I am a punctual man; if nothing else, all my friends could agree on that. This is why I was radiating frustration and probably sweat by the time I made it to Berbati’s Pan to see Brooklyn synth-pop darlings Au Revoir Simone. Due to a combination of bus re-routes, plus-one flakiness and several blocks of jogging, I was a few minutes past the 8 pm showtime. Fortunately (or not), I was to find out later that Berbati’s is notorious for never actually starting a show on time.
The first opener, Leaving the Scene, stepped on stage after I had cooled my heels for about 20 minutes and three beers. Portland natives, I had not heard of them prior to the show, but the ’90s-inflected rock this five piece presented was certainly familiar. Frontwoman Rayn McMahon is blessed with a powerful voice, but her stage presence reminded me of a self-consciously not-shy teenager. Not that it was awful, but it smacked terribly of high school theater. Perhaps the band will grow out of it, but they’ll have to hand their sound back to Taking Back Sunday first.
The venue was still largely empty by the time second opener (and tour companion) Findlay Brown stepped on stage. Backed by a guitarist who looked somewhere between Devendra Banhart and Russell Brand (but who could seriously play), Brown set off a short set of early rock ‘n’ roll-stylized songs with a bit of smarm between each. The sound ranged from overtly Roy Orbison numbers to the sweet acoustic sound of songs like “Come Home,” and he managed to overcome the weight of his foundation more often than not. The man has a voice; it’s both powerful and smooth. I briefly buttonholed him between sets. Apparently he has a new album out in the autumn. Watch for it.
Periodically I had seen a slender girl with large glasses and bangs moving across Berbati’s floor and back again, this is Portland and that’s not an uncommon sight. Once the stage had been cleared and a wall of synthesizers had been set up, I realized that this girl was one of the trio of Au Revoir Simone. It took a surprisingly long time to set up for just three girls with microphones, but it was definitely worth it. On record, Erika Forster, Annie Hart and Heather D’Angelo are breathtakingly delicate and girlish; live, they’re the same, only more so. Berbati’s small size allowed the crowd to push up directly to the girls (except for the requisite barrier separating the drinking crowd from the sober fans) and they were certainly talkative. Throughout the set, the band exhorted us to sing along if we knew the words (some did) and to clap with them (almost everyone did).
The setlist was heavy with songs from new album Still Night, Still Light, which I was grateful for; it’s a remarkable album, offering melancholy and joy in equal measures. Opening with “All Or Nothing,” the tone was quickly set as the girls sang about love and loss and feelings that aren’t so easily described or transmitted, while joking and chattering between songs. Their harmonies were remarkable, so well timed that their drum programming seemed almost extraneous. From my vantage, I could mostly see Forster and was glad for that: while all three danced and pounded their keys, she was easily the most in motion and the most talkative. The one problem with synth-heavy bands is that they tend to sound much the same live as on record. Au Revoir Simone is no exception to that, but hearing them croon “Trace A Line” and “Knight of Wands” was lovely in a very literal sense of the word. Even in a town packed with females who look exactly like them (and usually play synths), they were something else.
The requisite encore required only a few minutes of clapping. The band performed “The Lucky One,” the lead track from 2007′s The Bird of Music. With its strangely affecting sentiment of “So let the sunshine let it come/ To show us that tomorrow is eventual,” it ranks as among the band’s finest. The moment the song ended, Forster bounded off the stage to thank the crowd, hugging from person to person. I slipped out quickly, being the shy boy I am, but was left with more than a little melancholy and more than a bit of a crush.
by Nathan Kamal
[Photo: Oliver Peel @Konzerttagebuch.de]
