We didn’t have a catfight… TVD was a bit overzealous in our coverage of the Lykke Li and Grimes show at 9:30 Club. We’re overachievers?
So Amanda Pittman and I joined forces while Olivia Ung (wo)manned the digicam. We all loved Grimes so much that we decided that she deserved her own review, and then it was time for the Seductress Lykke Li herself.
Canadian singer/producer Claire Boucher, known better by her stage name Grimes, opened for Lykke Li Sunday night. Her particular brand of synth-pop can best be compared to Bat for Lashes and La Roux. Boucher creates all her music with the help of two keyboards and expert use of Garage Band. What started out as a project in her bedroom has launched music critics into a frenzy over the dreamy tunes.
Boucher seemed oblivious to the crowd Sunday night as she waltzed from one keyboard to the next and warbling softly into her microphones. She had almost a Chola presence with high pony tail and a “don’t mess, I’m about to fuck shit up” stance, until she meekly admitted “this is the largest crowd I’ve ever played for, I’m a bit nervous.”
The experience of watching her is slightly uncomfortable. She’s alone and has little to say to the audience gawking over her tiny body and tiny voice. Listening to her, you can envision a full band, an earthy setting, but it’s just her up there, dominating. She doesn’t have fancy props or lighting, just fierce presence.
As “Vanessa” from her album Halfaxa plays, Claire’s haunting baby doll vocals take on a striking similarity to that of minimalist goth temptress Alison Shaw of the Cranes. Soon we’re floating on the frost of Claire’s voice as “Devon” breezes over the crowd. One chillwave slow jam cools the audience until pulsating dark beats reminiscent of The Knife pull them back from the ice escape right where she wants them, transfixed and feeling it.
Grimes only has a handful of songs, but each has an ethereal quality that is capable of taking you to her world with depth and range that shows an unbridled creativity. Her vocals are powerful and songs absolutely sexual, the Cranes on ecstasy, and at times as danceable as Cut Copy.
