Annie Clark’s weapon is her intent. Her grace is a swift punch packed with pointed articulation, and for this she has found the appropriate musical expression (aided by an assortment of gadgets at her feet, including an expressive kick drum, and the coupling of a regular microphone with a distorted one). Her angry, unrestrained outbursts on the electric guitar show off her control over the instrument, but her playing can hardly be classified as flamboyant or subtle. Instead, the power comes from the emotion she keeps sharpened, which results in clarity without being overbearing. Her singing takes on the same quality- it is the intention that provides shape to her voice that otherwise escapes easy categorization, and it’s this skill of Annie’s that makes her shows powerful, with or without a full band.

More after the jump.

Annie Clark played Bowery Ballroom with the four-piece version of St. Vincent, featuring bass, drums and violin. The singer’s dark humor was on full display as she paused with a ghastly, wide-eyed face during a break of silence in the song about murdering her lover. She had played a few love ballads, it was explained, and what was the other thing as interesting as love, but death. The arm of a mannequin, with a pointed forefinger, stood next to her. It was wired to function as an electronic drum kit, and this too she demonstrated without cracking a smile. After knocking it down during one of the songs, however, she broke into a beam and shrugged innocently as someone came to erect it back in place. Later she expressed confusion and disbelief over having her album sold at actual stores instead of just her mother’s house, and offered to deface her portrait on the album cover if we came down to the merchandise booth. Inspired by her mention of the word “gnarly”, when stumbling through her amazement that people would gather to watch her play, the audience also participated to produce a string of cheesy slangs such as “cawobanga” and “bodacious”.

Previously:

• Favorite song of the week: “Paris Is Burningâ€? by St. Vincent
• St. Vincent at Union Hall – pics
• St. Vincent at Mercury Lounge – pics

Paris Is Burning EP
Released: 2006

This week was filled with quality new songs, but the one I played the most is an older one, though newly acquired. As previously mentioned, St. Vincent merch table was selling her EP Paris Is Burning for $5, and though the second track “What Me Worry” is a fine tune with jazzy singing, and the third, a cover of Nico’s “These Days”, is just as excellent, the title track is alone worth 5 bucks. Written by Annie, it is by itself evidence of her exciting talent. It gives me goosebumps.

“Paris Is Burning” begins with foreboding French horns that would go nicely with a murder scene in a black and white movie. And the kind of tension that would go along with such a scene is sustained throughout the song. Picking words from the lyrics itself, especially in the light of the waltz rhythm introduced in the second half, “Paris Is Burning” is somewhat of a “black waltz.” The lyrics are simple enough, but poignant and well-arranged, and Annie’s got a way of adding eeriness when she sings them. The first few words, sung slowly over acoustic guitar:

I write to give word the war is over
Send my cinders home to mother
They gave me a medal for my valor
Leaden [?] trumpet spit
The soot [?] of power

(Review continues after the jump)

And the chorus, with the addition of drums, bass and some electric guitar:

We are waiting on a telegram
To give us news of the war
I’m sorry to report dear Paris
Is burning after all

We have taken to the streets in open
Rejoice, revolting
We are dancing a black waltz
Dear paris
Is burning after all

I read someone’s reference to Winona Ryder just now, in discussing the way Annie looks. When I saw her first show, however, the first person that came to mind was Anne Frank (and not because of the first name!). I thought, “Oh, it’s almost as if Anne Frank has turned 24.” So now that I have this song and am listening to it repeatedly, this first intuitive connection makes perfect sense to me, though given that it’s still just an intuition, it must be further investigated.

In the end, she repeats desparately before the forlorn French horns come back in:

Dance dear Paris
Ashes now
Dance for people
Dance and drown
Dance dear Paris
To the ground

Goosebumps! So. Help me with the lyrics if you can.

Previously:

• St. Vincent at Union Hall – pics
• St. Vincent at Mercury Lounge – pics
• Favorite new song of the week: “Now Nowâ€? by St. Vincent, + new Brooklyn date

After watching two shows with what I think was the exact setlist, I can conclude that I’m quite fond of the live version of “Your Lips Are Red,” perhaps because there are parts where Annie breathes furiously into the distorted mic and kicks the kick pad, this repeated a few times in the said order. She was a little sillier last night, sneaking in “We’re all going to hell” after singing the line “We can do what Joseph and Mary did, without the kid.” It struck me, in any case, how much eerier it is to hear her sing this line live: “You don’t mean that, say you’re sorry.”

All photos after the jumper.

I also grabbed a copy of her 3-track EP ($5) from the merch table. Named after the powerful first song, it’s called Paris Is Burning. If anything can be said of the second track “What Me Worry,” it’s that it’s got Billie Holiday written all over it, and the idea that St. Vincent might do something that sounds Billie Holiday-ish I personally find fun, because she does it quite intetionally. The third, “These Days,” is a Nico cover, which I’ve had on repeat.

Lastly, Union Hall seems an impossible venue to take decent photos in without flash, unless, I think, you’ve got yourself a very good camera/lens, which I barely do. The lamp helped in the one above, but for the rest (below and the first one in this post) I’ve quickly colored the photos to my fancy. Because it’s more fun that way.

Photos:

There has rarely been so much elegance in a girl in bright red tights breezing her fingers through the guitar, stomping her foot on her kick pad, singing about murder and whimsical, indecisive fancies about marrying John. Talking about a sweet boy who came up to her after a show, asking if the song was about killing her actual baby. Saying yes with a straight face. Humming at a distance from the mic, sounding gorgeous all the time, shaking her guitar, switching between mics, one clean one dirty, and making us understand immediately why these switches are fantastically crucial. Annie Clark, who goes by the name St. Vincent, played an outstanding one-woman show at Mercury Lounge. Don’t miss her at Union Hall. Link to full show review will be posted later.

All photos from the show here: