I watched St. Vincent, other wise known as the saintly Annie Clark, slink up onto Diesel’s stage this past Sunday night in a dress that would be suited for a goth Jan Jetson.  She weaved her way through the maze of guitars, microphones, her 7 or so pedals, a key board, a flute, a clairnet and a violin.

It’s easy to forget when you listen to 2009′s Actor or 2007′s Marry Me how each song, even the ballads, have countless moving parts. Watching Clark negotiate this overflowing stage, I suddenly felt as if this was the physical manifestation her little musical dream world, a place she fits into like a perfectly crafted diamond cog.

Petite, angelically light skinned with jet black curls and blood red lips, Clark  also makes it abundantly clear in the closing moments of “The Strangers,” which opened the set, that she is a guitar goddess.

Balancing an off-kilter virtuosity with an insatiable appetite for feedback, Clark devoured abyss black distortion every chance she could get. But even amidst the most hectic breakdowns, she would allow the storm to evaporate.  Clark revels in the abrupt transitions, licking her lips with a knowing smirk and awkward giggle, only to hum a gorgeously banal harmony in the guitar frenzy’s aftermath.

She spun through all the highlights of Actor with razor precision:  “Actor Out of Work” sounded even more confrontational live,  “Marrow’s”  chorus vibrated with a chunky bravado, and “Black Rainbow” reached it’s climax like melodramatic score of a silent movie, just like it was supposed to.  Marry Me’s “Jesus Saves, I Spend” made an appearance early in the set, as did a solo rendtion of “Paris is Burning” that was made even more devestating with Clark’s solitude on stage.

One cover (if you can call it that) also made its way into the set: an alternate version of Ice Cube’s “It Was a Good Day.” Clark described her take on Ice Cube’s classic as “a condensed version, aged about 30 years and sung by a morbidly depressed woman.” (note: the song was actually “These Days” by Jackson Browne, Clark simply said it reminded her of Ice Cube’s track)

The cherry on top of the sundae, or the lit fuse on top of the bomb, was the apocalyptic, searing, extremely anticipated extended version of “Your Lips  Are Red” in the encore.  The four minute, distortion drenched coda had more than its share of Zeppelin-like grandeur, even prompting Clark to kneel down over her pedals, pump and smack her guitar causing endless ripples of static and basically revel in the maximum control of her 40 foot swell of electricity.

Frankly, that’s how everything in life should end.

St. Vincent – Your Lips Are Red

For the first time since like June of 2009, the updated concert calendar through April is available for your viewing pleasure.  I also made a point to include Morgantown fixture 123 Pleasant Street as a concert venue worth your attention, considering they get just as many national tours, Pittsburgh acts and home grown bands from West Virgnia (Librarians, anyone?) playing their stage as any other venue in the steel city.

Regardless, in my opinion there are a few highlights: Surfer Blood, The Heligoats, Real Estate, The Smith Westerns, Girls, The Dum Dum Girls, Baroness, and last but not least The Hold Steady. But, I have to say, St. Vincent coming to town in a little over a week is making me giddy.

St. Vincent (a.k.a. Annie Clark) skipped over the burgh in the spring of 2009, touring in support of her near perfect sophomore LP Actor.  This time around, Joker Productions snagged the Brooklyn songstress along with Swedish, bluesy/freak folkers Wildbirds and Peacedrums for what surely is the most anticipated show of the next month at Diesel on February 21st.  Expect a show review to follow, in the meantime enjoy St. Vincent’s “Actor Out of Work” and “Save me From What I Want” and Wildbirds and Peacedrum’s “Doubt/Hope.” Tracks after the jump.

St. Vincent – Actor Out Of Work

St. Vincent – Save Me From What I Want

Wildbirds and Peacedrums – Doubt/Hope

So it’s been just about a month to the day of my last post.  What have I been doing in that time? Anxiously awaiting my life to start (you will all be spared of  the gory details) among other things, but mostly working a dead end job.  I will say that my enthusiasm to post and write about music got nicely pulverized after I attended the Tally Hall, Malbec and Crocodiles show at Mr. Small’s last month for the sole reason of seeing Jesus and the Mary Chain torchbearers Crocodiles unleash some heavy drone into the sleepy May evening from their latest hype-infested album Summer of Hate. Alas, the band had car troubles in fucking Cleveland and had to slip the bill, taking out the majority of wind from my metaphorical sails.

Since that fateful night, I have been meaning to get back on the horse and write something significant, luckily Annie Clark from St. Vincent gave me a little nudge in the right direction.  I already claimed my allegiance to Clark’s “Actor Out of Work” from her latest Actor sometime in early May, but this clever little acoustic version snagged at my heart strings once again.  Not only does Clark triumphantly claim she doesn’t even own an acoustic guitar, but she plays the formerly devestating rock song in the vein of a jaunty, bossa nova charmer.  Add some microphone echo that is truly cavernous and all of the sudden the track becomes even stranger than it once was.  I am keeping the rhapsodizing short this time around, the video speaks for itself.

I couldn’t help but post this video after seeing it during a mid morning malaise, half way through a deathly banal bowl of Special K.  St. Vincent, the pious stage moniker of Annie Clark, presents this searing video for “Actor Out of Work” off her latest, Actor, released earlier this month.  In the video, Ms. Clark interviews, err, interrogates…err politely states the facts of life to a string of “actors” lined up in a sparse, sprawling warehouse for the better part of the entire song.  She pulls this off like a guidance counselor from hell amidst a storming rock backdrop, patiently explaining the vauge motivations (“you’re a bandage, pull it off”) and glaring flaws of her subjects with a candor and disconnection Kubrick would have envied.

It’s a provocatively simple video that pulls out pretty decent performances from the insecure drones getting reamed to high heaven by Clarke’s disturbingly serene persona.  “You’re a liar and that’s the truth/you’re an extra, lost in the scene” she states with a quiet assertiveness, only to follow up with a gorgeously oblivious humming harmony that’s like wrapping a pink bow on a field dressing.  Why are these people subjecting themselves to this? Is this an audition?  Witnessing the last man interviewed by Ms. Clarke easily snap out of his crying fit, I can’t help but wonder if these “actors” enjoy this, or if these people are actually actors at all.