Annie Clark... right before she fell on me.

Now, if you’ve been a good reader of the WOBC music blog, you know I love St. Vincent. Like “actually-kinda-border-line-obsessed-this-is-an-embarrassing-thing-to-talk-about-type-deal” love. In other words, my love is true and unwavering. And after seeing St. Vincent live at the Newport Music Hall in Columbus, that love has only strengthened.

Ok, let me put my St. Vincent boner away for a minute. I’m going to be straight with you.  I am not easily impressed by live music. Or let me rephrase that– I am not easily impressed by the “lo- fi blah blah drone-core blah blah chill-wave” sound that typifies the live music scene today. It’s a thing for bands that act like that don’t give a shit, but in doing that, they make me, the listener, really not give a shit. Thus forth, no shits are given and not much fun is had– just the look of slouchy, stewing over post-adolescent ennui not unlike as seen in an American Apparel ad staring back at me from across the stage. I like musicians who care. I want upwards of five shits to be given about the music I listen to. St. Vincent cares. St. Vincent gives shits.

Walking into the Newport Music Hall in Columbus, I didn’t know what to expect. I knew what I was about to see was going to be FREAKING AWESOME, but the long road trip had addled my brain and for some reason, I just really wanted a milkshake. So while I went outside and did my meditation exercises to try to calm down, which involve me imagining that my whole body is slowly melting into butter or that I am on a nice beach somewhere (note: this didn’t actually happen), I tried to remind myself of what I was about to witness– a true goddess by the name of Annie Clark. I shuffled back inside and the show shortly began.

First off, let me say: WHOA. WHOA.  SV, you got chops. Starting off with the unmistakable synth intro of “Marrow,” a track from the 2009 album Actor, the show commenced in a fit of bursts and stomps in the form of the song’s scattershot chorus of “H-E-L-P! Help me! Help me!” From there, St. Vincent moved onto the head-banging standout “Cheerleader.” It was only roughly six minutes into the show and already Ms. Clark had the audience in the palm of her stand. Standing up on stage, her curly halo backlight by a cool glow of white light, St. Vincent was the gospel, and the audience, piously staring back up at her, enraptured.
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