The earth is composed of four different layers: The crust (the layer we live on), the mantle (the hot layer below the crust) and the outer and inner cores (the super hot layers below the mantle). Now because I’m an obnoxious English major with a penchant for obnoxious metaphors, I’m going to compare Saturday night’s Devendra/Basinski/CocoRosie/Antony to the four layers of earth. Please stick with me. I promise this won’t hurt too much.  

THE CRUST A trill-off. A warble-down. A forward-thinking/forward-singing quaver crooning competition. On the surface (yes, the crust-level), that’s what Saturday night’s Devendra/Basinski/CocoRosie/Antony show was. And in case you’re wondering, Devendra and his beautifully dynamic chirrup, and Antony and his icy hot alien blues vibrato, tied for first place. The fedora-sporting half of CocoRosie wasn’t bad, but she sounded too much like uber-harpist Joanna Newsome, who I’ll get back to in a second. To conclude, warble-style singing is big in crust culture (i.e., the underground. Damn, this analogy’s paying off already) these days and I love this fact.

THE MANTLE Dig a little deeper and Saturday night’s show contained a strong time traveling element. Devendra and his guitar-playing “brother” Noah Georjeson looked and often sounded like two wandering Andalucian minstrels hailing from the wine-in-a-deerskin days of yore. William Basinsksi’s shimmering, water-muffled compositions contained an undeniable Brian Eno influence (the perfect soundtrack for a trip back to the late ’70s/early ’80s experimental ambient scene). Philosophically and aesthetically-speaking, Antony has the whole Warhol thing going on (he has strong ties to early Downtown NYC culture) and there were fascinating moments last night when it almost seemed as if he had traveled into the future as a representative from those long lost days of Basquiat goodness. Musically, you can link Antony’s voice all the way back to the great wounded female blues singers of the early 20th Century. I know much of this time traveling business probably sounds a bit trite and easy, but remember, we’re still only at the mantle.

THE OUTER CORE This is where we talk about originality. Hot as magma-style originality. While it’s true that the above-mentioned artists wear their blues, folk, early ambient etc. etc. influences on their fabulous sleeves, they put a strikingly original spin on their music. Devendra’s lo-fi global village folk culture mash-ups are insanely creative, especially during these days of highest-tech musical production. Antony and the Johnsons sound like a band of exiled Broadway bastards creating desperate ballads and show tunes for more accepting civilizations of the future. Hell, even CocoRosie (who in my mind gave the least unique and earnest performance of the evening) supplied a couple of inventive moments, blending opera, children’s instruments and fuzzy samples into something good, if not a bit creepy. Overall, I don’t care what anyone says, it’s a great time for music and these artists exemplify this greatness.

THE INNER CORE The last stop, my friends. The hottest and deepest stop. The core of last night’s show—the essence of last night’s show—was love. Sorry to get all soft all of a sudden, but it’s true. A good old-fashioned love connection occurred between the artists producing wild-ass sounds on stage and the drunk-on-red-wine audience member scenesters. I felt it. My girlfriend felt it. The black-rimmed glasses set (at least 50 percent of all audience members) felt it. The orgasm of this love connection took place when, toward the end of the show, everyone in the room clapped along to Antony and friends’ meditation on the elements. “Water and dust” sang Antony as we clapped out rhythms like ancient tribespeople. “Dust and water, water and dust.” Yes, last night the earth—from its inner core to its outer everything—shook with delight at this lovely little On the Boards experience.

Love,

Chris

P.S. The only performer missing last night was Joanna Newsome. Where was she? I love her.