A few days ago one of my students asked me if I ever take hallucinogenic drugs (apparently she occasionally partakes of a drug similar to shrooms while cavorting with a Scottish shaman in Peru). Thanks to the Chairlift show this evening at the grand old Webster Hall I need not wonder what I’m missing with scantily dressed, jungle dwelling white dudes encouraging the consumption of fungi with psychoactive compounds. The performances themselves induced plenty of sensory stimulation including strange light phenomena, eerie and wondrous sounds, and perhaps even a heightened feeling of emotional and spiritual well-being.
The show began with Ice Choir who evoked mid-80s British electronic bubble gum pop reminiscent of bands like the Thompson Twins, Icicle Works and Kajagoogoo. The band is composed of a synth player (occasionally strumming a bass guitar), keyboardist, drummer rapping out electronic beats on an entirely stand-up kit, and the singer who played guitar. I loved their retro 80s vibe and, while their tunes came across flavorless and unfinished, these guys nicely captured the look (the drummer appeared as if he had stepped out of a Flock of Seagulls video) and sound of the period.
Second on the bill was the fascinating Laurel Halo. I approached this part of the show with a great deal of trepidation since I had checked out this artist on Youtube a few hours prior to the show and was not impressed. Laurel Halo is not a band per say, but rather the efforts of one young woman from Brooklyn formerly known as Ina Cube. The performance consisted of her standing above a table filled with various electronic gizmos (analog and digital synths, keys, and equipment providing samples and drum loops) as she swooned to and fro while producing synthesized sounds, samples, beats, and occasional vocal accompaniment.
I figured her set would be of the “experimental” ilk – usually secret code for pretentious and boring – and was resolved to hang out by the bar until the headliner began. Happily, I found the music and samples the young Miss Halo employed proved much more intoxicating than sitting next to someone drinking a gin and tonic and won over my attention for her entire performance. The set was one continuous piece occasionally supplemented by her singing – which functioned more as an additional element of the wall of sound she established than a featured aspect of the music. I think what I dug most was how the performance resembled an electronic show from acts hanging around the 90s and 80s, such as UFO, Boards of Canada, Jean Michel Jarre, and Poland-era Tangerine Dream, producing sounds trippier than a shaman with a fistful of mushrooms.
This vid provides a nice introduction to Laurel Halo.
I enjoy Chairlift’s music for the same reason I love Roxy Music – both understand the importance of attention to details and they manage to effectively accentuate that sensitivity live. The band’s core members are singer Caroline Polachek and multi-instrumentalist Patrick Wimberly, but on tour they utilize a tight little band consisting of synths and keys, drums, guitar, and bass (Wemberly plays bass during the set) completely reinterpreting their sublime synth pop into an awesome live performance (yet another successful translation of electronic endeavors into an intriguing live show – with musical instruments!). Even better, Polachek drifts around the stage armed with castanets like a ballroom dancer. This woman is smoother than silk – she systematically flutters, twirls, and whirls around the stage and these movements are perfectly suited and timed to the rhythm of the music.
Chairlift stuck mostly to the tunes from their new album Forever (inducing enormous pleasure, if not hallucinations, from me as I passionately love the new disk). Polacheck and Wemberly thrive on the brief but captivating moments of percussion or riff production that is interesting, but fleeting. Polachek completely understands how important those moments are in the progression of the songs, and does all she can to accentuate them with her physical performance – a nod, a head gesture, even a shriek fleshes those moments out, exposes them for the important elements they are. Her skill at matching the mood of the band’s musical efforts through her vocals and bodily movements infuses even their slowest ballady moments with intensity.
At one point, after the band played “Frigid Spring”, Polacheck remarked “you are one of the few audiences that actually gets that song.” Whether or not we actually “got it,” I think the getting it requires her audience to maintain the sort of sensitivity to those musical moments of detail that Chairlift holds so dear. Moments that might induce the sort of spiritual clarity privileged by a Scottish shaman.
Several people took some nice video footage of the show and put it on Youtube – here is one of the better quality clips of “I Belong in Your Arms”