- Written by Regan Harvey -
Saturday evening fans at Boston Calling gathered in anticipation at the Green Stage for what was sure to be a surreal performance. And they were not disappointed. St. Vincent’s band took their places onstage and the crowd realized the male members were wearing masks making them appear faceless in addition to sporting blonde bowl cuts and plain jumpsuits. St. Vincent arrived clad in a neon orange bodysuit with matching thigh high boots and evening gloves. This is a stark contrast to her featureless band. Her look perfectly encapsulated the vibe of her most recent album, MASSEDUCTION, unsettling yet sexy.
Saturday evening was not the first time St. Vincent made an appearance at the festival this year.
Earlier that day the artist scored a short at the feminist film festival curated by Natalie Portman. The music was ambient and eerie, ranging from gentle harp to blaring distortions of electric guitars. St. Vincent’s main set was more recognizable, but just as thrilling.
St. Vincent dazzled the crowd with her spectacular voice, hitting impressive octaves, and her prowess at the guitar, falling to her knees and shredding during solos. Between every song, a faceless man in a black trench coat handed her a new guitar (that St. Vincent designed) of various neon colors- blue, pink, orange, yellow, and so on. This intriguing act was paired with mesmerizing visuals of St. Vincent in bizarre situations such as being punched in the face and on the telephone with a mysterious blue liquid pouring from her mouth.
St. Vincent showcased her Boston knowledge
by thanking various neighborhoods individually including Roxbury and Jamaica Plain. The musician continued by saying, “I know, I used to be one of you too,” referring to her years at Berklee College of Music. Before beginning her heartfelt serenade, “New York,” St. Vincent dedicated a special verse to the city,
“Boston isn’t Boston without you, love. So far in a few blocks to Boylston, and if I called you from the Middle East venue, we’re the only motherf-ers in the city who can handle me.”
As St. Vincent finished her set on “Slow Disco,” the humidity of the day had broken and a storm was brewing in the air. The melancholy song came to a close and cheers broke out from the audience. St. Vincent had given attendees of Boston Calling a performance in the truest sense of the word.