For the fellow people who had the pleasure of seeing Laura Stevenson at Great Scott this past Sunday, I think you might agree with me that Laura Stevenson is a being of supernatural origins. It’s really the only possible explanation. In a night full of female-fronted acts, both of the openers, while putting out really solid performances, portrayed such dissonance in sounds and styles that one might think it near impossible to fill that void in between. Yet, Laura Stevenson managed to do so and more. She utterly became the metaphorical lighthouse in the proverbial dark for the people who made it through the night and she showed the way with a combination of self-deprecating wit, a bubbly attitude, and, of all things, awkwardness.
The Box Tiger started the night off with some sheer polish. The four-piece from Portland, ME/Toronto, ON, who played at Boston Calling this past May, definitely showed off a bit with their bright “pop-punk meets indie rock” sound that got the audience bobbing along. Ending their short set with “Taller Than Trees”, vocalist/guitarist Sonia Sturino evoked comparison in my mind to Karen O in that her voice was all over the place but was specifically designed to pull at the heartstrings in those sharp rises and falls.
Next up was local folk band Destry. This is where the night got a little weird for me. Where The Box Tiger was fun and cheery, Destry was steady and sincere. Putting out a classic singer-songwriter/folk vibe, it was deliberate and focused, fitting the mood of slow dancing music, which coincidentally started happening in the crowd. Go figure. While expertly striking chords with the emotions of the room, Destry was something that felt so far out of left field when compared to what preceded them that someone pretty much had to throw it all the way over the wall into the stadium.
After Destry finished up, I was certain that Laura Stevenson was finished before she could even get on stage. How is it possible to follow these two acts? How, I ask you? It seemed inconceivable in my head that was busy recovering from how different the previous two bands were. But, apparently, nobody told me this is Laura fucking Stevenson. Jokingly asking if she could get a hell yeah from the crowd before jumping into “Triangle” with her backing band, The Cans, I was immediately hooked from the start. Taking some time in between songs to say that every time she comes to Boston, she falls prey to a self-fulfilling prophecy of acting weird on stage, Laura managed to grasp that awkward, self-conscious yet charming stage presence and channel it like a pro.
The wealth of material that Laura Stevenson showed off during her set was impressive in of itself, blending material ranging all the way from her debut album to a future upcoming album that she teased but admitted needing a lot of work. Laura Stevenson and The Cans also managed to bridge that impossible gap between the two openers by playing a sharp and upbeat folk sound that was accentuated by Laura’s soulfully siren-esque vocals. Laura shined particularly well when the band took a break near the bathroom area of Great Scott while she played alone on stage. Asking her band to stay but them telling her it would be too awkward, Laura proceeded to serenade the crowd with “The Move”, followed by “Nervous Rex” after which signaled the return of The Cans to finish out rest of the set. Thanking the sound guy for being the nicest sound guy she’s ever worked with but completely forgetting his name, Laura Stevenson and the Cans finished relatively early with “Telluride”, making sure that everybody could make it back home on the T feeling happy and maybe even a little more in love with the adorable awkwardfest that is Laura Stevenson.
