribute to Kocani Orkestar, it plays music of the same league. Even if I’m disappointed by the rest and the new music doesn’t get there yet, it seems to be on its way. Zach also sang a pleasant Portuguese song, which said to me: he’s still got his palms open for what other bits of soul the wind might bring.
Read Part II or view the full post to see what Zach looks like when reading the lyrics of a Portuguese song.
