ALT-J (PARADISE 3/3)

alt-j

I won’t lie: I was apprehensive about seeing alt-J on the second night of their Boston weekend. If a band is doing a two-night run at the same venue, I tend to believe the first night will rock–the band is fresh, the crowd is better. I hadn’t read any reviews on their previous shows, so I was in the dark about their potential performance, but I had spent many a day dancing to their album alone in my room and had looked up the lyrics to some of their (more mumbled) songs. Well, alt-J might not be the loudest band, they might not have the crazy electronic equipment that is all the rage these days, or tell stories about their childhood on stage, but the winners of the 2012 British Mercury Prize came in quietly, left in a similar fashion, put on a fantastic show, and left me wanting more.

The diverse crowd was already buzzing with anticipation as early as eight o’clock although alt-J wouldn’t be going on till 9:30. The night kicked off with Hundred Waters, an indie band hailing from Florida, and also the first indie band to sign with Skrillex’s label. The lead singer, Nicole Miglis, and her band consisting of two guitarists, a backup singer, and a drummer, took their places and immediately filled Paradise with an eerie folk set filled with interesting electronic interludes and high-pitched swelling notes. I won’t ever get used to the idea of someone head banging over a laptop–but I’m thinking I might have to with the direction of music these days. Although distracted by the head banging, it was an intriguing set akin to Dirty Projectors’ eclectic folk sound with random beats. The highlight was “Wonderboom,” which started slow and heavy and ended with a feeling reminiscent of an African song. Amidst the fast drum beats and hypnotic repetition, Nicole finally broke into a trance-like smile.

After the quick opening set, it was time for alt-J. The previously cluttered stage was cleared except for a keyboard station and a drum set for Thom Green, in addition to three microphones set up for Joe Newman (lead singer), Gus Unger-Hamilton (keyboards), and Gwil Sainsbury (guitarist). Walking serenely onto the stage despite the roar of the screaming fans, the band opened with the aptly named “Intro.” Newman calmly stood at the mic for most songs, letting his emotion-fueled vocals and guitar speak for him. Once in awhile he would break his stoic character and crack a smile at the screaming audience who reached out their hands for him over and over again.

The transitions between songs were brief and effortless.The crowd sang along to “Tessellate,” whooping with joy over the line “Triangles are my favorite shape,” and slowly grooving their way with the band as they performed “Something Good.” Every song was calm, collected, and beautifully harmonized–sounding similar, if only a little bit more mumbled then to their debut album, An Awesome Wave. Disappointment only came with the end of their set, which came just 45 minutes after they had begun. Returning quickly to their adoring fans for an encore, Newman and Unger-Hamilton started “Hand-Made” in the darkness, the eerie melody and perfect harmonies dappling hypnotically over the venue. As an electronic voice asked “Are you sitting comfortably?” Newman again graced us with a quick smirky smile, before refocusing his gaze back to his guitar. They closed with “Taro” with everyone dancing to the Bollywood-esque beats and joyfully coming together to shout “Hey Taro!”

I left the concert feeling satisfied yet craving so much more. As a result, I haven’t stopped listening to the album, and though I’ve listened to every song hundreds of times, I’m continuing to tap into new beats and intricate melodies with every listen. I’m eagerly awaiting their next studio effort. alt-J will return to Boston in September at the Bank of America Pavilion, and while I’ll probably go see the show in respect and admiration for their interpretive genius, it’ll definitely be interesting to see if they continue their simple stage presence, or if they’ll gather the energy for something more.

Cassandra Chernin