Jónsi, 19 Oct. 2010

THUMP.

Flash!

THUMP.

Flash!

With every beat of the kick drum, a burst of light broke from a far corner of the stage. It was like someone was trying to break through a hidden doorway into the fantastical world Jónsi created.

Throughout the performance, it felt like we were witnessing magic.

A barren forest transformed into a page from an old illustrated encyclopedia, and as it burned away a swarm of butterflies emerged. Rain dripped down windowpanes, and the water level rose into a flood just on the other side of the glass.

There was no doubt that Jónsi was the ruler of this universe because he commanded everything with the sound of his voice. Lights would flash with each crescendo, and fireflies would dance gracefully to the harmonies.

The audience was also caught in his spell.

Several audience members held their hands up in the air as if they just needed to reach out to him, to feel that little bit closer. They weren’t waving or pumping their fists; they just stood with hands outstretched. Some pressed their palms together, as if in prayer.

For the encore, Jónsi briefly left the stage and he emerged donning a feathered headdress. Clouds began to gather overhead. A burst of lightning. The boom of thunder. He was summoning a storm with his music in some kind of rain dance.

Soon the storm filled the room, the darkening clouds swirled about in the projected sky, and the thunder and lightning came crashing in waves. The storm grew to overwhelming proportions, and even Jónsi's angelic voice blended into the cacophony.

But just as the storm was summoned, it departed again with the calming of the music. Rays of sunshine burned through the clouds and it was peaceful. All that was missing was the smell of fresh rain.

***
Sadly, my camera has recently been out of commission and the one I'm borrowing was too large to try to sneak in without a photo pass. Photos can be found on Flickr with a search or through the Last.fm event tag. However, please note that these photos cannot possibly do justice for the event.

Panda Bear, 9 Sept. 2010

At The Fox Theater in Oakland

It reminded me of a pretentious art-school student’s experiment in sending subliminal messages through film – in a good way.

Distorted images washed in neon colors flashed across a screen, as Panda Bear stood hunched over his sparse equipment in the center of the stage.

“It’s kind of creepy,” a young woman behind me said.

The audience quickly fell into a trance, and the music and projections never ceased for the hour-long set.

Panda Bear played some familiar tracks from previous albums as well as newer material that will appear on his upcoming album, Tomboy, which currently has no set release date. He even treated the audience with reworked versions of Animal Collective songs from their latest release, Merriweather Post Pavilion.

The lyrics sounded familiar, but the songs were different enough to make the audience question if what they were hearing was new or old.

Lovers kissing and embracing flickered across the screen as he sang out, “I really want to do just what my body wants to do.”

A nearby couple took that as a suggestion.

The songs segued seamlessly from droning tunes to bass-heavy beats that rivaled any club anthem. Audience members danced and bobbed about until the rhythm gave way to a reverberating hum once again.

When the music stopped, it was like being snapped out of a dream. One blink and the incomprehensible images in front of my eyes were gone. The stage was empty. Back to reality.