St. Vincent at the Roundhouse

St. Vincent

Coves

Roundhouse, 25 October 2014

Isn't it funny the difference a few years can make? Back in 2009 I saw Annie Clark aka St. Vincent live for the first time and it was just her and her guitar making fantastic sounds using nothing other than a delay pedal and her voice. Five years on, with five albums and a tour with David Byrne now under her belt, Clark has now progressed from a beguiling indie chanteuse to bonafide rock star who can dazzle huge crowds at major festivals.

I mention the David Byrne tour in particular because I definitely feel it was the turning point here. Before that her solo shows were more typical rock show fare and even Annie herself was more dressed down, with less make-up and her natural curly brown hair. During the Byrne experience she became a platinum blonde, started doing choreographed dance moves during parts of the shows and rehearsed speeches rather than the rambling and funny anecdotes she used to tell, oh and signed to a major record label to boot. Basically, Annie's gigs are now theatrical productions and St.Vincent is now almost like a persona she puts on for these shows. Is it better? I'm torn to whether it really is or not but there's no doubt it's utterly entertaining.

Clark arrives on stage in a glittery, sequined turquoise and red dress, something you can imagine on a fashion catwalk or a Hollywood red carpet. She also has a new violet tint in her white hair almost making her look like an icy 50-something New York high society heiress (or something like that). Of course you wouldn't catch some haughty heiress strapping on an electric guitar and shredding away on it, which is what Annie does, after a few robotic dance moves (in sync with awesome keyboardist/guitarist Toko Yasuda) that start the show. Funnily enough the St. Vincent persona seems like a wide-eyed android or alien trying to make sense of the world, in fact during the opening number Rattlesnake she even grabs one of the many photographers' cameras and peers through it for a moment like it's a strange new toy.

Digital Witness is the track from the new album that sounds most like the work she did with David Byrne and live it's as fun as the show they did together at this very venue a year ago. Later, during I Prefer Your Love, she abandons her guitar to deliver the pleading ballad draped over the white platform at the centre of the stage and then climbs the stairs to perform Prince Johnny on top, like some kind of guitar goddess looking down upon her subjects from up high. She finishes the song though with some incredible soloing before casting off her guitar and then crawling dramatically down the steps to a synthy soundtrack and cinematic flashing lights.

Most of the gig, not surprisingly, is made up of tracks from her most recent self-titled album but there's also a quartet of songs from the previous record, Strange Mercy and a few from Actor as well as a surprise outing for Krokodil, the heavy distorted rocker released only as a single for Record Store Day a couple of years back. Apparently she doesn't play it very often but tonight it's hard to know why because it sounds absolutely fantastic.

Between the songs there's also little monologues about how she's just like us, her fellow freaks and outsiders in the audience, which eventually culminates with her asking if we remember making wings out of Pizza Hut boxes as kids and trying to fly by jumping off our beds (I kinda wish that had happened!) and then, more bizarrely, how we all tried to light a fire with a magnifying glass and instead burned down the whole neighbourhood (yes, of course that happened to us all!). It's all said in a sort of possessed monotone voice that kind of suits her alien look.

Two of the nicest moments of the night come in the encore. First there's a completely solo version of Strange Mercy, which brings us full circle to the Annie I used to know, alone with her guitar playing beautifully intricate, shimmering guitar parts that remind me of Jeff Buckley. Then there's the only offering from her debut album Marry Me as she ends the whole show with a electrifying Your Lips Are Red which sees her climbing onto a security guard's shoulders in order to let the audience play her feed-backing guitar. When she reaches my end of the stage she grabs my hand and jumps onto the barrier and raises her hands into the air before falling backwards into the safe arms of the security crew. It's a thrilling, starry, memorable end to a great show and a suitable exit for St. Vincent, the newly anointed rock star.

Supporting tonight is a female-fronted indie rock band from Warwickshire called Coves. The singer Beck Wood looks a little like an indie Stevie Nicks with an over-sized bat-wing black satin shirt, Doc Marten boots and long blonde, heavily fringed hair. They don't sound like Nicks though, instead they remind me of the little-remembered 4AD band Scheer, with heavy, distorted guitars and girly vocals. It all sounded pretty good, particularly on final song No Ladder which saw Wood harmonising with guitarist John Ridgard while singing through a megaphone. Definitely one to watch out for.