St Vincent @ A38

The lady is totally touched in the head- and that’s the most wonderful compliment there is. Why be normal, when you can be better? Musically speaking St Vincent might be an acquired taste- her songs are simply too complex to be liked immediately, but then try as I might, I still cannot get Rattlesnake out of my head since Saturday night.

Her stage presence on the other hand is totally straightforward: she is there in a way very few other artists are- it actually takes a bit of concentration to figure out which track she’s playing, as you’re too mesmerized by the sight of her being so otherworldly and present at the same time. But then she breaks into a guitar solo and the music floods back into your mind-she is so technically perfect it almost comes off as cold, but then there’s a glimmer in Annie Clarke’s eye that makes her prowess so very human.

There was much fanfare before her concert that this would be the best club event of the year- well what else could you do, if you were the promoter, but sell your ware. This time however they might have been right- there are undeniably many strong live acts out there, but very few are so idiosyncratically different as St Vincent- at the end of the line, when you count the performances you’ve seen, of course you’ll remember the one with the girl with the silver hair stage-diving into a crowd of adoring male groupies.

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