St. Vincent’s Saving Lives

5 Notes

St. Vincent’s Saving Lives

[This is an unpublished show review from back in October, when I saw St. Vincent at Old Rock House]

Last week, my attention was directed to a tragi-comic essay on the impossible nature of happiness, how the emotion everyone seems to be striving for is actually unsustainable and ephemeral, a nebulous marketing scam started relatively recently in human history to manipulate people into adhering to social codes established by The Man. The main takeaway is, whatever event or item you think will surely secure your happiness forever will never maintain or even achieve the level of happiness that you felt in the time leading up to that moment. The anticipation is the good stuff, everything else is a let down.

Not ideal thoughts to have while leaning against my car, looking at the queue of excited fans alongside The Old Rock House. I’d watched at least two total strangers, teenagers, losing their minds on Tumblr for weeks, kids driving from Arkansas and Indiana just to see this concert. Could Annie Clark possibly provide an experience to rival the time spent almost tasting how blown away we’d be?

But that’s the thing about St. Vincent, you know. She’s clever, wry even. She is the best super hero facade for human weakness: Wise, ambiguous lyrics and dazzling guitar to distract from the uncertainty, nervousness, and powerlessness that fill the time not spent on stage. The new album, Strange Mercy, demands and establishes a stable balance between nightmare spazz and the discomfort of uptight control.

I have a special place in my heart for artists whose music is their solace and their torment. Last night, Annie Clark pulled a sold-out crowd into her head. She showed us what it’s like to face down a panic attack with your wits still about you. The strobe lights and spots disoriented, the bass was shockingly loud, the vaulted ceiling threatened to crash down upon us, but the music bound us together, even when the noise and feedback seemed to careen into infinity with no way back. The electronic drums beat out of time, but the math still held, and order never really left the universe.

The confidence of the new album made songs from the older albums seem dark and doomed by comparison, especially “Actor Out of Work,” the only St. Vincent song I’ve ever heard on commercial radio. With slight changes in arrangement, the addition of two synths, the absence of the layered backing vocals, it was a whole new song, and scarier.

At the end of the encore, as the last strains of “Your Lips Are Red” (a personal favorite) faded away, it was clear that Annie Clark has a solid grip on her ghosts. Driving home from the show, the windows down, it’s unseasonably warm for October and I’ve got the radio tuned to the local oldies station. Elton John sings, “Someone Saved My Life Tonight.”

It’s four o’clock in the morning

Damnit, listen to me good
I’m sleeping with myself tonight
Saved in time, thank God my music’s still alive.

And I am satisfied.

Setlist:
Cruel
Cheerleader
Surgeon
Hysterical Strength
Chloe in the Afternoon
Actor Out of Work
Dilettante
Just the Same but Brand New
Champagne Year
Neutered Fruit
Strange Mercy
She is Beyond Good and Evil (The Pop Group cover)
Northern Lights
Year of the Tiger
Marrow

Encore
The Party
Your Lips Are Red

Notebook: I follow a bunch of teenage fangirls on Tumblr, because that’s their natural habitat and because it’s fun. The one who lives in Arkansas and drove to STL the day of the show and returned the same night because she had class the next morning reports back that she got an autograph, a hug, and her picture taken with Annie Clark, and Annie brought out a beer for everyone who waited.