Posted by On June 23rd, 2013 I once again took advantage of the fabulous programming of the Ottawa Jazz Festival and spent the evening soaking up some truly excellent live music (and more than a little bit of rain) at the small, pretty, and quite perfect Confederation Park.
Firstly, the evening boasted a set starring the only person anyone can name from The Staple Singers, the wonderful Mavis Staples*, a seasoned jazz/blues/R&B singer who is nothing short of legendary. As a matter of fact, did I just say “seasoned”??!? The lady is in both the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame and the Blues Hall of Fame, so I’d say she was more than just “seasoned”. Certainly she was a great artist to have playing at the festival and she would have easily been the focus of this written missive if it were not for the mainstage headliner(s) on this night, an act that (at least in my vibrating mind) quickly outdistanced the astounding Ms. Staples: David Byrne featuring St. Vincent.
I’m guessing that you, like me, know David Byrne from his work fronting his groundbreaking group The Talking Heads, a group that stands atop the admittedly small pile of still-respected ’70’s and ’80’s New Wave/pop bands – okay, tied with DEVO but certainly ahead of Blondie – and (again, like me) you might even know him further for his super-quirky and ever-earnest solo career, releasing semi-regular albums that are varied and vital enough to have elevated him even further into the upper echelon of admired musicians across the musical board. And if you are like me in those regards it wouldn’t surprise me to discover that you also were at least slightly aware (as I am) of David Byrne’s recent foray into scoring and choreographing large marching bands. The dude’s respect has truly gone pan-genre; almost to the point of being Bowie-esque.
But if you were at all like me, you would never have heard of this St. Vincent character. Well, allow me to change you:
St. Vincent (aka Annie Clark) is a very talented guitar maestro who packs a wallop of style behind her endlessly entertaining and completely unique angular guitar style, using robotic baby-steps to maneuver her skinny, leather-clad, huge-haired self around the stage whilst dishing out super-interesting modal riffs like she was wielding a musical machine gun. In short: St. Vincent has a whole quirk of her own, and it mixes with David Byrne’s quirk quite perfectly.
No wonder he lifted her from obscurity and made her an instant equal, recording a duo album and mounting at least a couple of tours with the pretty powerhouse.
With regards to this concert, all I have to tell you is that the pending rain somehow held off until the very first notes of The Talking Heads’ Burning Down the House and then the skies just let go. I mean it came down hard and fast – like buckets of rain – and the crowd surged, virtually rushing the stage in delight. I don’t know how Mr. Byrne and Ms. Vincent at al did it; the crowd could have easily used the rain as reason to retreat but we didn’t. The band somehow grabbed our collecting souls and pulled us forward. We were all on our feet, dancing ankle deep in the rain and giddy as children running through a gushing fire hydrant. And all the while David Byrne stood at his microphone twitching and dancing and theatre-talking the lyrics while St. Vincent scuttled heel-toe, heel-toe around the stage in her frantic dancing loafers, dishing out the requisite staccato rhythm.
Of course there was a lot more music than just that but I guarantee if you ask anyone that was there about this show the first thing that will jump to their mind will be dancing in the rain during Burning Down the House, guaranteed. It was epic.
As is the Ottawa Jazz Festival in general. Good work everybody.
*The others are/were Cleotha, Pervis, Roebuck, and sometimes Yvonne.
Todd Man Out 