We sent Alan Wragg down to witness the beguiling sounds of St. Vincent at Manchester's Albert Hall. Read his reaction here.
Mike Warburton
Date published: 24th Oct 2014
Photo: St. Vincent / Credit: Joshua Mellin
Pre 2014, St. Vincent, AKA Annie Clark had a career that ran from running away with the Polyphonic Spree to collaborating with David Byrne. She had attained a good level of critical acclaim, but it was this year’s self-titled album St. Vincent that gave her a wider audience, and the live show she’d showcased at the summers festivals is starting out on its mammoth world tour. In her own words “The whole everything feels more fully realised this time”.
Her last gig in Manchester was in February this year, hampered by the PA at Manchester cathedral. This time round, we were in a packed out Albert Hall, and on the basis of previous gigs at this wonderful venue, there would be no such problems this time around.
Before the set started a pre-recorded intro announced in a Hawkings-esque computerised voice “Greetings, for maximum enjoyment please refrain from digitally capturing this performance”, greeted by cheers of approval from those of us sick of watching gigs via the person in front’s phone. And then the band appeared. Before Annie Clark had even sung a word she had us hooked as we cheered and whooped every skittish twist of her limbs.
The commitment everyone gave to the choreography and staging of the show was rare indeed. Even being handed her guitar by her roadie was choreographed, her collapsing like a toy running out of batteries whilst the guitar was placed around her, before she rose up and half-shuffle-half-floating towards the microphone.
The stage production was basic (no projectors or giant lasers here, just a podium at the back and lights) but worked brilliantly, the lighting giving each song its own distinctive atmosphere, and tricks like a strobe used just to light Annie during a few thrashing guitar solos really adding to the atmosphere.
She kicked off with 'Rattlesnake' (above) and 'Digital Witness' from the new release. On record much of the new album has a glam-rock feel about it, but live the sound was a much more direct synth vs guitars stand-off. The doll-like moves were juxtaposed with snippets of wild atonal guitar solos, that quickly collapsed with a flourish, right on the beat. The songs were given extended outros that thankfully didn't outstay their welcome.
There was a good mix of old and new songs on show, and old favourites like 'Cruel' and 'Cheerleader' (above) got a great reception and managed to fit into the aesthetic of the new record nicely and actually bring the energy up (considering that a fair proportion of us at the event may have only heard the last record or two), she made a great case for us exploring her back catalogue further.
Annie used the stage brilliantly with some tracks making good use of the staging. 'I Prefer Your Love' involved her lounging all over her podium in various positions, and 'Prince Johnny' (an album highlight) was given an extended outro which slowly melded together the soft chords of the song with creeping twisting guitars, as Annie collapsed down the podium in slow motion.
Annie and keyboard/bassist/guitarist Toko Yasunda took up most of the attention, collapsing into each other for guitar duels and stalking round each other like toy soldiers or dolls, but by the time 'Birth In Reverse' (above) came around even the keyboardist got involved with the choreography. The confidence the band had in themselves, the songs and the show radiated out with each song and we were all enraptured.
An unexpected highlight of the set was 'Bring Me Your Loves' (performed live on Letterman below), which on record tends towards the disjointed and comes across as a bit too ‘kitchen-sink’, but live was stripped down and made a ton more sense, the marching beats matching the discord.
The whole crowd fell in love. It’s been said before but the refreshing thing about St. Vincent is that any sexuality in the performance or songs is owned, not sold. This was the very best outsider Pop, and there’s no mistaking Clark for a manufactured or hyper sexualised girl. This was the singular, fully formed vision of a grown woman.
The encore involved a beautifully imperfect version of 'Strange Mercy', the only time in the set where Clark appeared alone (in previous years she performed entirely as a solo artist), followed by a couple more old heavy numbers.
The show ended with St Vincent offering her guitar out to the crowd, climbing up the side of the stage and hanging off the balcony, being pulled up and stealing someone's drink, climbing down, stuffing her head in the bass drum and ending up foetus like on the floor, whilst synths swirl around her.
It was a fittingly beguiling end to an epic one hour and 45 minute show. In a year where The Albert Hall has seen some incredible shows (surely Manchester’s venue of the year?), this has to rate as one of the best.
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