Report: Of Montreal Live in Boston

Psychedelic theater rains down on the Paradise Rock Club on Jan. 27.

By Wyndham Lewis

The toughest thing about reviewing an Of Montreal performance is not describing the psychedelic pop nugget-ry they mine, or the theatricality they have consistently built on during the past decade, and it certainly isn't counting the articles of clothing frontman Kevin Barnes is wearing by the encore (one; x-small); the most difficult part of telling you what went down at the Paradise Rock Club in Boston on Thursday night is the spelling the goddamn song titles.

The band kicked off the action with the straightforwardly named Suffer for Fashion, a song that, when released in 2007, signaled completion of the bands evolution into treble-y synth/guitar rock.  Coupled with Barnes high whine and penchant for vocal effects, the thin sound and personal songwriting earned high praise and a legion of fans, along with an army of detractors.  On this night, the opening number perfectly illustrated how the bands constant touring has forged a supremely confident front-man backed by a band that has realized much fuller, and heavier live sound. 

It has been interesting to watch the progression of this band that used to feel a bit contrived, like a boys and girls playing rock star in the bedroom, but now feels like it has genuine personality and charisma.  What used to seem like weird for weird's sake, or an attempt to upset or shock their high school tormentors now seems like a well harnessed vision with the musical chops to match.

As a performer and writer, Barnes continues to up the sexual ante on stage and record.  For a long time, he seemed to be held up in a sort of visual purgatory, having neither the purposefully grotesque physicality of Arthur Kane or Tim Harrington (in tutu) nor the raw sexuality/beauty of Prince or Bowie.  Historically, he looked like the component parts of a guy wearing make-up and some woman's clothing.  This time was different.  He has really developed into the cocksure leader that embodies the whole package and commands (not asks for) the audience's attention.

Barnes donned a lime green wrap cardigan, matching head-band, white tank-top, gold medallion and a Bloomingdale counter's worth of eye make-up, but for his beard, he would have looked at home dropping his kids off at Country Day with the neighborhood moms. 

Early in the set, there were no breaks between songs, and as they crested into Forecast Fascist Future the stage-to-ceiling split screen showed song-specific animation and images shot in real time from a handheld camera.   Much of the screen time was dedicated to images that literally illustrated lyrics, including fox heads with rotating crab-claws. It all played out like a trippy revue.  

Given the theatrical elements, it is safe to call Of Montreal equal parts band and troupe.  The band is relatively conventional - bass, drums, keys, guitars - but there are multiple people pulling double and triple duty as techs/dancers/characters.  It is hard to tell who is doing what, but it is obviously not for the audience to know how Of Montreal's 'sausage' is made. 

The young, enthusiastic crowd was, at times, rapt by dueling Medusas, pigs and tigers in cream colored suits, carrying cock-fighters in black body stockings and bejeweled fencing masks. Making for colorful theater as the screen pumped out more Fat Albert meets Uncle Albert style images.

The music and stage show were neither at war, nor in lock-step.  But, at no point do the absurdities on stage detract from the extremely well crafted, well delivered songs.  An Eluardian Instance, Spike the Senses and And I've Seen a Bloody Shadow groove strongly.  Helmsgate is Like a Promethian Curse is reworked into a more muscular, pulsating song that turns the plea for help from the record into a conquered demon live.   A Sentence of Sorts in Kongsvinger took the titillated crowd from head nodding to full on dance party.

Barnes' lime green wrap served as a green screen as well when visual effects were projected onto it on the large screen.  Like many of his props, it too is eventually shed as he made his transition from semi-androgynous tease to full on Prince Jr. mode with St. Exquisite's Confession and For Our Elegant Castle during which he delivers the playfully coy-boy chorus 'I like it both ways.'

The encore was the cherry on top.  From the introductory bass line of the Jackson 5 cover I Want You Back the crowd was shaking serious ass and its deferential treatment allowed the exuberance of the song to speak for itself.  The crowd left happy and fully entertained.

James Husband (aka Of Montreal drummer Jamie Huggins) opened the evening with a solid set culled from his recent solo record A Parallax I.  Husband, who resembles a young Eddie Money, has sat behind Kevin Barnes for more than half a decade now and they obviously share (with the entire Elephant 6 collective) a love of sixties pop.

On songs like While the Boys Went Down Under and Elephant Alibi, Husband tones down the production flourishes and exotic instrumentation that sometimes confuse a perfectly good melody from some of his E6 brethren (Of Montreal, Great Lakes, Elf power, etc...).  His recent covers EP contains multiple Guided by Voices tunes and that along with Love's Forever Changes is where his musical style seems rooted.  Find a great riff, A Grave in the Gravel, don't fuck it up, and move on to the next.

Husband benefited from an unusually full house for an opener due to a freezing cold night and the headliners' devoted college-age fan base.  He was well received, but in retrospect, his limitations as a singer and showman were brought into sharp contrast by evening's main attraction. 

To his credit, the band (nearly half of Of Montreal) was tight and enjoyable.  But they would have been well served to begin as upbeat and engaged as they ended.  The early part of the set was marked by too much inter-band discussion and not enough playing to the audience.  Kevin Barnes saw the back of Jamie for a change as he guested on drums mid-set.  That broke the monotony and early introspection, seemingly waking the band up to finish strongly.  

[Photo credit: Leó Stefánsson]