It ended with a half naked man in a wig and a cape in the balcony, viagra sale and a microphone cable unable to go any farther. Clothes or not, King Khan and The Shrines’ set at The Sinclair Tuesday night was weird in a delightful way.
But let’s go back to the start: King Khan, the Montreal-by-way-of-Germany-based singer, emerged to a fervent Sinclair crowd in slightly more clothes: a glittery, sparkly purple top with white pants. If that description evokes the flamboyant dress of soul singers, the sounds certainly matched it.
The Shrines were dressed a bit more conservatively, but one wonders why the brass section donned capes, while the rest of the group were left out. Is there some sort of hierarchical scheme at play that people are supposed to be clued in on?
Playing songs from their 2013 record, Idle no More, King Khan and The Shrines provided an eccentric blend of soul and punk. One standout song of the night from the record was “Luckiest Man,” which brought the right kind of energy to the crowd that found itself moshing. King Khan channeled soul singers by punctuating verses with an emphatic “Owww!”
The backing band of eight people was about as energetic as one could expect. The keyboardist jumped into the crowd at one point, much to the dismay of the stage crew.
Khan played up his role as a unifier, dedicating “I Wanna Be A Girl” to the LGBTQ community. He dedicated a slow song to “all the fingerbangers out there.” He directed the crowd to get on its knees to scream at the top of their lungs at people who make them feel bad. During the encore, he stopped singing to tell moshers who had taken someone to the ground to “chill the fuck out.” He even decried the sacred sport of Montreal (and Boston) and suggested that hockey players should drop their sticks and suck each others’ dicks. If those aren’t the words of an everyman, I don’t know what is.
By the time King Khan was up in the balcony during the encore, sans pants and shirt, there’s no doubt he converted a few skeptics.
New Hampshire’s The Connection were about as safe of an opening act as one can find; the only risky portion of the band’s set was when singer Brad Marino fell off the stage trying to get into the sparse crowd to invite people to sing along.
Montreal’s Red Mass played a blistering combination of punk and synths. Roy Vucino and his touring group of three — one of the band members may have been missing because he or she got arrested, he said. Still, the group was able to bring it.