M83 at Venue

Saturday, November 12

Doors open at 7pm. It's an early show, supposed to be over by 10, so expedience is of the utmost. It's 7:28 and everyone is still outside. It's cold enough that my extremities have slipped uncomfortably into that purgatory of numbness. Things are behind schedule, I'm cold and pissed off- it could be going better. It's times like this that I sometimes ask myself how much I really want to be going to what ever show it is I'm in line for. Not this time, M83 was playing and I wasn't going anywhere. No level of frostbite, hypothermia, or barrage of scalpers and homeless people was going to keep me away from my most anticipated show of the season. The same unfortunately can't be said for the 50 plus people lined up hoping to get a ticket at the door. Not likely as they were only selling 20; it would seem the show, part of their tour promoting the recently released double LP, Hurry Up, We're Dreaming, had more or less sold out some time ago. Those people missed out on one of the best shows I've ever been to.

Special and innovative efforts seem to have been afforded to setting the mood as the festivities initiated. One of Dreaming's most fascinating attributes is how it's such a transformative and other worldly experience. To successfully recreate this state of mind the crowd would have to be sufficiently divorced from reality. A certain level of sensory deprivation and disorientation would be required to accomplish such a feat. Well, that definitely happened. A phalanx of assaulting and vivid flood lights, blanketed the audience, as ferociously deep and absurdly heavy tones engulfed the room. You couldn't so much as hear the sounds as you could feel them- battered and burdened by them, deep in your core; and maybe even a little below it. You could't so much as see the lights as your retinas were scalded by them. It was intense and destabilizing, shaking you loose from an apparently tenuous grasp on reality. Perfect. As the sensory bombardment eased, a figure emerged from the chaos. Rather than any obvious member of the band, a just shy of impossibly tall figured took to the stage, cloaked in black ceremonial robes, and wearing something similar to the alien/anteater mask that was revealed with the debut of “Midnight City”. He raised his hands as if he was gesturing to a brainwashed cult. It wasn't until after the shock and awe of such a creature wore off that I noticed that the standard and mundane constructs that cluttered the back wall of the Venue stage had been draped with a starry light back drop. It was gorgeous and went a long way from orphaning me from the last cognitive vestiges of being at regular show in a regular building. I was out in space (I promise I wasn't on drugs).

The first track played was “Intro”, to no doubt no one's surprise. It's a stellar track that perfectly encapsulates the tone and feeling of the new album. The pre-recorded prelude of the little girl spouting out weird shit remained intact and the rapidly pulsating sample that opens it up is easy enough to replicate so it sounded fairly similar to it's album counter part- just stunningly more intense, if that's even possible. Zola Jesus, unsurprisingly wasn't there for the live show, so M83 regular Morgan Kirby handled the vocals. She was brilliant- her voice, even with the abundance of reverb- was deep and loud enough to cut through it all, yet maintained a haunting and alluringly emotive presence. She sounds surprisingly different live, versus songs like “You Appearing” and “Skin of the Night”. She sings with more bravado, more confidence. Deviating from the endearing timidness that indie pop vocals are known for, she was downright evangelical. For those of us who have studied the complexities and mysteries of Dreaming, one may have assumed “Midnight City” would have been the next track the played. Not the case, “Teen Angst”, a comparative oldie was next up. It's not entirely surprising they would hold off for a bit on “Midnight City”; as the song that has come to define the growing awareness of M83, they surely wanted to save it towards the end.

Before “Midnight City” came a long, “Kim and Jessie”, from the album Saturdays = Youth, was probably the best candidate to initiate the unfamiliar with the group. It's a pop song, it's beautifully arranged, steadfastly emotive, has an energizing sax crescendo; it's always been a favourite of mine. Despite the zeal and enthusiasm of the vocals and the instrumentation in “Kim and Jessie”, it is something of a delicate track. Not the case when preformed live, as the percussion was devastatingly ferocious. While the drums didn't drown out the softer keyboards and tones, it was a much more physical and crushing piece of work. I wonder if this was an intentional departure from the album's characteristics or merely a peculiarity of the always challenging task of sound engineering. Regardless of the new tone's origin, it was fantastic. I'm leaning towards my initial inclination as the group's rendition of “We Own The Sky” underwent a similarly blunt transformation. At first I wasn't quite sure which song they we're preforming, only being aware of a brutal assortment of keyboards, synthesizers and percussion tones. It still carried that elegance and intriguing slickness to it, it was just much more hard hitting. Imagine the thunderous cacophony of “My Tears Are Becoming a Sea” (Which they also played, and was awesome), applied to “We Own The Sky”. Once I grew more accustomed to it and Gonzales's and Kirby's voices provided something of a reference point, I really enjoyed it. Apparently nothing is sacred from their earlier work.

