For the chauvinists among you still lurking in the conviction that women don’t have what it takes to rock, I propose a challenge: witness one (1) performance of Annie Clark, a.k.a. St. Vincent. If afterwards you are not wholeheartedly convinced that anatomy and ability to friggin’ KILL it live are by no means mutually exclusive, then chances are blood doesn’t pump through your veins.
Annie Clark is the exemplar of one who follows his/her voice - literally in this case. Her melodies were as flawless live as on album, and arguably even more emotion-laden. There is something to be said of the enchantment that springs from someone who performs with such comfort in eccentricity - from her guitar technique to accompanying hand gestures to her segues (a story of a taxidermy encounter on the road straight into a solo cover of “Dig a Pony”), Ms. Clark has every mark of uniqueness.
Accompanied by a touring band comprised of a fiddle player, a bassist/keyboardist, and a drummer (none of whom missed a beat - this was the end of their tour, and it showed), St. Vincent treated a packed house of adoring fans to one hell of a rock show. Chaotic guitar spasms to delicate ballads, bells to stomp boxes, there was a little something for everyone. There’s no telling what’s in store next for this talented young muse, but one thing is for sure - if she continues to create, the world will be a little more inspired everyday.
--Bill Braun
Photo: Anna Schindelar