Before diving any further into the specifics of the set list, I'm compelled to talk to about the lighting. Holy Shit. Earlier this Year Crystal Castles set the benchmark for the incendiary and epileptic assault that a light show could subject a person too. I had no plans to even expect another act to attempt such a startling and impactful feat. M83 came goddamn close. The ocean of starlights that formed the back drop were gorgeously transcendent, and they changed colours. A combination of floodlights, strobes and the usual array of concert lights made for a real blitzkrieg of stimulus. It wasn't just the abundance and combination of these, but the sheer vividness and and depth of the colours, the constantly shifting contrasts they made- it was a spectacle that did a wonderful job of visually representing the intensity, scale, and epic nature of M83's music. It wasn't at all uncommon for band members to be literally drowned out by light to the point of being invisible. I haven't even mentioned the physical pillars of light randomly dressing the stage. Like the opposite and slightly diminutive version of Radiohead's standard setting chandelier display, these gorgeous stalagmites had constantly modulating patterns and colours. My favourite- rainbows. Even the speakers were lined with neon florescent tape, just to make them look that much cooler. Easily one of the most beautiful shows I've ever been to.

“Steve McQueen” and “Year One, One UFO” are other album highlights, so I was glad to see them played and so faithfully recreated. Both tracks get pretty hyper and intense and were great showcases for the interplay and charisma, not to mention stamina, of Gonzales and keyboard/guitar man, and Anthony's younger bother Yann Gonzales. While he spent some songs dutifully attending to his role on the keyboards and guitar, occasionally he and Anthony would just freak out. Frantically flailing their guitars around and thrusting their legs and hips in every direction possible, sometimes in perilously close proximity to one another, was pretty thrilling. I thought the two were bound for a catastrophic collision a few times. I guess they're getting pretty good at this. It was always so spontaneous and unexpected to see young Yann break out of his shell and practically fight his way through the potency of the lights and sounds.

When they finally started playing “Midnight City”, the crowd erupted; it was clearly the song everyone was desperately waiting to hear. That pulsating synth beat that oscillates so vibrantly isn't really like anything I've heard. To hear it for the first time in a slightly different manner, even if the difference is only live versus recorded, since I first heard it was pretty astounding. While the first verse had the vocals slightly hard to register, it was promptly corrected by the crew on sound, and everything was perfect after that. As much as I loved every second of it, my attention to the first chunk of the song was slightly undermined by my trepidation towards just how the hell they were going to handle the climax. They clearly didn't have a saxophone on stage, so they wouldn't be able to properly recreate the finale. I was resigned to the fact that as great as it was to hear it, it might not be quite as good compared to it's studio equivalent. I could not have been more happy to be so wrong. No, their wasn't a live sax, although acute listeners likely picked up a sax sample they had running through the main synthesizer. Instead of the sax the song's ending was supplemented by a brilliantly conceived and implemented guitar solo from Yann. Working in tandem with a corresponding synth beat, you couldn't quite notice at first, but it was easily a minute long solo and added an innovative and brand new layer to an already deeply textural song. I wish everyone could hear the live version of “Midnight City”. Good thing I recorded it.

Much to my surprise, “Midnight City” was not the best part of the show. That honour goes to “Skin of the Night”. Every light in the vast arsenal of lights switched over to a visceral blood red. Rather than the sporadic percussion based tones that randomly pop in and out of existence, as in the studio version, the bulk of the melody was compromised of a much more robust and fleshy beat. It was obviously synth and reverb, but it sounded so organic, in it's own alien sort of way. It moved at a quicker pace and gave the song an harrowing and commanding sense of importance. Kirby was similarly rallying. Rather than singing as a deeply effected and fragile individual as on the album version, she was practically screaming, in her own regal and glamourous sort of way. It was as if she was giving marching orders. Even for M83, it was shockingly overwhelming.

M83 concluded their set, very unexpectedly with “Coleurs”. I expected something a little more solemn and emotionally charged like “Soon My Friend” or “Outro”. They took the opposite route, opting instead for aggression and escalation- full on rave. Despite the extended duration of the song, things seemed to develop very quickly. All members of the group began dancing ferociously, catalysing the audience into following suit. It's amazing how, given the right tempo, an entire herd of people can move together in perfect unison. Despite the fierceness in which everyone was moving, no one seemed to get in anyone else's way. It was peculiar to say the least. As the song progressed every light in the house seemed to switch over to what can best be described as “short circuit”. I felt like I had epilepsy for a few moments after word- which is actually pretty cool.

It was a long, cold, and bitter wait for M83, both in terms of the unforgiving weather that day, and in the larger picture. It was worth it. Often when I go to a show, particular ones I've been anticipating for a while, I'm struck with a brief moment of hesitation and concern; maybe it won't be perfect, maybe a troublesome glitch will occur, maybe some technical poltergeist will gum up the works. I wasn't worried at all going into this one. I expected something amazing and M83 over delivered. The grandeur that they were able to embed into the live versions of already epic music, the innovative departures applied to classic songs, those lights. The one disappointment of the night was the crushing weight of reality setting back in when we were thrust back into the blight of a frigid vancouver evening. Time to start counting the days until I see them again; Can't come soon enough.